When we stopped at the kitchen door, hidden unless you knew where to look apparently, Ramsey pulled a key on a string from around his neck I hadn’t noticed was there.
“Where did you get that?”
“The same place I got your dagger.” A devious grin that showed his dimples crept over his mouth. “The headmistress’s office.”
“Oh good,” I said with a sigh. “So she’ll know exactly who to blame. Thanks.”
“Give me a little credit at least? I made duplicates. She’ll never know.”
“How did you get in there in the first place? I suppose she just let you in?”
“Well, yeah.” He plugged the key into the door and turned it. “And then came the distraction so I could take her office key. The Diabolicals are excellent at it. How else did you think I beat Headmistress Millington to the dungeon the day you got released?”
I hadn’t been thinking about it at all, actually. Until now.
As soon as he opened the door, he held out his hand to stop me and cocked his head, listening. But I didn’t hear anything. He stepped inside first, his steps slow and cautious.
“What is it?” I whispered after him.
He turned slowly, his gaze taking in the entirety of the kitchen. “I heard something. Someone’s in here,” he said, voice low. “Someone who shouldn’t be.”
Icy tendrils unspooled inside my gut, squirmed through my veins, and froze me solid. I could feel it too. Someone was here with us.
“Omnibus hic inesse magicam humectare.”
Neither of us said that. The voice came from all around us, neither male nor female.
Something slammed into my back. With a yelp, I stumbled forward, Vickie’s diary slipping from my fumbling fingers. The diary skidded along the floor in front of me and came to a sudden stop like it had hit an invisible wall. A sudden breeze blew it open and rifled wildly through its pages.
“What in seven hells?” Ramsey shouted.
Swallowing hard, I stepped into the kitchen. A great whoosh of air filled the space. The diary slammed shut. The next instant, the two fires in the fireplaces and all the torches along the kitchen walls extinguished in puffs of smoke. Pitch-black pressed in on all sides.
A terrified chill shuddered my bones to the quick. “What— What happened? What was that?”
“I don’t know.”
I could barely make out his form in the sliver of moonlight shining through the open door behind me. A statue made of pale ice.
“But that was a shadow-walker that bumped into you. I’m sure of it. Nothing else was there.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. Another one. Another shadow-walker.
From somewhere inside the darkened academy, someone screamed.
Chapter Eight
I rushed forward blindly, my heart slamming my panic deeper into my veins. "Who screamed?"
Seph. Oh gods, I had to go to her.
"I don't know,” Ramsey said, closing the kitchen door behind me. “But the more important question might be what happened to the magic in the school?" A pause, then, "And why my magic isn't working."
"What?" I snapped my fingers, and a flame of murky gray light licked across my palm. "Are your reserves—"
"My reserves are fine."
Realization crashed to the forefront with a surge of renewed panic. "The dampener. It's here." I looked up at him, my stomach dropping lower than my toes. "The stone!"
He grabbed my wrist as I started to run toward it. "We need to find the dampener."
"But all of the stone's protections—"
"Could come back once we find the dampener and destroy it." He glanced down at Vickie's diary on the floor by his boot and knelt next to it.
I stared at the small light burning in my hand. "Why am I not affected by the dampener and you are?"
"You were outside and I was inside when that spell was uttered." Cautiously, he picked up the diary. "This was inside."
"Is the dampener inside it?”
With a brutal rip, he tore the pages from the leather cover, and lemon seeds cascaded to the floor from the narrow space between the spine and the pages.
"One of these might be the dampener.” He gazed up at me, my gray light giving his gray eyes a silvery glow. “Help me pick them all up."
I knelt next to him and helped with one hand while I lit the shadows with the other. "These all look like lemon seeds."
"But something caused the magic to go out."
"Do you think Vickie had the dampener? Did the skin-walker just...give it to her after it was stolen from White Magic Academy?" I gasped. “Was she the skin-walker?”
