The Ravens

by Kass Morgan

  Scarlett stared at her boyfriend. Where was this coming from? Why was he changing so much, so suddenly? An image of Vivi and Mason laughing in the cafeteria, the easy way he’d rested his hand on her shoulder, rose in her mind. They hadn’t talked at the mixer last night—Scarlett made sure of that—but there was one moment, so brief she almost wondered if she’d imagined it, where she thought she saw something pass between them across the room.

  Mason held his arms wide. “The world is bigger than PiKa. It’s bigger than Kappa. We’re bigger than both of them. I wish you could see that.”

  “I do see that.” But was he judging her for staying with her sisters? And if he wasn’t now, would he in the future? Was this the first step before he asked her to choose him over them?

  A swell of unwanted emotion washed over Scarlett, and she stood up before Mason could see the hurt in her eyes. “Don’t forget, we’re having dinner with my parents tonight,” she said, avoiding his gaze. “Unless those are the kind of plans you want to throw out the window.”

  Mason shot her a pained look. “Scarlett . . . don’t be like that. Stay.”

  “Don’t you have your sociology study group now? You should really go. You have an exam coming up,” she said.

  Mason hesitated. Scarlett knew he wanted to talk more, but she could feel a tightness in her throat and a burning behind her eyes. She refused to lose it here on the main green, where everyone could see. Ravens did not cry in public. So she summoned her magic, the burning behind her eyes replaced by a burning in her fingertips. Leave, she urged him. Go now.

  “I have to get to study group now, Scar,” Mason said suddenly, responding to her subliminal magical command. He kissed her on the cheek and turned to leave. And even though she’d been the one to issue the command, it still broke her heart to watch him walk away.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Vivi

  “Is that what you’re wearing tonight?” Vivi asked, eyeing Reagan’s hot pants as the two of them lounged in the shade of one of the dozen enormous live oaks that bordered Westerly’s main quad. She and Reagan were in the same astronomy class and tonight was their first trip to the off-campus observatory, a brand-new building funded by a wealthy Kappa alum. Vivi wasn’t sure how long the assignment would take, so she was trying to get as much reading done as possible that afternoon. Classes had just started, yet she was somehow already behind. It’d been much easier to keep up with schoolwork back when she didn’t have any friends.

  “Are you worried about me scandalizing the telescopes?” Reagan asked, rolling onto her stomach and closing her eyes, clearly not planning to use the free afternoon to catch up on reading. From what Vivi had been able to piece together, Reagan was highly intelligent but completely uninterested in academics—Ariana told her that Reagan had been kicked out of three different prestigious boarding schools. Vivi had a feeling that the Ravens must have pulled some strings to get her into Westerly despite her lackluster grades, possibly as a way to gain favor with her powerful witch mother and aunts. It was still a little mind-boggling to think of witches living all over the country—and all over the world. Women whose ancestors had used their magic to shape history . . . and who had sometimes paid the ultimate price.

  “I’m more worried about you getting bug bites on your butt cheeks,” Vivi said, more flippantly than she felt. “Apparently, the observatory is next to a big swamp.”

  “You make an excellent point, Devereaux.” Reagan rolled over, then stood up. “I guess I’ll change before dinner. See you tonight.”

  Reagan sauntered off, and Vivi opened her math textbook, but she hadn’t gotten very far before a shadow fell over the page. “Indulging in a little light reading, I see.”

  She looked up to see Mason standing over her with a warm smile. Vivi raised the book and looked at the cover quizzically. “It’s only calculus. I’d call that pretty light reading.”

  “Compared to what? Advanced neurosurgery?”

  “Compared to the nonlinear algebra class I’m auditing. Freshmen aren’t allowed to take it officially.”

  “Well, aren’t we the little overachiever?” Mason’s smile widened, revealing the dimple that made Vivi’s heart flutter.

  Pull it together, she told herself. He’s your sorority sister’s boyfriend. Don’t be a creep. “Don’t try to act all too cool for school,” Vivi said, attempting to sound playful without being flirty, though she’d be the first to admit that she was ill-equipped to make that distinction. She pointed at a paperback sticking out of his leather messenger bag, a worn copy of Love in the Time of Cholera festooned with colored Post-its. “Is that for class?”

