Grave Digger Academy

by c a king

  “Remind me to thank your family,” Makayla said, pushing one foot down on the spade.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Makayla winced at the elevated shrieks coming from the headmistress’s lips. It wasn’t the words she was saying—a good talking to was deserved. It was the tone that was cringe-worthy.

  “Explain yourself,” Headmistress Meet demanded.

  “I-I,” Makayla began, halting at the sign of a hand held palm first in her face.

  “Do you have any idea how much trouble you have caused?” the headmistress continued. “I sent a message to the Crones. They are on their way here. What am I supposed to tell them?”

  “I-I.” The hand appeared again, leaving her with an audible sigh instead of words. Not one person had listened to her since returning to the academy.

  “I don’t know how you managed to get a hold of your own grave digger shovel,” the headmistress said, pacing. At this point she was talking to herself more than anyone else. “Or how you managed to figure out on your own how to use it.” Her arms lifted high then fell heavily back down, slamming against her sides. “All for a bet.”

  “It wasn’t for a bet,” Makayla blurted out while her headmistress was taking a breath. “I needed to get something from town.”

  Mary Meet spun around to meet her student face first. “And what would that be? What could a first-year student need that is so important they would risk being expelled and a possible criminal record?”

  Makayla gulped back the lump trying to form in her throat. She’d never considered what she was doing to be of a criminal nature. “A book,” she muttered, clearing her throat right after. “A book from the library.”

  “The one you and I discussed earlier this year I suppose?” Mary Meet questioned, shaking her head.

  “Yes,” Makayla admitted.

  “Then it is worse than I thought.” The headmistress slid into her seat, staring off into the distance. “I advised you not to go looking for necromancers or their magic. Even literature on the subject has been banned. I had hope you understood...”

  “I did!” Makayla exclaimed. “It’s not what you think. Please let me explain.”

  “It will do you little good to tell me,” the headmistress stated. “The Crones are on their way. There will be a full investigation. If you are found to be guilty of dabbling in the art of necromancy, they will not hear your excuses.”

  “I wasn’t,” Makayla shrieked. “I was trying to stop it. Boris was there. Surely you can ask him.”

  “The word of a bat won’t appease the Crones,” Mary Meet replied, adding a huff on the end of her words, strong enough to move a few strands of hair from her normally perfect do. She leaned back. “Tell me, if not you, then who?”

  “Professor Woolly,” Makayla blurted out.

  “Professor Woolly,” the headmistress repeated. “You expect me to believe a loyal member of the staff for a number of years just up and decided to throw his career away? That’s absurd.”

  “It’s true,” Makayla argued. “I’m not making this up. He was in the cemetery waiting for me. Frankie was there, too. Ask her.”

  “Except Frankie was helping a second-year professor for extra credit,” the headmistress snapped. “I almost believed your friends’ stories, but then the other missing students all showed up. All three were together.”

  “Three?” Makayla questioned. “Who else was with them?”

  “Not that it matters, but Leo and that other boy.” The headmistress snapped her fingers. “What’s his name? I can never seem to remember it.”

  “They are lying!” Makayla shrieked.

  “To what end?” The headmistress stood, glaring down at her over silver brimmed glasses. “Why would everyone conspire against you?”

  “For this,” Makayla barked, slamming the red rock down on the desk. “That’s what Woolly was after. That’s what all the fuss is about.”

  “Where did you get that?” the headmistress gasped.

  “From a dead man in the cemetery,” Makayla explained. “After I refused the professor’s offer to join him, he raised a corpse to take care of me. Boris saved me.”

  “I see,” the headmistress muttered, eyes glued to the stone turning and twisting in her hand. “Do you know what this is?”

  “I can guess,” Makayla answered. “It’s one of Ageis’ stones. It is meant to bring him back from the dead.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Woolly,” Makayla admitted. “And I’ve been seeing a shadow figure since I first arrived. I think it’s him... Ageis.”

  “You refused the offer?” the headmistress questioned, voice raising toward the end of her words.

  “Yes,” Makayla replied. “Are you surprised?”

  “Of course not,” The headmistress said. “Why would I be surprised? You are a grave digger, after all.”

  “Am I?” Makayla asked. “Or was I placed here so you could keep an eye on me. Everyone expects me to become a necromancer, don’t they?”

  “You are being paranoid,” the headmistress scoffed.

  “I am a seventh born,” Makayla said. “Woolly told me those were the most adept to the art of death magic.”

  “He did, did he?” the headmistress said, one brow arched. “And what else did he tell you?”

  “That necromancy was in my blood,” Makayla continued. “He claimed my great-grandmother was one of the best. Doesn’t that mean I am destined to be like her... like them?”

  “What do you think?” the headmistress asked.

  “No,” Makayla replied. “I am my own person. Destiny is in my hands. At least it was. I just gave it to you.” She nodded at the rock. “If I was leaning toward the path of the dead, I would have hidden that away somewhere and never mentioned it.”

  “Indeed,” Mary Meet agreed, lips curling up in the corners. “You have proven you belong here.”

