How to Raise the Dead

by Leigh Kelsey

  Kati made a sound in the back of her throat, turning away.

  “What?” Naia asked, peering up.

  “Nothing,” Kati muttered.

  Naia shrugged.

  “Done!” Rahmi announced, and Kati discovered with mild surprise that she’d gone from a pretty girl to a total babe in the space of ten minutes. Foundation, contour, and bronzed to perfection, her winged eyeliner so sharp it could cut a bitch and her red lip just as precise.

  “How the hell did you do that?” Kati demanded. All she’d done was concealed the blotchy imperfections on her face after she’d showered and even that had taken a few minutes to blend in. “Are you a make-up witch?”

  Rahmi’s laugh was bright and delighted. “I wish! I’d pass that class in a week.” At Kati’s unsatisfied expression, she explained, “I watch a tonne of make-up tutorials and I practise a lot. Like a lot. That’s how I’m so fast.”

  “I’m jealous,” Kati admitted.

  Rahmi beamed. “I can show you sometime,” she offered genuinely. “Girls pamper night. This Saturday night.”

  “Yes!” Naia agreed with enthusiasm, so loud that Kati took a step away, her ears ringing.

  “Kati?” Rahmi asked hopefully.

  She’d wanted to know how to do a cat eye so sharp it looked stabby, not have a spa day, but she shrugged. “I’ll endure it.”

  Rahmi fist pumped, rudely interrupted by her stomach rumbling. “Brilliant. But first, I need breakfast or I’m going to die.”

  Kati wholeheartedly agreed.

  SBA: A WALKING TOUR

  “Here we are, then!” Miz Jardin said brightly, herding the first-year students into one big group on the clipped lawn around the back of the academy. It was the side, Kati noticed, that she could see out her window: the woods before them, the curving path there, and just visible beyond it, the silver shimmer of the lake. “Your first grand tour of Second Breath Academy! Are you all excited?” She paused to receive a few muttered yesses. “Right, then, everyone on this side, you’ll be following Mrs Hale, everyone on that side, you’ll be following Mr Worth, and you lucky people in the middle are with me.”

  Kati didn’t react as Mr Worth strolled over to Kati’s, Rahmi’s, and Naia’s side. Well, theirs and four other students. He gave them a bright smile and genuinely, unironically, lifted a closed pink umbrella into the deep navy sky above him and said, “After me, then. I thought we’d start at the Fountain.”

  Kati shook her head, smirking. What did he think he was, a tour guide showing them all the murder hotspots of Whitechapel? It was embarrassing. And fucking adorable. Kati’s mouth thinned as interest flared in her, all the darkness that had gathered in her soul these nine months drawn to his unassuming, harmless light.

  “Oh, he’s cute,” Rahmi whispered with a smile, elbowing Kati.

  Kati shrugged, saying nothing, and followed the group of students as they descended the gentle slope of lawn behind the academy to the gravel path Kati had spied from her window. Her smirk deepening, Kati glanced at Mr Worth, finding the notebook she’d seen him scrawling in through her dorm window sticking out from his trouser pocket. Tenner said he’d rehearsed this tour speech and that his book was full of history notes.

  Dork.

  “Does everyone know the history of this building?” he asked as they walked, turning to check he still had all the students he was meant to. His eyes very briefly met Kati’s and she glanced away, as if he could read that she fancied him in a single second of eye contact. She could have kicked herself; he could definitely read it in the way she looked away, her cheeks warming.

  Rahmi nudged her with a grin. Kati shoved her back but harder, snorting when Rahmi swore.

  “It was built in 1717,” Mr Worth went on, after a girl with poker straight blonde hair answered that she didn’t know SBA’s history. Unlike Kati, who’d devoured A Concise Guide To Second Breath Academy when she was twelve. It hadn’t included the good stuff though, like Naia’s murder ballroom story or the woman with the knife in her mouth, rendered in stone in the lobby. “By a wealthy man,” Mr Worth continued, his voice rich and pleasant when it should have been droning and boring, “aristocrat, distant royal. Three hundred and fourth in line to be king, if I remember rightly.”