He shook his head, the pile of seeds in his palm growing higher. "I have a feeling there's a lot about Vickie we didn't know."
"She did say she knew where Professor Wadluck was. Maybe because she put him there."
Even as I said it, though, I didn’t think that was right. She’d hid in a second bedroom for a reason, was murdered for a reason.
Ramsey released a long breath. "I heard a sound in here, Dawn, felt a presence, but the shadow-walker came from behind you. It's almost as if there was more than one person working together to make sure the dampener was activated."
I nodded. "A skin-walker. A shadow-walker."
"And whoever else."
“So if we find the dampener, there has to be a way to un-activate it.” I poured all of my collected seeds into his hands, almost two fistfuls worth. Vickie really loved her lemons.
He stood as he pocketed them. “I sure hope so. Do you have anything else on you that might be the dampener?”
“No. Noth—” My fingers grazed my pocket with the bell inside. The bell from the cemetery that had been placed by an invisible hand so I’d be sure to find it. Had I brought the dampener in by mistake? Crushing guilt weighted my shoulders, but maybe that wasn’t the dampener. I retrieved it and held it out to him.
He took it and pocketed it too. "Now we find the headmistress. Come on."
But what about not trusting anyone? How could we possibly protect the stone now if it wasn't just one person we couldn't trust, but possibly several, in an academy that had been dampened of all magic? Except my magic, apparently.
With my light guiding us, we stepped out of the kitchen. In a school with no windows, and now no light, complete darkness took on a whole new meaning. It pressed against my chest, constricting my breaths, and dug beneath my skin. With no light, there was no heat, and a damp chill snaked its way through my cloak.
Ramsey stayed close, his steps more confident than mine.
"How are we going to explain to the headmistress why we're out after the dark hour?" I whispered.
Of all the things to be worried about, I’d choose every single thing imaginable. Always.
"I'll come up with something."
A distraction, probably. I kind of envied his assurance that he had it under control, that everything would be all right. I didn’t think that at all.
Behind us, a door creaked. It sounded like it came from the kitchen.
My steps hesitated.
He took my elbow and sped his pace. "Keep moving. If whoever that is is on Ryze’s side, we don’t need to have any more dealings with them."
A tremor ripped down my back. Maybe it was the shadow-walker sneaking up on us. After all, since it had been outside, too, when the dampener activated, it still had its magic. Beyond my light, every shadow crept closer and closer.
Ramsey quickly turned us left through the door that led up the steps to the stage area in the Gathering Room. I shivered. The temperature felt like we might as well have been outside.
I slid off the edge of the stage like I was made from a block of ice while Ramsey flowed off of it like water and landed in a crouch, his movements naturally silent and graceful.
Ahead, the sound of the Gathering Room's heavy doors opening froze me in place. Two lanterns swung on the other side from outstretched arms. I clenched my fist and snuffed out my light, drenching us in da
rkness once again.
"I'll check the kitchen. You check the second pantry, and then we’ll exit through the kitchen and circle around to the front doors." That was Professor Margo Woolery's voice, her boots clipping right toward us, and her lantern about to spotlight us.
I didn't know who the other lantern belonged to, but they were fast approaching too.
Ramsey pressed in close to my side and shoved me toward the junior table. I dove underneath it with him right next to me, his hand at my waist and his other on top of my head so I wouldn't hit it on the hard wood edge. Then we lay on the floor, out of sight hopefully. I slammed my mouth shut trying to quiet my ragged breaths.
"It's freezing in here. You still can't get your magic to work?" That was Mrs. Tentorville, the librarian, coming up on the other side of our table.
I had no idea if my feet were sticking out, or if any other part of me was, but if they saw us... Well, it would be even harder to explain why we were hiding underneath a table together.
"Not a lick of it,” Professor Woolery said. “Yours?"
"Nothing."
They swept past us and continued toward the stage.
"The magic dampener, Margo..." Mrs. Tentorville began.
"Let's see what we can find first," she said, her voice tense. "Maybe there's another explanation."