  “I would still prefer to be transferred someplace else,” Makayla requested.

  “That decision is out of my hands,” Mary Meet admitted. “I’m afraid you will be stuck with us for quite sometime yet.”

  “Because of who I am?” Makayla snapped.

  “Because of what you are capable of,” the headmistress corrected. “I don’t think you realize the magnitude of your gifts yet.”

  “What about the others?” Makayla asked. “You must know they are lying.”

  The headmistress sighed. “That brings up two problems. First, if I subject them to questioning before the Crones, their combined statements against you hurts your position. Right now, with Professor Woolly missing, they won’t take action. I don’t want to give them any additional ammunition.”

  “They would see the truth,” Makayla argued. “They are the Crones, after all. Aren’t they all seeing... all knowing?”

  “The problem with the truth is it comes in many shades,” Mary Meet explained. “That brings us to our second issue: we don’t know the reasons behind your classmates’ choices.”

  “You don’t think they are involved in necromancy?” Makayla asked.

  “Perhaps,” the headmistress admitted. “Or perhaps not. What is true to them may not be the same as you or I see things. For the moment, I think it best if we let the Crones investigate Woolly and Woolly alone.”

  Makayla turned from the open door. “What about the old academy? I saw some lights flickering inside. I think someone is staying there.”

  The headmistress’s eyes narrowed. “Are you positive you saw lights? It wasn’t a reflection, or your mind playing tricks?”

  “I’m sure,” Makayla replied.

  “It’ll be looked into,” Mary Meet declared. “Off to your room. I’d prefer not to let anyone interview you for the moment.” She turned, strolling to the window. “Oh, and try to stay out of trouble. There is bound to be some tension with your classmates. One thing we can all agree on is someone is lying. Until we can prove who, things may be awkward.”

  Awkward was an understatement. Mak
ayla pulled the door closed behind her. There were a million questions running through her head, and she had every intention of interrogating each of the other students the first chance she got.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Mary Meet was slicker than Makayla had given her credit for. It had been weeks since the incident and she hadn’t seen hide nor hair from any of the others involved. Their classes had been reorganized and sleeping arrangements changed. If the headmistress thought everything was going to blow over, she was wrong—dead wrong. Questions were multiplying her head by the second.

  Ever since that day the faculty had been watching every student with the same obscene level of protectiveness as a new mother over her babe. Chances to break free from their preordained schedules were few and far between, and even those were short-lived.

  The end of term was coming fast and bringing with it the last chance she might have to find out what really happened that night. Trust was hard to give freely, but being without friends was twice as difficult. There was no possible way things could be left as they were for an entire season, or longer. Someone had to make a move.

  An argument between two girls in the hallway marked her chance. Makayla ducked into a bathroom, pulling her feet up in the stall so it appeared to be empty. Then it was a matter of waiting. One of the others must have had spare time for the next hour. Mathematically it was the only way possible to keep them all apart. The only task left was to figure out which of her classmates it was and where they went, before being apprehended.

  If one wanted to appear innocent, being studious and academically inclined was the route to go. The library was a long shot, but a place to start, especially since typically no one bothered to oversee those willing to put their education ahead of everything else.

  Whoever invented expectations did so knowing full well they were giving false hope. Makayla walked through the door. In her head, Leo would be sitting at one of the tables, blowing dust off of the book he was about to read. He’d have a solid explanation, which most likely included not wanting to lose his chance to transfer to a different school. After that, they’d figure the rest out together.

  A smile tried to twitch its way on to her face. Its beginnings were halted by the sight of an empty room. Makayla stood at the door glancing around. Disappointment weighted down her lips. Her effort had been for naught. The tables all sat empty, each as lonely as she was.

  She slid into a chair, wondering which direction was next. A book hit the floor. The smacking of bubble gum came next.

  “Trying to wake the dead by tossing a book on the floor?” Makayla called out.

  Frankie peeked around the corner of one of the shelves. “What are you doing here?” she asked, allowing her body to catch up to her head.

  “Same as you, I expect,” Makayla replied, nodding at the book in her classmate’s hands. “Looking for answers.”

  The gum in Frankie’s mouth churned faster. “You are wasting your time in here. You couldn’t find any useful answers in this library. In case you haven’t heard, they’ve banned all the good books.”

  “Let’s cut to the chase,” Makayla snapped. “Why did you lie?”

  “Did I?” Frankie smirked. “If I did, I suppose I have my reasons.”

  “You left me to deal with Woolly alone,” Makayla complained. “I could have died. Aren’t you even the teeniest bit sorry?” Her brows arched.

  “You seem to have come through your ordeal in good enough condition,” Frankie replied. “One might even question if you were ever really in any danger.”

  “Is that all you have to say?” Makayla shrieked.

  “I have my own problems to deal with,” Frankie snapped back, swallowing her gum in the process. “I’m not about to get mixed up in your mess too. Understand? I have no intentions of being expelled or caught by a mad necromancer.”

  “You knew,” Makayla mumbled.

  “If the roles were reversed, you would have done the same,” Frankie argued, adding a new stick of gum toward rebuilding her wad.