  As if someone would vaguely remember the number three hundred and four.

  “It was intended to be a regular home, but upon his death, it passed to his daughter, Mistress Halliwell, whose name I’m sure you all recognise. She was the one who set up the academy, and invited necromancers and reapers from all over the country to come to her house—well, castle I suppose—and learn the safest and best ways to harness their magic. There are conflicting stories about why she established SBA, but I like to think she preferred a busy house, and after her father died, it was too lonely. Her students became a second family for her—that much is agreed upon. She ran the academy for hundreds of years before she finally retired, an Eternal at the grand old age of two hundred and ninety six.”

  They hmmed and ahhed in the appropriate places, but Kati knew all this, and judging by the way Naia kept nodding, as if confirming his facts were correct, she knew this story too.

  “Oh,” Mr Worth said, jabbing his pastel pink umbrella at a part of the academy as they passed it. “If you look up here, that jagged bit of stone where it looks like something has been broken off? That’s where the west tower used to be. Have you heard the story?” Kati had; it’d had an entire chapter in the concise guide. “It was a perfectly ordinary tower, identical to the other three—but of course without the clock faces and bell of the clocktower—until one day in 1799, it vanished for no apparent reason. Nobody knows why. Historians, architects, and magicians from all around the world have come to investigate the disappearance, but we’re still none the wiser. One day it was there, the next it was gone! It’s now known more commonly as the Stolen Tower.”

  “Is it haunted?” the girl with poker-straight hair asked, squinting up at the jagged bit of black stone.

  “Not that I’m aware of,” Mr Worth replied with a little laugh. “But who can say for sure?”

  “I’m hungry,” Kati complained to Naia, tuning out the history lesson as they resumed their walk and rounded the academy’s front corner, the valley and grassy mountains closing in around them, the sky a telling steel colour. Kati looked mournfully at her hoodie, made of easily-soaked cotton. She should have known better; she’d lived in York all her life and was quite familiar with its temperamental weather.

  “You had breakfast half an hour ago,” Naia whispered, darting glances at Mr Worth as if scared he’d notice she wasn’t paying attention even for a split second. “You can’t still be hungry.”

  “Now, the second headmaster, Mistress Halliwell’s successor,” Mr Worth went on as he steered them away from SBA’s paths towards the valley’s center, where the Fountain monument soared up from the ground, as tall as a double decker bus, “was called—”

  “Where did that kid die last year?” someone asked. It was a loud, nasally male voice. Kati hadn’t noticed him before but she marked his giant forehead and squinty eyes and made a mental note: asshole. “It was round here, wasn’t it? I read it was in the forest just past the Fountain.”

  Mr Worth stumbled in his history lesson, and Kati had a moment of sympathy and second hand embarrassment as he fumbled for a response. “I don’t know,” he said after a pause, giving the guy who’d spoken a less than friendly look. “I only arrived here three days ago; I know as much as you do.”

  “Oh, come on,” Blondie disagreed. “You must know something.”

  “I know it’s inappropriate to be gossiping about an accident we know too little about,” Mr Worth said firmly, his expression going from irritated to closed, his blue eyes sharp in a warning. “I know a student died and his family are still mourning his loss. How would you feel if it were your family? I won’t say any more on this subject.”

  Kati inhaled a sharp breath, noticing that Rahmi and Naia had in
ched closer to her at the turn of the subject, as if they could fend off people’s judgement. But by whatever luck was still left in the universe, the other four in their group didn’t seem to realise who she was. No one turned to glare or gawp and sneer. Yet.

  Her shoulders dropped from their place up by her ears and she shoved her hands in her hoodie pockets as they resumed walking, the Fountain so close now that Kati could make out the whorls and spirals carved into its tall stone surface in the glow of the new moon. A tightness had gripped her chest and she couldn’t shake it off; rather it seemed to grow the closer she got to the Fountain, as if she were personally responsible for the names etched around the stone lip.

  Mr Worth glanced over his shoulder, a split second of a look that landed on Kati. A question in those kind blue eyes: was she okay?

