He had a point. There were a lot of moving parts to what the witnesses might have seen at the trials, depending on where they had been looking.
"I think the explanation of my shift is rather self-explanatory," Clayton stated. "It's been suppressed for my entire time here at Hazeldene. I'm sure the records have details of the condition. And now, it's been revealed."
Prof's pen moved quickly across his white lined pages.
"Yes," He murmured. "There is record of such."
"And there's been no question of my struggles with my element," I interjected. "I've finally gained some control over my fire and was able to demonstrate that today. What I've discovered is that it takes the synergy of my coven to bring it to its best use."
"Indeed." His pen flew across his notebook. "I suppose the question for the evening then is, what of the banshee?"
I glanced at Clayton wondering how much we should share. There were so many unknowns, even to us, I didn't know yet if it should all be exposed. Clayton's lips pressed together proving his uncertainty as well.
So, I took a deep breath and skirted the subject as best as possible.
"The banshee started her hunt in my dreams. Then slowly, over time, her presence crossed over into wakefulness." I paused to see his reaction.
"And Josie and Miss Rosco?" he pressed.
"Yes. They seem to have been involved. I'm not sure to what level."
He nodded, taking notes.
"I've studied the time of Hazeldene's founding, and there's mention of Miss Rosco in the manuscripts down in the archives." He stopped suddenly and cleared his throat. "I'll need to review her connection to the academy from those early days."
My eyes shot to Clayton's for a brief moment.
Prof continued, "And what of Hattie's arrival? Is she responsible for awakening these changes in you?"
I pulled back from him with knotted eyebrows. "What does Hattie have to do with any of this?"
He shook his head dismissively. "Nothing. Nothing. I'm just gathering as much information as possible. You know, tying together the puzzle pieces."
I continued to stare at him in confusion.
His question about Hattie was so specific and direct. It shot warning through every nerve.
Clayton reached for my arm and prepared to stand.
"I think we're good for now," he said. "Can we take a pause and start again tomorrow?"
"Of course." Pro Finneas shifted in his seat, clearly wishing he could get more out of us.
It was just too soon though. Clayton and I hadn't even had proper time to process everything, let alone speak unofficially to one of the esteemed faculty about it.
I stood with Clayton and we moved to go inside.
"Well, thank you for your time," Prof said. "I look forward to reconvening tomorrow."
With a nod, Clayton led me inside and closed the door behind us.
We shot upstairs as fast as possible before being detected by anyone else. With swift moves, we landed back in Clayton's room and locked the door.
Panting and pacing, we took a second to gather ourselves, and then the words poured out.
"Did you hear..." I coughed.
"What he said...?" Clayton finished.
We gaped at each other. And then at the same time repeated Prof Finneas' slip.
"Down in the archives."
Once they had been spoken, those were the only words I actually heard from Professor Finneas. The rest of them became a blur.
Down in the archives.
He'd given a vital clue to where the historical archives were hidden.
"The catacombs are in the basement," Clayton stated. "No one's been down there for years. I think it's sealed off."
"Welp, sounds like Prof has been down there on more than one occasion." My eyes lit up. "I can't think of any other interpretation for his slip up."
We stared at each other as our mind's wheels turned.
We had to find a way down to the basement, and find the student records of Hazeldene House.
"We could get in a lot of trouble," Clayton whispered, biting his thumbnail. "Those documents are confidential."
I nodded. "Yup. But only if we look at other people's stuff. We have a right to see our own."
"Hmph. That's your interpretation, anyway." He pursed his lips together in thought. "I actually wouldn't mind reviewing my own file," he murmured with a shrug. "I mean, it's mine, right?"
It didn't take long for him to feel the need to review what was his.
"I agree. Whatever they have on me, I want to know. It's high time I figured out something about my past. Anything."
"It's agreed then," he said. "No time to waste. When are we doing this?"
I pulled back with a smirk. "Are you serious right now? I figured it would be me leading this heist."
My shock at his intrigue in going rogue was obvious.
"Nah, you don't get to have all the fun around here. I've got nothing to lose, nothing to hide anymore. I'm ready." He raised his hands out to his sides.
And then we both jumped from the shocking sound of a knock on his door.
"Shaye, are you in there?" Piper's voice called through.
Clayton shot over and opened the door for her.
She bombed inside, eyes wide.
"Hattie needs you," she blurted.
Clayton froze at attention.
"No," Piper added. "She needs Shaye." And her gaze found me at the far side of the room.
My breath sucked in as I waited to hear what was going on.
"She's curled into a ball in her room, basically catatonic." Piper darted over to me.
Without wasting a second, I headed toward the door.
Clayton followed us as we bounded down the stairs to the student floor. The hall was filled with pajamas and toothbrushes, as students made their ways between the bathroom and their bedrooms. The ice cream social had ended and apparently bedtime was happening. I'd lost track completely.
As we hurried into Hattie's room, Noah and Asher sat up from their positions of guard.
"She hasn't moved," Noah said.
