Nightworld Academy: Term Five
Page 29
Huh?
“Andrei,” he says as he releases her. “Stop Maeve running to her death. We don't know what’s down that tunnel.”
“Vampires!” She pulls at where I have her wrists. “We can take them on.” She turns to glare at Tobias. “Don’t say that.”
Again, huh? He never spoke.
Tobias plunges into the shadows and I drop her wrists in surprise. Ash lands heavily on the ground behind us just as Maeve pursues Tobias.
Man, I have a bad feeling about this.
The tunnel runs towards a crossroads and my sight allows me to see Tobias and Maeve ahead. They stop running and I reach them, standing in front of the tunnel end. The rock looks solid, as if somebody gave up hewing out the stone. Rocks are scattered on the floor, many covered in moss and undisturbed.
“April?” Maeve slams her hands against the rock, again and again. “April!”
A torch beam behind illuminates the scene as footsteps approach. Jamie and Ash.
She drops to her knees and scours the ground with her hands, pushing away loose stones, and dirt rises in a cloud.
I squat beside her. “There’s no circle, Maeve.”
“No blood,” says Tobias quietly. “If April was here, she escaped. She listened to you.”
“She never listened in my vision.” Maeve pushes more stones around, and they fly across the ground haphazardly. “Call her again, Jamie.”
Tobias stands with a hand on the rock, face as hard as the stone he touches. “Can you sense the energy, Andrei?”
“I can,” says Jamie. “We can’t stay here. This is corrupt and beyond anything I’ve sensed before.”
“Touch the rock,” Ash suggests as Jamie calls April. “Use your magic.”
Jamie’s face freezes in fear and he looks at Maeve on the ground. “April isn’t answering, but if there’s no blood here, then we know she’s okay.”
Maeve shakes her head. “I’ll find something.”
I’m increasingly worried she’ll injure herself, and I grab Maeve’s hands. The palms are pink. “Don’t graze your palms,” I whisper. She blinks at me and I lift her hand to my mouth, kissing where she’s sore.
Jamie hands Ash his phone and takes a shuddering breath as he tentatively places a hand on the rock. He dips his head, hair falling into his eyes. His breathing speeds and he places the other hand, pushing himself to arms' length. Maeve pauses in her digging and gazes at him.
“I can hear the heartbeat,” he whispers.
Maeve’s expression changes to triumph. “I told you the heart is real.”
“Can you divine anything?” urges Tobias.
“No. There’s a void. That could be the barrier or my imagination or— “
“There could be an actual void inside there,” I say flatly.
“How do we get in?” asks Ash.
“Blackwood runes,” whispers Maeve. “She had black stones with the runes that matched the shapes she drew.”
“Where the fuck did she find those?” growls Ash. “Who is she?”
“Where is she?” retorts Maeve as she pulls herself up. “If she escaped, we need to take those runes from her and get behind that wall.”
Tobias chews on his lip as Maeve presses her ear to the stone, face strained. “Whatever that heartbeat is, it’s in there.”
“We need to leave,” says Jamie, voice wavering. “We don't have the spell to break in, but something might break out.”
I kick around in the stones, as lost at what to do as the others. Something catches my eye—a single black pebble amongst the grey chunks. My mouth dries as I bend down. Pushing the other pebbles aside, I take hold and turn the smooth stone over in my palm. A rune is etched in white on the underside, half-obscured by a stain.
By witch blood.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
MAEVE
I sit on the blue and white striped rug on the cottage floor, head in hands, resting against the sofa. The guys surround me in silence.
How much of what happened is real? I understand my aunt’s confusion around reality now—the first time I saw the tunnels, I experienced everything as I watched April’s actions and death. The second time, with the guys, everything felt familiar, because I’d been there before.
But I hadn’t.
Once Andrei discovered the rune, the strength I’ve drawn on vanished and I vomited.
