by Cheree Alsop
“No!” I shouted.
The demon’s head jerked up. It’s flaming green eyes narrowed and its lips pulled back in a bloody black snarl. The creature stood about half my height, but its claw-tipped arms and legs were longer than its body, making it look like some sort of weird spidery monster from a place worse than my nightmares. The creature’s skin writhed as if there were maggots underneath, and the snarl revealed rows of teeth in a mouth wider than should have been possible.
Without giving myself a chance to second-guess my actions, I barreled into the demon, knocking it away from the student. It skittered back to its feet with a supernatural speed and leaped at Dara as she tried to pull the girl to safety. My sneakers skidded on the marble floor when I pushed back up. I threw myself at the creature and tackled it before it could reach them. Pinning it to the ground by its neck, I found myself staring into the demon’s ire-filled gaze.
Claws scrabbled at my arms, making deep slices down them, but I refused to let go and pressed down further in the hopes that I could cut off its ability to breathe. I wished with all my heart that I could phase into a wolf and tear its throat out the way it had been about to do to the student.
Green froth bubbled from the demon’s mouth. It kicked out with its clawed hind feet. I jerked to the side to avoid them, letting up the pressure. The froth burst into green flame. It raced up my arms, burning as it went. I stared at my hands beneath the dancing fire.
“It’s not real,” I said, trying to convince myself that the boiling skin and melting flesh wasn’t really happening.
The pain increased as it burned down to my bones. I heard the creature gurgle, fighting to get free, but I kept my burning hands locked around its neck. Its claws cut deeper and I felt my blood mixing with the flames.
“Hold on!” someone yelled from the crowd of terrified students who surrounded us.
I wasn’t sure how long I could keep it up. The pain had far surpassed the agony from Mercer’s imitation candle. Tears streamed down my cheeks. I was sure even the skin of my face was melting from the heat of the flames beneath me.
The tiny sylph dragon stirred. It looked up at me and then down at the demon as if unbothered by the green fire that rolled over it. The dragon uncurled and let out a little hiss. A tiny blue misty flame came from its mouth. Instead of striking the demon, the blue mint-scented mist settled onto my left hand. There was immediate relief from the flame and my grip tightened.
I tried to ignore the agony I felt from my right hand. The demon fire was breaking through my careful control. I could feel my palm truly beginning to melt beneath the flames. The more skin was damaged, the more control I lost. I gritted my teeth, my arms shook, and even with the tiny dragon’s help, I knew I was losing.
A hand touched my shoulder. The pain from the flames lessened to the point of being bearable.
“Just a little longer,” Dara said from behind me in a tight voice.
The demon writhed and fought to break free. Its green fire intensified. My burning hold slipped. I could feel the creature inching from my grip. If it got free, nobody would be safe. I tried to hold on, but the agony, even with Dara’s help, was too much. I knew in the back of my mind that if I lost focus, I would indeed lose my hands. I couldn’t hold on any longer.
Just as the demon wriggled from my grasp, a banister railing broken into a thick spear was shoved clear through the demon’s chest and into the marble floor, pinning it down. I glanced up to see Vicken holding onto the end of the stake to keep the demon from breaking free. An unnatural, blood-curdling shriek sounded from the creature as Lorne pulled both Dara and me backwards. The green flames erupted along the demon’s body.
“Lyris! Brack!” Alden shouted from the stairs.
Brack knelt in front of me. Lyris followed his actions on the opposite side of the demon. As one, they began to chant, their voices low and steady despite the frantic writhing of the demon before them. A shimmering golden ball began to take shape around the demon. After making certain the creature was truly pinned to the ground, Vicken let go of the stake and stumbled back. The two students chanted louder. The words were unfamiliar and foreign, yet they said them in unison without hesitation. The outline of the ball solidified, becoming a translucent shield the flames couldn’t breach.
Black blood spewed from the demon’s mouth and caught flame. It hit the shield and bounced back. The demon shrieked again. This time, a guttural word came out of its throat. It spat the cry, “Chutka!” as it clawed at the wood through its chest, but to no avail. To my relief, its eyes finally rolled back and it slumped against the stake. It gave one last shudder, then the flames vanished.
Stunned silence filled the corridor.
“You can let go,” Professor Briggs said.
I glanced up wearily to see all of Haunted High’s professors standing in a circle in front of the mass of terrified students, shielding them in case the demon broke free.
Brack and Lyris stopped chanting. Both students slumped with exhaustion. The golden shield dissipated to leave the ashy black mass of the demon in the middle of the floor.
“Mercer, take care of it,” Headmistress Wrengold said with disgust in her voice from the edge of the circle. “Professor Rexus, please carry Ms. Fig to the infirmary and tell Dr. Six to report to me as soon as he is able. The rest of you, to my office.”
The huge, horned professor picked up the injured student with ease and carried her gently up the stairs. I hoped that with her throat still intact, she would recover quickly from her wounds.
Lyris pulled strips of cloth from the pouch at her waist and bound the bleeding claw marks along my arms. The sharp scent of the oils on the bandages helped to clear my head.
“The burns on your hand are bad,” she said quietly.
I gave the demon’s still form a meaningful look. “It could have been worse.”
Dara helped me to my feet. As soon as I could stand, I distanced myself from her so that she wouldn’t have to feel my pain any longer. She gave me a questioning look, but appeared too tired to argue.
The little dragon, Sparrow, climbed up to my shoulder and sat perched like a little scaled parrot as I followed the rest of the group. Students and professors alike moved aside so we could pass. I couldn’t decide if it was out of fear or respect. I hoped it was the latter.