I hoped so too.
They took the same route we did up the stage and then down the steps to the kitchen hallway.
Ramsey released a breath that warmed my cheek and eased the pressure of his elbow in my ribs. His lips moved at my ear. "That was close."
"You can get off of me n—"
Something grabbed my boots and yanked me out from under the table.
"Dawn!" Ramsey hissed and scrambled after me.
I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Terror had crushed my throat closed. But then my boots dropped back to the floor. Snapping my light into my palm, I whipped around to face who'd attacked me—but there was no one there.
Shadow-walker.
Ramsey threw himself in front of me, towering above me as I held shakily to the floor. "Show yourself," he demanded.
A blast of angry heat curled my hands into fists, and I hauled myself to my feet. The last time I'd felt so helpless, I'd stood over my brother's dead body while staring at his killer—Ramsey, but not Ramsey. I'd never wanted to feel that way again.
This person was playing games, but as a shadow-walker myself, I could play too. Just not right this second.
"Come on." I didn't bother waiting for Ramsey as I marched toward the double doors, but he soon stuck to my back, his cloak rustling behind me as he kept an eye out.
"We need two murderers' hands in a hurry," he muttered. “Or two hands from one murderer.”
"If we catch who killed Vickie and Leo, we'll have them," I said through gritted teeth.
Before we reached the doors, the sophomore table lurched in front of me with an angry screech and blocked the exit. The junior table slid from behind and kept coming. We were about to be crushed between two slabs of heavy wood.
“Jump!” Ramsey said, but I was way ahead of him.
I leaped up onto the bench of the sophomore table while Ramsey jumped onto the junior one. They crashed into each other loudly and knocked us into each other. We held our breaths, searching for a moving shadow beyond the gray light in my palm.
Ramsey took my free hand and spilled some black salt into my palm. Black salt was the same thing he’d once used on me to force me out of the shadows. I cupped it tightly and waited to fling it. Why was this shadow-walker attacking me? And then I remembered the death charm I’d found in my pocket. Had that been the shadow-walker too?
My table gave a rough jerk and wrenched me away from Ramsey. The force toppled me sideways.
“Dawn!”
I landed on the stone floor, hip first, vital organs next, then my head, all smashing the hard surface with bruising intensity.
“Dawn.” Ramsey leaped down next to me and touched my shoulder. “Are you all right?”
“No,” I groaned. Somehow, my light still glowed and highlighted the worry drawn across his brow.
“Shit.” He squeezed my shoulder. “Without magic, I can’t heal you.”
I pulled in a breath. “Bind thee in health... Protect mind and soul too... Boost vigor and happiness... Make it all renew.”
I touched where I hurt the most, so pretty much everywhere, and a web of gray light formed over my body. Instantly, my throbbing aches felt better, and I managed to sit up with Ramsey’s help.
“Let’s get out of here.” With a wary eye aimed around us, he eased me to my feet. “Think we can get to Vickie’s room without dying?”
“Doubtful.”
We started toward the doors again and moved the tables out of our way. Nothing tried to stop us.
The doors opened on their own, shoving the tables aside, and there stood Headmistress Millington, a furious twist to her barely there lips. Her lantern glowed upon the hair frizzed around her head like a halo and reflected in her glare. More professors pushed in behind her.
"What was all that racket? Why are the tables shoved in front of the door?" she demanded, her voice nearing hysterical. "And what are you two doing out after the dark hour?"
"I heard someone scream and came to check it out," I said smoothly, which was sort of true.
“That was me,” she huffed. “When the torches went out, I took a spill.”
I could tell. A fresh bruise was starting to form along her cheek.
The natural healer in me sparked alive. “Would you like me to—”
“No, I’m fine, Dawn, but thank you,” she said, her face softening momentarily. “I need to figure out what exactly caused the school’s magic, and everyone else’s, to give out.”