  “For fun,” Mason said, slightly sheepishly.

  “So you’re as much of a nerd as I am.”

  “Oh, I’m a much bigger nerd, trust me. Come with me. There’s something I want to show you.” He extended his hand to help her up, but Vivi hesitated. She wanted to go with him, but she wasn’t sure how Scarlett would feel about Vivi spending one-on-one time with her boyfriend.

  “Sorry,” Mason said as he let his arm fall awkwardly to his side. “I realize you’re perfectly capable of standing up by yourself. My mother’s etiquette lessons were a little outdated.”

  “No, it’s fine,” Vivi said as she scrambled quickly to her feet. “I was just thinking about my schedule, but I have time. What did you want to show me?”

  His expression brightened. Vivi wasn’t sure she’d ever met someone whose emotions showed so clearly on his face. “It’s right over here. You’ll see in a second.”

  Mason led her across the quad and down the tree-lined path to Westerly’s most famous library, the Hewitt, which, according to the guide on the tour Vivi had taken during orientation, housed the school’s collection of rare artifacts.

  “Are we allowed inside?” Vivi asked. “My tour guide said that it was only for grad students and visiting scholars.”

  “The archives require special permission, but the museum is free and open to the public.”

  “There’s a museum on campus?”

  “Tsk-tsk.” Mason shook his head. “Either you had a delinquent tour guide or you weren’t paying attention. I’m not sure which of those scenarios breaks my heart more.”

  As they climbed the white marble stairs toward the columned façade, Vivi surveyed Mason with a smile. “If your heart breaks that easily, life is going to be hard for you.”

  He placed his hand on his chest. “You have no idea, Ms. Devereaux.”

  “How do you know my last name?”

  “You nearly assassinated me your first day on campus. I told you, I need to keep tabs on you for public-safety reasons.”

  Vivi raised an eyebrow. At least, she hoped that was what she was doing. It wasn’t a gesture she was particularly adept at, and there was a good chance she’d merely contorted her features strangely. He opened the door for her, and although Vivi was sure he did this for every woman, the courtly gesture still sent a tingle through her chest.

  “The archives are that way,” Mason said, pointing at a set of wooden double doors. Next to it was an ornate desk occupied by an imperious-looking woman with gray hair and steel-rimmed glasses. “That’s where they store most of the collection. There’s only room to display about ten percent of it in the museum, which is right over here.” He approached the desk and smiled. “How are you, Miss Irma? Do you need to see our IDs?”

  “It’s fine, Mason,” the woman said, her stern expression softening. “Go on in.”

  He led Vivi into a long, narrow room lined with display cases. “What kind of museum is this, exactly?” Vivi asked as her eyes traveled from a bejeweled tortoiseshell to an antique tobacco pipe to what appeared to be a musical instrument made from an elephant tusk.

  “I think its official name is the Hewitt Collection of Oddities and Curiosities, but basically, it’s just a hodgepodge of strange and valuable stuff people have donated over the years.”

  Vivi took a few steps toward a diorama of taxiderm
ied mice dressed up for a tea party. “I can’t believe anyone would want to part with this.”

  “There’s some good stuff in here, trust me. Come on—I’ll show you my favorite piece.” He led her quickly down the center aisle to a case in the back corner where a small, green clothbound book rested on a red cushion.

  Vivi leaned in and squinted, trying to decipher the gold-leaf type on the front cover. “It’s a collection of Emily Dickinson poems.”

  Mason nodded. “This was found in the pocket of a soldier who died in France a few weeks before the end of World War One.”

  “That’s so sad,” she said softly, feeling an ache in her chest for the boy who’d never made it home. “Why’s it your favorite?”

  “I love that he brought a book of poetry into battle with him. After all the death and destruction he must’ve witnessed, he was still able to find beauty and meaning in language. I think that’s pretty inspiring.” From the wistful look in his eyes, it was clear he meant it.

  “They should have you give tours,” Vivi said, afraid of what she might say if she didn’t revert to banter.