"She just keeps mumbling," Asher added. "Something about not wanting to go. Or maybe wanting to go but not knowing how. Or going but staying. I don't know." His confused explanation was all over the place, exposing his shot nerves.
"Like she's dreaming?" I asked, as I hurried over to her.
"Kinda, but not." Asher shook his head in frustration.
I smiled at him. "It's okay. We'll figure it out. Thanks for watching over her." I sat on the edge of the bed next to her. "Go on, Asher. You can get ready for bed. We'll take care of her now."
His shoulders relaxed and he headed out to the bustle of the other students.
Then I looked at the others with a serious gaze.
"What do you think is wrong with her?" I asked.
"No clue," Noah said. "Everything seemed normal at the social, but then she said she had a strange feeling. Like something was about to be exposed, or discovered. Like, new information was going to be revealed. Something like that."
I looked to Piper for her interpretation.
"It was like a panic attack, in a way," she said. "She got very agitated and started looking around as if she were being watched."
I shook my head. It sounded so strange, but at the same time, eerily familiar. I remembered feeling that way when I'd first arrived at Hazeldene—like I was being monitored in a way.
Clayton stepped closer to me.
"Something being exposed or discovered," he repeated. "We were just talking about searching for the archives." He glanced at Hattie. "And then this happened. Strange coincidence?" He shrugged.
No.
Nothing was a strange coincidence around here.
Hattie had clearly felt our plan as it formed between us. Her ability to feel other's emotions allowed her to read them like a book. It wasn't far-fetched to think she picked up on our new scheme.
And apparently, it had a profou
nd impact on her.
"I'll stay with her for the night," I said, placing my hand on her forehead.
She was clammy, but calm.
"Would you guys mind telling Graney Greta?" I added. "Just in case there's something we're missing."
"Greta knows," Piper said. "She's the one who told us to get her to bed."
I nodded and took a deep breath.
Kicking off my shoes, I swung myself onto the edge of the bed next to Hattie. There was nowhere else I'd rather be at that moment, but by her side. She needed me. I could tell.
"Sorry," I mouthed to Clayton.
He smiled with a nod. Moving toward the door, he looked back.
"See you in the morning," he said.
Piper and Noah followed him and with a click, the door closed behind them.
I closed my eyes, and allowed my muscles to fully relax for the first time in the longest day of my life.
So much had happened. So many layers.
But right now, Hattie was my focus.
Behind my closed lids, a vision of us sleeping next to each other flashed through my mind. It was different from the present moment. It was like our mattress was on the floor. And it was lumpy and itchy.
I sat straight up with wide eyes, scratching the backs of my arms and my legs from the irritation. My heart raced as I convinced myself it was a dream, but the itching—it was so real.
"Shaye, move over." Hattie pushed on me. "Move over, Shaye," she whined.
The morning sun flickered on my lids and I resisted opening my eyes. I'd slept so soundly, every muscle in my body felt like jelly. I didn't want it to end.
"Shayeeeee, move..." And then a huge gasp flew out of Hattie, opening my eyes with a start.
She shimmied across the bed and pressed against the wall as if attempting to get as far away from me as possible.
"What is it, Hattie? What's wrong?"
Her eyes shined with tears as she shook her head in denial.
"I, I think I was dreaming," she said, staring into my face. "You were younger in the dream. Sleeping next to me. We were on the floor." She swiped at one of her eyes to hide the tear that fell from it. "I didn't recognize you at first when I opened my eyes."
My unblinking eyes burned. Then with a shake of my head, I closed them for a moment.
"It's okay, Hattie. It was just a dream."
My lips pressed together, resisting my lie.
It was not just a dream. We had both had the same strange images and feelings.
"Do you have any idea what happened last night, Hattie? When you..." I struggled to find the right words for her episode, attempting to not upset her further.
She let out a heavy breath.
"I'm not sure. It started with a weird feeling. Like something was about to be discovered. Something that was meant to remain a secret."
I nodded, knowing now that she'd definitely had a connection to Clayton and my planning.
"I had been thinking about searching for the secret archives," I said. "To try to learn more about my past."
She sat at full attention.
"I knew it!" she blurted. "I knew you were thinking that!"
My air fell out of me.
"I don't know how I knew, but I did," she shot. "You can't go without me. I want to come too."
Running my fingers back through my hair, I thought about the option of her joining us. It seemed wrong, having her be a part of our unauthorized treasure hunt. She was an impressionable student who should be kept on the straight and narrow. The last thing I wanted to do was expose her to my roguish ways.
I cringed at my own thoughts.
What was I doing?
Of course she should come. It was so obvious she was a part of it all. And having her learn to follow her intuition, rather than the mundane rules of the masses, was how she would grow in her self-discovery. Some might call it rogue, but I called it courage.
The last issue, though, would be convincing Clayton that it was a good idea.
Chapter 16
Easier said than done.
Clayton's response to bringing Hattie with us to find the hidden archives was worse than expected.