  So he knew. Of course he did. She bet all the teachers had had a meeting about her on the first day; watch out for her, the sister of a maybe-murderer, she might turn out to be evil too. Kati narrowed her eyes in her fiercest glare until he turned away and didn’t give a shit that she’d been rude to a teacher, that he’d probably hold a grudge that would follow her through her three years here, or that she’d lashed out at someone who’d seemed genuinely concerned. She didn’t need his damn pity.

  She just needed everyone to forget she was related to Theo for a few hours.

  Kati winced, regretting the words the second she thought them, but the wish lingered in her mind like infection in a wound. Theo was innocent, wrongly judged, and Kati would defend him until she was blue in the face. But … if he’d just had a regular school year, Kati wouldn’t feel sick right now. She wouldn’t have a brutal grip on her chest, restricting breath. She wouldn’t be debating turning on her heel and stalking back to the dorm, Mr Worth’s disapproval be damned.

  She was a second away from bolting when Rahmi’s arm slipped around hers, their elbows locking together. Beside her, Naia offered a sympathetic frown that made Kati feel stabby, but she pulled in a deep breath and restrained herself. If only because there were five other people here and all of them would bear witness to her outburst. They’d use it as proof that she was dangerous like Theo and then she’d really be kicked out of the academy.

  If she wanted to get through the day, the month, the year, the whole school period, she needed to mind her temper, and her fight or flight responses.

  No drama, no danger, no evil deeds. She had to be a completely normal student.

  Kati suddenly wished she’d worn more make-up. A dark red lip would be a nice plate of armour right now. Instead she drew her hoodie closer around her with one hand, her other arm still trapped in Rahmi’s. She knew what it was; comfort yes, but a show of strength and solidarity to anyone who might be watching too.

  Naia would likely have done the same if her eyes hadn’t glazed over, her mouth slightly ajar as she listened to Mr Worth spin the tale of the Fountain, as she dared to reach out and graze her fingers over it when they were close enough.

  Kati’s stomach turned at the sight of it. It had been built when the academy had, and for years it had been a regular, functioning well—albeit a giant, impressive one—but in more recent history, it had taken on a different, deeper meaning.

  Ten years ago, Lady LaVoire had attacked SBA for reasons unknown. The Fountain now stood as a monument to the school’s survival and a memorial to the seven students and four teachers lost that day, their names carved into the lip of the well, protective sigils cut into every other brick. The same spells were etched in the moonstone key that hung around Kati’s neck, so that only those who were meant to be at SBA could enter.

  If the past year had been erased, Kati would stand here and be horrified that something so terrible had happened at her school; she’d be scared at the idea of something similar happening now; she’d be humbled to stand on ground that people had given their lives to defend. But the comparisons bled into her mind—Theo and Lady LaVoire, ritual murderer and black magician—and she felt sick.

  “Mr Worth?” Rahmi asked as he finished the story of the teachers’ courage and the students’ tragic deaths. He glanced over with a questioning, open expression, pushing his glasses up his nose. Kati glanced at Rahmi, nervous at what she was about to say, irrationally scared that the last day had been a lie and Rahmi was about to throw Kati under the bus. In her head, she could hear Rahmi saying Theo was just like the bitch who’d killed all those people and that Kati was just like him.

  But Rahmi grimaced, her eyes narrowed in pain, and said, “I’ve got a really bad headache, I think the moonlight’s making it worse. Do you mind if I go back to my room? I’ve had them before, I just need to close the curtains and sleep for a couple hours.”

  She said it in such a straightforward, honest way that even Kati didn’t realise she was lying for a few seconds. Oh. Oh. Kati’s face heated with tears, and she’d never been more grateful for someone in her whole life. She was fracturing, this close to the Fountain, to where Colen Greensmith had died, and Rahmi could see it. She was helping, getting her out of there.

  “Of course,” Mr Worth said, his eyes soft in concern. Souls, how could he be so nice all the time? It looked exhausting. “We can always resume the tour at another time, or I could email you some helpful documents.”

  “That would be amazing,” Rahmi said, and winced.

  Naia touched her arm, either playing along or totally buying it.