A professor I didn’t know peered at the light in my hand. "Why does Dawn's magic work and no one else's does?"
"I'm not sure." The headmistress shook her head, seeming exhausted. “Come on, everyone. Spread out. See what you can find.”
"Headmistress, I need to talk to you alone, please." Ramsey touched her gently on the arm and led her away a few steps so their backs faced me. He slipped Vickie's diary out from his pocket. "I found Vickie's diary..."
"Found it? Found it where?"
"And look at this last page here." He flipped to the back, and the headmistress fell quiet instantly as she likely read Vickie’s announcement about knowing where Professor Wadluck was.
A brilliant strategy to avoid answering questions, honestly—dodge it and then shock them into total distraction.
The rest of the professors were fanning out around the Gathering Room, the legs of the tables and benches screeching along the floor as they moved them back into place. No one was paying me any attention.
Except Ramsey. He glanced behind him while the headmistress spoke in a low, tense voice I couldn't make out, and then shooed me out the doors with his hand behind his back. Okay, so I was to go to Vickie's room alone, then.
But first? Seph.
The entryway was dark, so I kept my light in my palm and headed for the stairs, urgency biting at my feet. The feeling that something was wrong with her overrode my dread about the shadows or what might be lurking inside them. Always watching. Always listening. Besides, I had some black salt in my other hand and more in my trunk.
I burst into our room as quietly as my speed would allow—and then stopped. She lay there on her bed, still tied up, sleeping and with Nebbles cradling her face between her paws while she nuzzled her neck. Relieved, I put my hand to my chest and willed my slamming heart to ease up. This constant worrying was going to eat me alive.
As silently as I could, I opened my trunk and found my little container of black salt, all the while aiming my light into the hidden corners of the room. No one was watching anyone sleep except me, being the worrisome, creepy roommate that I was.
Before I left, I poured a half circle of black salt around Seph's bed just i
n case the shadow-walker came in uninvited too. With a skin-walker and sleepwalker in here as well, it would be like a nightmare walking party.
"Be right back," I whispered and gently squeezed Seph's foot tenting her blanket.
Then I stepped out into the pitch-black hallway, and with a deep breath, started toward the room of a murdered girl with too many secrets to fit in her diary.
Chapter Nine
Outside Vickie's second bedroom, the one she actually slept in, I paused. The last time I'd been in here, the school had been bustling with life and movement. Now, long after the dark hour, while the school held still and silent and very dark, it felt different. Less of a good idea. I could do this another time and bring Seph with me. Or...someone else. But too much curiosity burned underneath my skin. This was all connected to Leo and the stone somehow. I knew it; I just needed to know how, and I wouldn't stop until I had the answers.
I opened the door and stepped inside. The faint smell of lemons brushed my nose again like a hint, like a reminder. Maybe she’d written something on the walls in lemon juice like the inside cover of her diary. After closing the door behind me, I swept my light around the room—and found all sorts of things only visible with direct magic light. A large, complicated symbol had been drawn in the center of her floor with Latin phrases and runes. I didn’t recognize it from Symbology, but that didn’t mean anything. There were thousands of symbols I didn’t know.
Against the wall, there were worn places on the floor where the desk legs had once been. The desk had been moved, maybe an inch or so. I grasped its edge and moved it to the side, and there on the wall was a message written in lemon juice:
ME KEEPS COMING. TELL MY PARENTS I
She'd never finished. Her message just ended, with the I swooping a little at the bottom as if she'd been startled by something.
ME. As in a skin-walker that looked like Vickie? Or were those initials? ME... Marjorie Effman, the dead, dark professor buried in the creepy little graveyard? But if she “kept coming,” then obviously she was no longer dead.
But that wasn't all. To the left of the ME part of her message, there was a bell hanging from a tiny nail in the wall. A bell eerily similar to the one missing from the graveyard. Vickie had it. But why? Had it followed her up the steps outside like the one I’d had?
Necromancer Unleashed: Book 2 Page 8