  “Oh, they do. I’m one of the most popular guides on campus.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” Vivi asked as they made their way outside. She glanced down at the clock on her phone and let out a small yelp. “Shoot, I have to go, I’m sorry. They gave us cemetery duty tomorrow night and it’s thrown my whole schedule off.”

  “Ah yes, cemetery duty. That’s what all the girls say when they want to get rid of me.”

  “I’m serious. It’s a Kappa thing—I have to run. See you later?”

  “I certainly hope so,” he said with an expression she couldn’t read.

  Her heart began to race and she spun around quickly so he couldn’t see the expression on her face—one she was sure he’d have no trouble reading.

  A large cloud passed overhead, casting long shadows on the grass. The quad had emptied—no one was sitting on the benches or lounging under the oak trees. Vivi skipped down the steps, buoyed by the fizzy excitement that had formed during her conversation with Mason.

  As she hurried along the path that would take her through the main gates, she caught sight of a solitary figure on the far side of the quad. Someone standing perfectly still, eyes locked on Vivi.

  It was Gwen.

  In the fast fading light, she looked almost unearthly with her dark hair and startlingly pale face, and she was staring at Vivi with a look Vivi had never seen directed at her before.

  Pure hatred.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Scarlett

  Scarlett sat in the Kappa library, her psychology book open and unread in front of her. The room was her favorite in the house. All four walls were covered from floor to ceiling with old leather-bound books, some dating as far back as the 1500s, well before the Ravens became a formalized coven. Interspersed with the books were apothecary-style drawers containing crystals, herbs, and yellowed remnants of half-written spells from sisters past. The ceiling was painted a lapis lazuli blue with the stars of the night sky etched in gold leaf. In the center of it all was a circular compass, the cardinal directions delineated not with letters but the elemental signs for fire, air, water, and earth. Sitting in here was like stepping back in time, a reminder of all those who had come before her—a reminder that her problems were small and passing in the face of history, in the face of the universe as a whole. A reminder she sorely needed in this moment.

  She’d gotten home an hour ago from a typical Winter dinner: Her mom had fawned over Mason. Her father had grilled him about his postgraduation plans and LSAT scores. Eugenie had bragged about her mountain of casework while asking pointed questions about Scarlett’s bid for president. And Mason had charmed them all, like he always did. He’d also apologized to Scarlett for their fight earlier and brought her a plumeria, like the one he’d given her from his lei the night they’d met.

  It all should have felt fine, good even. But things still seemed . . . off. Even in a houseful of people who were supposed to love her the most in the world, she felt alone. Like she was the only one who noticed that the ground was shifting subtly beneath their feet. Then again, she always felt Minnie’s absence more deeply at home, where all the spaces she used to occupy were so conspicuously empty.

  Just like Kappa House was tonight, which wasn’t helping her mood. Everyone was either off studying or out at the bars.

  She sighed and opened her psychology notebook, then let out a sudden, sputtering laugh. Someone had drawn a stick figure in the margins and charmed it to dance. It almost looked like it was flossing. Scarlett smiled as she remembered all the nights she and Tiffany had spent choreographing ridiculous dance routines, routines Tiffany would sometimes bust out in in public just to cheer Scarlett up when she was having a bad day. Tiffany must have doodled this in her notebook earlier; she always seemed to know when Scarlett needed a boost. Scarlett would have given anything to have her best friend with her right then instead of sitting in this quiet house alone.

  She looked out the window and saw one of the ravens from the aviary perched on a tree limb, still as a statue. The moon through the skylight was a waning gibbous, the best time for casting spells to change and improve yourself, Minnie always said. A moon for new beginnings.

  Perhaps whether you wanted one or not.

  Scarlett took the plumeria from behind her ear and placed it on the table in front of her. Later she would put it in her Kappa Book alongside the original one she had pressed two years ago. But this flower didn’t have the same effect as the first. The first was a promise of what was to come. Now she felt herself and Mason straining to remember that promise.

  Voices and laughter sounded on the stairs, and a moment later, Dahlia, Mei, and Tiffany came into the library.