As I sat on the tunnel floor, the world around zoned in and out as the present and future vision continued to meld. I’m justified that my imaginary heartbeat is real, but terrified what lies beyond that stone. Did April die or is she behind the rock?
I barely remember walking back along the tunnel, supported by Ash and Jamie. Andrei and Tobias investigated the first tunnel in my vision but found nothing but a dead end.
Jamie attempts to call April over and over, but she doesn’t answer. Trepidation she’s hurt turns to certainty, even with his weak assurance we can check her room when I’m composed enough to return to Walcott.
“Theodora must be told,” says Tobias.
“What will she do?” I ask. “Tell the authorities?”
He runs a hand down his exhausted face. “That’s her decision, but another pupil is missing and probably dead.”
Bile pushes into my throat again.
“I think we’re close to our answer,” he says flatly. “Something powerful is beneath the academy, held by Blackwood magic. If whatever this something is exists beneath Petrescu house, there’s definite vampire involvement.” He frowns. “But the Blackwood magic makes no sense. Why would they be involved? They’ve been estranged from the vampires for years.”
“The Blackwoods have the place sealed and without breaking the magic, nobody can get inside,” Jamie says. “I bet the witches trapped whatever lies behind there and nobody can get in apart from them. Including vampires.”
Tobias’s eyes widen. “Shit. You could be right. Gabriella and the Blackwoods—that’s why she’s desperate to reforge an alliance. Whatever exists inside there must have a lot of power.”
I draw my knees to my chest and rest my cheek on them. My head pounds but the heartbeat stopped. Why do I keep hearing the heartbeat of something malevolent—the energy in that tunnel made the Blackwoods look like amateurs?
“We can’t deal with this on our own anymore, Tobias,” says Jamie. “This is bigger than us. Way bigger.”
“Yes, and I said what happens next is Theodora’s decision,” he says tersely. “Her priority will be to protect the academy.”
“From powerful forces held behind walls?” asks Ash incredulously. “She can’t do that alone.”
“But we know now,” I say. “We’ve found the epicentre of everything.”
“Yeah, but taking out Gabriella and the Blackwoods to keep them away from the academy, and whatever the fuck that is, is impossible,” says Andrei. “Together, they’re a powerhouse. Confederacy forces can't take Gabriella down, they’ve tried for years. How could they take on both?”
I sense a shift in Tobias’s energy, but his mind remains impenetrable. His eyes meet mine for a single heartbeat before he looks away; enough time for me to catch his fear. He doesn't believe the Confederacy can win.
This will be a bigger war than anybody could imagine.
“Do you think whatever is behind that wall might break out?” I ask.
“Not without somebody using Blackwood magic to break the hold. If what you saw happened, April’s weak attempt made no difference.”
“If we keep the Blackwoods away, everything will be okay,” I say. Aware how dumb my optimism is, I cast my eyes down.
“Are you up to heading back to Walcott, Maeve?” asks Jamie. “We could look for April, in case she’s…” He trails off.
Alive.
Tobias walks to the window and looks out. “We need to work on the shifter connection to all this,” says Tobias. “Somebody connected to the Blackwoods created Vincent. We’ve taken our eye off the ball with him. Ash, you need to reforge your
alliance too.”
His face darkens. “With Clive and Remi?”
“Yes.”
“Cut myself off again? Risk shifting?” There’s no anger in his tone, only defeat. The pain in my heart from tonight’s events intensifies. Ash will be on his own again—for us.
I shuffle across the floor to rest my head against his legs and he takes my hand.
“Do we tell Amelia?” I ask.
“I’m unsure. Before we make any decisions about anything, I need to speak with Theodora,” he repeats.
“And then meet tomorrow, after you’ve spoken to Theodora?” I ask.
Tobias taps his lips. “No. I have somewhere I need to be tomorrow.”
“Again?” protests Andrei. “Secret Confederacy meetings?”
Tobias's eyes flash in anger. “No. Don't question me.”
“Tobias,” I say, incredulous. “Can’t whatever you need to do wait until we’ve taken steps to protect ourselves? We’re in more danger than ever and you're walking away!”