  “Do you mind if Kati walks me back to our dorm?” Rahmi asked pleadingly. “Just in case it gets really bad and I need help?”

  Mr Worth’s eyes lit with understanding, and then they softened to an unbearable degree as he looked between Rahmi and Kati. Kati glanced away, a lump in her throat. She didn’t deserve this kindness from either of them. All she’d done was be a bitch since the second she’d stepped off the bus yesterday. “That’s not a problem, Rahmi. You make sure she gets to her room okay, Kati.” The compassion in his voice was like an arrow to Kati’s chest, but some of the tightness eased at the escape both he and Rahmi were giving her.

  He was too fucking kind. And too perceptive, damn him.

  “Will do,” Kati said, relieved when her voice came out normal and not tight and thick with emotion as she’d expected. She gave Mr Worth a last look, hoping he saw the thank you in her gaze, and used their linked elbows to turn Rahmi away from the group. “Naia you should stay, soak up the history. Then you can tell us what we miss.” Kati winked, feeling a bit more like herself, and Naia grinned for a brief moment before she remembered to be worried about Rahmi.

  “Feel better,” she said as they left the group. “I’ll take notes!”

  Knowing Naia, she meant that seriously. Fake headache or not, she and Rahmi were still missing the tour. Naia must have thought they were devastated.

  The second they were out of view, Rahmi took her hand from where it was pressed to her head and straightened from her stooped position, flashing Kati a grin.

  “Thanks,” Kati said quietly, tugging her hoodie closer around her middle and feeling surprisingly vulnerable now they were away from the group, only the stars above and Rahmi to witness her weakness. “I don’t know why you did that but … thanks.”

  “We’re friends,” Rahmi said simply, shrugging a shoulder. “Friends bail each other out of shitty situations. Besides, nobody ever learned the layout of a place from a guided tour. If you really want to get to know somewhere, you need to explore.”

  Rahmi’s expression was devilish.

  “Rahmi Qureshi, you bad, bad girl.” Kati gave her a slow smile. She needed this distraction, needed something fun to burn away her anxiety. “Where should we start?”

  Above them, the clocktower gave an obnoxious clang to announce the hour, and Kati and Rahmi shared a look.

  “The clocktower,” they said together.

  IT WAS BOUND TO HAPPEN SOME TIME

  The clocktower was at once part of the academy building and separate, accessible from the inside and out. A tall, thin spiky tower,
it looked tacked onto the main structure like an afterthought. The four faces of its clock shone in the bright glow of the floodlights—dotted around SBA’s grounds to combat the night darkness—the spire at its tip poking just slightly above the glittering face of the Diamond Rotunda.

  “This damn academy,” Kati said, shaking her head as she looked up at the clocktower.

  Rahmi frowned at her, her face red from the trek around the building, vivid against the soft pink of her hijab. “What?”

  “I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if someone told me it’d been built in Transylvania and then shipped here.”

  Rahmi laughed through her nose, grabbing the handle of the heavy wood door at the tower’s base and heaving it open a crack. Kati added her weight and, as if it had been stuck or merely stubborn, the door swung open all at once, nearly sending them to their asses on the path.

  “Bitch,” Kati hissed at the door, her eyes narrowed in a scowl as she regained her balance, Rahmi’s fingers digging into her shoulder so she didn’t fall over herself. “If there isn’t a trapdoor, a cheesy suit of armour, or … I don’t fucking know, the ghost of a drag queen in this place, I’m gonna bulldoze it. Make it worth my time and effort,” she growled at the gloomy interior beyond the door.

  Rahmi’s loud snort echoed around the tiny stairwell they found themselves in, bouncing up and up and up until her words vanished into silence. Kati tipped her head back and let out a low whistle. It was more impressive from down here than it had been from outside, moon- and flood-light breaking into the tiny staircase at random intervals through narrow glass panes set in its walls. At the very top, the landing seemed to glow, set alight by the clock faces.

  “You,” Kati snarled upon seeing the thick brass bell hanging just beneath the vaulted ceiling. “Mine worst enemy.”

  Rahmi looked between the ceiling and Kati. “I don’t get it.”