  “Hey, girls,” Scarlett said, pasting a smile on her face. “Where have you been?”

  “Ugh, Homecoming budget meeting,” Tiffany said with a roll of her eyes. Kappa was responsible for hosting the annual campus-wide event for current students and alumni. Every year the committee was amazed at how Kappa managed to come in under budget for décor. It was always a delicate dance of what they reported to the Greek council and what they hand-waved with magic.

  “You should have heard Maria. She was trying to convince the council that Theta should take over Homecoming and Kappa should do the winter formal instead,” Mei said.

  “Typical,” Scarlett said. Maria was the president of Theta, and Theta had been trying for years to compete with Kappa for top sorority. Like it even stood a chance. “Who even goes to the winter formal?”

  “That’s exactly what I said,” Tiffany said, flopping down in the leather armchair next to Scarlett. You okay? Tiffany’s voice sounded in her head. You look upset.

  Leave it to her best friend to see right through her. Scarlett tapped into her sister’s Swords magic to answer her: I’ll tell you about it later.

  Tiffany nodded, giving Scarlett’s arm a light squeeze. “Can you even imagine what our moms would say if we lost Homecoming?” Tiffany said.

  “They would die,” Dahlia said with a shake of her head.

  Mei laughed, but Tiffany went silent, her eyes suddenly glassy. “Yeah, literally, in my mom’s case,” she said.

  Dahlia went ashen. “Oh God, Tiffany. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean . . . I didn’t think—”

  But before she could finish her thought, a crack rang out, almost like a pistol shot. It was followed by a loud popping sound and another crack.

  “What the hell is that?” Tiffany said.

  The girls looked at one another, confused. “Do you smell smoke?” Mei asked, wrinkling her nose.

  “Ugh, if Sig Tau is setting off firecrackers again . . .” Scarlett pushed aside her textbook, stood up, and crossed over to the window, which looked out over the front yard and Greek Row. But it wasn’t fireworks at all.

  Down on the lawn, someone had hammered four wooden stakes into the grass. Tied to each was a scarec
row wearing robes and a pointy witch’s hat.

  And they were on fire.

  For a second, all Scarlett could do was stare. Then she let out a shout and they all flew into action. She thundered down the stairs to the first floor and burst out into the muggy night, her sisters at her heels.

  The scarecrows blazed, the flames leaping and dancing as they consumed the straw, the fabric of the robes melting and twisting. Up close, Scarlett had just enough time to see that the scarecrows had leering, overwide smiles drawn on in red marker. A moment later, their faces caved in, devoured by fire.

  Scarlett flung her arms up and instinctively reached for her magic, summoning water to douse the flames.

  “Scarlett, no!” Dahlia hissed.

  That was when Scarlett realized that a small crowd had gathered. A couple of drunk brothers from Sigma Zeta Tau stood off to the side, mouths agape, beers in hand. A few girls from Beta Beta Beta in pajama shorts and flip-flops stood in a clump, whispering to one another. Two Thetas ran out of their house hand in hand, stricken looks on their faces.

  “Bonfire!” one of the Sig Tau guys cheered, pumping his fist in the air.

  “Are you okay?” a boy asked, hopping off his bike and rushing to their sides.

  “Are those supposed to be . . . witches?” said a girl whom Scarlett recognized as the president of Gamma Theta Rho.

  “Looks like someone’s taking Hell Week too far this year,” Scarlett said quickly as more students approached with concerned and curious expressions. Someone pulled out a phone as if to take a video.

  “If another house did this to you, we should take it to the Panhellenic council. Hell, we should call 911,” one of the Tri Betas said, the orange flames reflecting in her dark eyes. She reached for her cell.

  “We don’t want to get another house in trouble, even if they deserve it,” Scarlett said, trying to defuse the situation. She threw Dahlia a panicked look. Dahlia whispered something under her breath and Scarlett felt the telltale hum of magic. Immediately, the Tri Beta’s eyes glazed over, and the entire crowd became subdued. The Tri Beta turned on her heel and walked back to her house; the rest of the students scattered as well, returning to the bikes they’d let fall on the grass or wandering back into their houses.