This time when his eyes meet mine, he doesn't look away.
I wouldn't go if I didn’t need to. Trust me.
“I’ve no choice,” he says aloud. “I have to go, but I promise I’ll return by tomorrow evening.”
I’m too exhausted to protest; the prospect of a walk back to Walcott feels like a trek across the moors. Nobody else argues either, but we share disbelief that Tobias would walk away the day after we discovered something enormous.
Whatever reason he’s leaving for had better be a bloody good one.
Chapter Sixty
TOBIAS
I stand with my hands buried deep in my jacket pockets and steel myself. With everything happening, the last thing I want to do this morning is visit a terraced house in a village almost two hours away from the academy.
I didn't lie to the others. I’ve no choice.
Even if I don't want to know the truth, Maeve deserves to. I calmed her when she freaked out about the letter and promised I’d dig deep for answers. The problem is, the answers I found raised more questions, and I’m left with one person who knows the truth.
Is she still here? Marie wrote her address on the letter to Maeve, but I’ve heard she’s hard to track down because she flits from place to place.
I met her once and witnessed how she’s unstable and not connected to the world. Will she remember me at all?
This could be a huge waste of time.
A bronze bell hangs above the black front door with a long chain hanging down. Curtains are drawn across the tall window to the left, and herbs or weeds grow inside brown ceramic pots close to my feet.
As I lift my hand to ring the bell, the door opens.
Marie regards me without surprise but says nothing. She’s tiny, dressed in skinny jeans and a sleeveless blue top revealing tattooed arms. The only resemblance to Maeve is her white blonde hair, but Marie’s isn’t natural.
“Can I speak to you?” I ask as I fight against reading her mind. Marie would sense the intrusion, and I can’t piss her off before I’ve had a chance to ask my questions.
Still, Marie doesn't speak. She has forgotten me.
“Sorry, I didn't introduce myself. I’m— “
“Tobias Whitlock. Yes. I’ve seen you.” She wrinkles her nose. “In my head, or have we met?”
“Once.”
Cars pass along the road behind me and I’m half-inclined to use mental magic to get myself through her door.
“Is this about Maeve?” she asks.
“Yes. Maeve asked me to look into something for her, and you might be able to help.”
“Oh?” She opens the door wider. “You should come inside, then.”
I follow her along a carpeted hallway into a lounge room crammed with chairs and shelves. Every inch is covered with books or knick-knacks; even the armchair she offers me contains too many cushions. I place one on the floor to allow me enough space to sit.
Witches’ homes always have a peculiar smell, the way Sofia’s classroom and Walcott do—pungent combinations of oils and herbs.
“What would you like help with?” Marie sits in the chair beside the empty fireplace and curls her legs under herself.
I bite down hard on my lip as I summon the words. “Is Maeve a Winterfall?”
No reaction.
“A Winterfall witch.”
Confusion flickers across her face as she stares at me, then her mouth parts. “It is you. You're him.”
“If you know my name, you know who I am,” I say, attempting not to sound rude.
“My memories mix with the future,” she says. “I never know for sure who people are. But I do know the Winterfalls are dead. Are you him? Did you kill them?”
My name was suppressed—how else could the authorities let me walk the world without witches killing me—but some know who I am.
“I did see you,” she says. “You were younger, and your hair was longer. Forgive me for not remembering, but the vision was almost twenty years ago.”
“I was a small child twenty years ago.”
“And I am a future-sighted witch,” she says. “I saw far into the future, to the older Tobias Whitlock.”
I swallow. “You haven’t answered my question.”
Marie rubs her lips. “Do you think Maeve is a Winterfall?”
“I don't know how she could be, because they’re all— “
“Dead, Tobias?”
My chest tightens. “Yes. Maeve couldn’t be a pure witch or her birth would be recorded, but is her father a Winterfall?”
“Do you mean was her father? The Winterfalls are dead.”