"Are you insane?" he blasted. "If we're caught, you'll be stripped of your Marshall status immediately, followed closely by us both losing our mentorships. I mean, searching for the archives is one thing, but bringing a new recruit along is quite another."
He wasn't wrong.
But he also knew I was right.
Hattie was connected to everything that was happening somehow, and we needed to figure out how she fit into it all. If we were going to find out why I was cursed, not only by a locally-conjured banshee, but even more so by a past I knew nothing about, it would take all of us to figure it out.
"Then we just can't get caught," I said.
His lips pressed together in a thin line.
At least he was thinking about it.
Seriously.
"We'd have to go at night. When everyone's sleeping," he murmured.
I threw my arms around him and squeezed.
All he could do was shake his head, knowing we were taking another huge risk.
But it was a risk we were willing to take.
Especially since we knew it would help Hattie too. She was just as lost as I was, and if I could do anything about that, I would. I only wished someone had been there to help me like that when I'd first arrived.
I thought of Ms. Reed then.
She was always the one who had helped me.
Ms. Harrison too.
Without the two of them, I wouldn't have survived my entry into Hazeldene. Looking back on those days, I realized it was as if they had already known me when I arrived. They immediately took me under their wings like I was their responsibility. I owed them so much for that.
I owed them the rescue of Ms. Reed.
It was my ultimate calling.
I looked at Clayton. "Yes. The middle of the night would be best. Tonight?"
I wasn't about to waste any more time.
He heard the conviction in my voice and accepted it without a fight. His loyalty to our mission convinced me we had a shot. And now, we just had to wait out the rest of the day in anxious anticipation.
And then the clock crawled through each passing hour, taunting us with its power to slow time.
Our anticipation built through the dragging minutes to the point where we didn't know what to do with ourselves.
We'd planned out our approach fifty times, set our alarms, and chose the right clothing.
We were ready.
I'd decided to go to bed in Hattie's room at the end of the day. That way, I'd be able to wake her up at 2:00 am without a problem. Clayton would meet us in the darkness of the study, off from the kitchen.
From the moment Clayton and I said goodnight, my eyes remained wide open, watching the minutes tick by.
I had no idea what we might find.
Maybe nothing.
Maybe everything.
Finding the archives alone would be a discovery of a lifetime. And then finding what we were truly looking for would be a major bonus. And all of that, while remaining undetected would be the all-time-win.
It was a lot to hope for. But whatever the outcome, if I could just learn the slightest piece of information about who I was, then it would all be worth it.
Every possible scenario that I'd dreamed up over the past years passed through my racing mind. Each one seeming less likely than the previous.
One of my ideas was that of being an orphan, left at the gates of the academy, only to find I had unknown gifts. Another idea was that I was a runaway, escaping a life of abuse and had wiped my memory of all the pain. The best one was that I had become lost with amnesia and couldn't find my way home, knowing one day, I'd remember everything.
But, no matter how much I dreamed, none of them ever became real in any way.
I'd continued to stumble through each day not knowing anything about my origin.
Lost was the only way to describe it. And ending that feeling would change everything for me.
I glanced at the clock and sat up with a startle.
It was 2:05 am.
I'd lost track of time with my wandering thoughts.
I shook Hattie. "Psst. Hattie. Wake up."
She groaned and turned over.
"Hattie. It's time."
She rubbed her eyes and then pushed herself up.
Smacking her lips, she said, "Did I fall asleep?"
I chuckled. "Yup. It's time to go now."
We hurried into our black hoodies and sneakers and crept out the door. Tiptoeing down the creaking stairs, we flinched and froze at every sound. Finally finding the quietest route with our legs spread wide, we hurried down the steps, toward the study.
As we entered the dark shadows of the leather-scented room, I scanned the looming features of the grandfather clock and heavy rows of thick books on the shelves. The cavernous fireplace appeared like the open mouth of a dragon in the darkness, and I searched for Clayton without luck.
Hattie and I perused the dark room with our squinted eyes and caught movement at the far corner.
"Clayton," Hattie whispered.
He stepped out from the shadows.
"Thought you'd overslept," he murmured.
"No way," she chirped, hopping over to him.
He glanced at me with a nervous eye, and I shot him an equally anxious bare-toothed grin.
It was the moment of truth.
"Which way?" I asked.
He moved toward the rear exit, waving us to follow him.
"There's a locked door at the far side of the kitchen. You know that narrow stairwell back there?"
"Yeah." I'd slipped up that back stairway a million times to get to the second floor bedrooms.
"It's next to that," he said.
"I thought that was a broom closet," I huffed, barely remembering its existence.
"Everyone thinks that. Except for the few of us who've heard the detailed legend of the catacombs."
Hattie froze.
"What legend?" She shuddered.
I threw wide eyes at Clayton.
"Just a story that people are buried down there. In the basement." He tried to sound as chipper as possible.
"Like a graveyard?" Hattie slowed her pace.
"Sort of. I guess. Like a crypt." Clayton stumbled on his explanation.
Mystic Coven: Fire Festival (Supernatural Academy Graduates Book 1) Page 17