  “No!” Makayla exclaimed. “I never would have left someone to their own devices to save my own hide.”

  “You know nothing about me,” Frankie cried out. “Don’t pretend you do. I’m not here to make friends or play detective.”

  “Then why are you here?” Makayla barked. “Why did you transfer to an academy no one else wants to come near?”

  “Like I said,” Frankie replied, shoving a new stick of gum in her mouth. “I have my reasons, none of which involve you.” She headed to the door, pigtails swinging. “You better get out of here before someone finds you. Oh, wait...” She turned back... “I forgot you have the headmistress in your back pocket. How else could you have escaped being expelled for breaking almost all the rules?”

  Makayla’s head hit the table with a thud. She wanted to believe Frankie, but the girl was making it hard. Other than being in league with Woolly, what other reasons could there be? She banged her head two more times.

  “Hopefully that jogged your memory about where you are supposed to be right now,” Tallen said. “I’ve had to put the whole class on hold to come search for you. This will have to go on your report.”

  “Whatever,” Makayla mumbled, sliding out from her place at the table.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Assemblies were the biggest waste of time in any academic setting. There wasn’t a student in attendance who had any inclination of listening to what was being said. The faculty might as well have printed the information out and sent it home with them; at least that way someone would have read it.

  Makayla took the long route to the main hall—deep thoughts her only companion for the stroll. The hallways were already empty. By morning every last student would be gone for another year.

  A tug on her arm sent her stumbling backward, coming to an abrupt stop inside the broom closet. She turned to face her captor. “Leo? What are you doing in here?”

  One hand ran through his thick blond hair. “I wanted to talk to you before I left,” he explained. “We haven’t had a chance since...” His words faded.

  “Since I was almost killed by a necromancer,” Makayla blurted out.

  “Yeah, that,” Leo agreed, eyes shifting from side to side. “I should have followed you. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Makayla said. “What I don’t get is why you pretended to be earning an extra credit. You gave Frankie and friends an alibi and made me look like a liar.”

  “I never meant for that to happen,” Leo replied. “After you disappeared, I got cold feet. I figured you’d make it to town and get caught. If I joined in...”

  “You’d lose your chance to be placed in a different school,” Makayla said. “I get it. Did anything else happen?”

  Leo shook his head. “I pretended to try to follow you,” Leo admitted. “When Cali and Thomas headed in for help, I covered my tracks.”

  “You’re the one who erased the footprints,” Makayla said, snorting a chuckle. “That’s why no one could find any evidence of us being there.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t think about that,” Leo admitted. “I couldn’t leave proof I had been involved. After that I ducked into the forest. I stumbled upon the extra credit class by accident. I didn’t even notice Frankie until we were back inside. Then I figured she chickened out too. Everyone was so busy at the time; they all assumed I’d been there from the start. It was perfect.”

  “For you,” Makayla snapped. “I guess this is goodbye.”

  “I guess it is,” Leo agreed, the teeniest glimmer of remorse shining through in his eyes. “I’m leaving right after the assembly.”

  “Good luck... wherever you end up next year,” Makayla said, taking the first step outside the closet. Her hands plunged into her sweater pockets, shoulders shrugged around her neck.

  At least part of the mystery had been solved. She sighed. They were answers, even if they weren’t exactly what she wanted to hear. She paused for a moment, glancing
back at the small cupboard. Leo was already gone; the door left slightly ajar. Just as he’d done that day, he was moving on and leaving her to fend for herself. Friendship wasn’t living up to its hype.

  “Watch it,” the boy she first met on the path into the school said. “A little attention goes a long way.”

  “Sorry,” Makayla replied. “I don’t think we were ever introduced. I never caught your name.” There was a sadness she could relate to in his almond-shaped eyes—one that she didn’t think ever left.

  A grin formed in the corners of his lips. “You just don’t remember. I get that a lot. There’s no sense repeating it now. It is the last few days. I doubt you’ll know it by tomorrow anyway.”

  “Try me,” Makayla suggested. “You never know, I might surprise you.”

  “Okay,” he said, leaning into her ear. “It’s Griffin and you are Makayla.”

  “Well, Griffin,” Makayla started. “You were at the grave digger shovels with Frankie. Mind if I ask you a few questions?”

  “Um,” Griffin grimaced. “Looks like we are out of time.” He pointed to a second-year teacher ushering them into the main hall, directing where to sit. Gone were the tables, leaving only rows of chairs filled by students, and their friends, and family. Graduation was the first order of business.

  She turned to ask a question and Griffin was gone, lost among a sea of heads. Her answers would have to wait until after the assembly let out. At least now she knew his name.

  Mary Meet stood at the front, wearing a smile that hid any signs of the trouble they’d faced over the past year. The crowd ate up her performance, begging for more. One by one the eldest students were called up to the podium, accepting their diplomas and trinkets of appreciation from their headmistress.

  With dim lights and heads blocking her view, there was no way to pick out the few she was actually searching for. Save for receiving an unnerving glare from Frankie as she passed by on the way to her own seat, she recognized no one.