I squirm at her repeatedly reminding me about the past and shoot back, “Is Maeve your daughter, Marie?”
For a second, she looks at me as if I’ve asked her to dance naked around the room, and then she bursts into laughter. “Goodness, no. I don't have any children.”
“Then Maeve’s parents are her real ones?”
“And who decides what a real parent is?” She smiles.
“Fine. Are they her biological parents?” I watch her face for clues, because there’s no possibility that I could find anything in her muddled mind.
“Why are you asking me these questions? If this is what Maeve wants to know, where is she?”
“At the academy.”
“Does she know you’re here?”
“No, but I promised her answers,” I say firmly and sit forward. “I have to say, Marie, you’re not as I expected.”
“Oh?” She props her hand beneath her chin, elbow on the chair arm, and studies me.
“I heard that you’re unhinged from reality. You seemed odd last time I met you.”
“I have lucid times, but I’ve spent too much of my life living inside my visions and trying to help save lives. That takes a toll.”
“And now?”
She brushes at her jeans. “Now I know this is the present, but I’ve visions of you in the future and in the past.”
I rub my forehead in exasperation at her cryptic manner. “Who is Maeve?”
“Who are you?”
Bloody hell. “I’m Tobias Whitlock. A professor from the Nightworld Academy.” She cocks a brow. “And I spent time locked up at Ravenhold for murdering the Winterfalls.”
“I saw that you lived. I don't understand why, after the atrocities I saw.”
“You were there?” I ask hoarsely. “You saw what I did that day?”
“No, Tobias. I saw what you did fifteen years before that day. I saw everything in a vision so horrific I’m still haunted today.”
Could Marie have stopped me? Did this woman have the opportunity to interfere in the atrocities? “Fifteen years?” I slump back. “I don't understand. Why would you envision the day they died?”
“I knew them,” she says softly. “I once loved Corin Winterfall with an intensity I’ve never repeated. One day I saw what would happen to his family. I couldn't predict when—there wasn’t enough information in my visi
on—and the Winterfalls vowed to protect themselves. They wanted to ensure the Winterfall line wasn’t destroyed, and took steps to prevent the magic dying.”
I grasp at her words. “You had Corin’s baby and hid her?”
“No, I told you, Maeve isn't my daughter.”
Exasperation takes hold. “Marie, tell me who Maeve is, because I no longer believe she has human parents. There are secrets surrounding Maeve and she suffers—has for years—and now I’m uncovering lies. The girl’s life has been hell."
Marie closes her eyes. “If you were a powerful family and somebody predicted a massacre, what would you do? Save somebody who has pure Winterfall blood, yes, but how safe would the person be if those planning the murders knew the name of every family member?
Corin’s sister had a daughter and the elders made the decision to take her away from the family and hide her. The birth was never recorded.” She pauses and her hard eyes meet mine. “The child survived the massacre because she lived in the human world, estranged from supernatural society. Nobody knew she existed—they still don't.”
“No,” I whisper and shake my head wishing the words hadn't been spoken. “No.”
“Yes, Tobias. Due to my vision and the Winterfalls’ actions, you never killed Maeve Winterfall, and so Maeve Foster survives.”
The truth smacks into me hard enough that I’m knocked from the world for a moment, where reality is a dizzy place in the distance. “Maeve is a Winterfall,” I say to myself, heart racing with fear.
“Yes.”
Chapter Sixty-One
TOBIAS
I rake a hand through my hair and the answer I wanted—but didn't—rings in my ears. “You hid Maeve with humans? With your sister? Did she know who the child was?” And why the fuck have they lied to Maeve?
“We couldn't allow her to live in the witch society until the danger passed. To be honest, I thought that would be a matter of months, perhaps a year, as I never saw far into the future normally.” She sighs. “My sister believes Maeve is my daughter. This all happened around the time I struggled with visions—the point my reality began to blur, and Maeve’s mother always thought this was a lifestyle choice.”