The Headmistress led us down a side hallway from the corridor and into a room I hadn’t been to yet. Her office was cheerily lit by electric golden sconces and warm lamplight. Thick rugs covered the floor while a rich mahogany desk with organized piles of papers on top took up the far end of the room. A richly upholstered couch and two overstuffed chairs occupied the opposite end.
“Make yourselves comfortable,” the Headmistress told us. “You deserve it.” She crossed to the desk and pressed a button on her phone.
“Yes, Headmistress?” Mrs. Hassleton’s voice asked immediately.
“Bamenda, please bring some more chairs to my office,” Headmistress Wrengold said.
“Right away, Headmistress,” the woman replied.
A moment later, Mrs. Hassleton appeared with several folding chairs. Lorne, Jean, and Brack took these. The rest of us fell, more than sat, on the couch, leaving the Headmistress and Professor Briggs to take the armchairs.
My right hand throbbed. I forced myself to glance at it and found that the palm had indeed been burned. Bubbled skin occupied the edges while black marred the center. I couldn’t tell how deep it went without closer examination; I didn’t think my stomach would hold up to such scrutiny given all that had happened. I closed my hand as far as I was able and rested it on my knee.
I hadn’t realized I had dozed off until the Headmistress spoke.
“You’ve trained them well in such a short period of time.”
Professor Briggs shook his head. “They did it themselves. Mercer and I merely gave direction.”
The Headmistress appeared pleased at this. She nodded at me. “And a sylph dragon? That was a surprise.”
Worry that she would take Sparrow from me or that Professor Seedly would get in trouble made me choose my words carefully. “If it wasn’t for Sparrow, I would have died. Her flames helped me stand the pain until Dara could reach me. But Sparrow needs me. She’s only just hatched.”
The Headmistress nodded. “I am glad you have her. A sylph is a very loyal companion.”
I was relieved when she turned her attention to Vicken. “Normally I wouldn’t condone the destruction of school property, but your stake made from our balustrade appeared very effective. That was good thinking.”
“Thank you, Headmistress.” Vicken glanced at me and then away. “I thought at first it was the werewolf who was attacking students.”
Everyone looked at me. The thought that the banister stake could have just as easily gone through my chest was a sobering one. I shouldn’t have been hurt that the vampire would have killed me without hesitation, but the truth was there in his face before he looked away. I had been through too much to deal with those emotions at that moment. Instead, I cleared my throat and went for humor. “I’m thinking about going vegetarian,” I said.
A chuckle sounded from Professor Briggs. I felt Dara looking at me and glanced at her with the realization that our shoulders were touching as we sat next to each other. I followed her gaze to my hand. The pain began to ease.
I shook my head. “Don’t,” I whispered.
She nodded and the pain returned. I smiled to soften what I said. She gave me a small smile in return.
I turned my attention to the conversation before I had a chance to regret my decision. The burning really hurt. It felt as though the slight easing made dealing with the full pain again more unbearable. But I refused to let Dara carry pain she didn’t deserve, especially after all she had been through.
“If we don’t close down this school, we are at risk for further attacks,” the Headmistress was saying.
“You can’t close the school,” Vicken argued. “We haven’t found my sister. The demons might have her!”
I met Briggs’ questioning gaze and knew he wondered if I had told the vampire what I saw from the two-headed cat. I gave a minute shake of my head. The professor answered in kind.
“And we have nowhere else to go,” Lyris was saying. “I can’t return home until I can pass the Wiccan Trials. My family won’t have any use for me before then.”
“Yeah,” Brack said. “Me, too. No Trials, no job. That’s what my father says.”
“Throwing mythical students out on the street without any preparation for the world outside our walls won’t do anyone any good,” Professor Briggs took up.
“But according to Mr. Ruvine’s parents, the honorable Don and Donessa Ruvine, this demon breach isn’t at the Academy alone,” Headmistress Wrengold said.
I glanced at Vicken; he merely glared at the floor at the mention of his parents.
Mistress Wrengold continued with, “There are signs of such occurrences all across the nation, and from what I’ve heard from Britain, they’re dealing with it overseas as well.”
“So let’s give them students ready to deal with such problems instead of casting them out unprepared,” Briggs argued.
She shook her head. “We aren’t prepared to be held liable for injuries or even death at the hands of—”
I cut her off. “Use monsters to fight monsters.”
The Headmistress shook her head. “Mr. Briscoe, we don’t use the term monster to—”
I cut her off again. I wasn’t sure if it was the pain in my hand, my exhaustion, or the thought of returning home that made me bold, but I said, “We are monsters, Headmistress. We shouldn’t be afraid of the term. Before I phased, I had no idea that anyone like us existed, but the stories do, and in them we are most definitely monsters.” She opened her mouth to speak, but I continued with, “So let us learn to be monsters who can contribute to society in a way that protects humans from the greater threat out there. Why else does this Academy exist?”
The Headmistress appeared to be taken back. “Why to provide integral education for mythical students….”
“And to help us find a valuable place in society,” Dara finished. “How much more valuable would we be if we could defend those who are unable to defend themselves?
I gave her a grateful look. She smiled back.
The Headmistress looked uncertain.
“Closing the Academy is the worst thing we could do right now,” Professor Briggs said. “The students need it.” He glanced at us and then concluded in a quieter voice, “I need it.”
“But you heard what the demon said,” the Headmistress reminded him.
“We’ll talk about that later,” he replied. “Mercer and I will take precautions, but a student is missing and another is hurt. We need to give our students a reason to believe we can protect them, and if not,” he met my gaze, “We need to teach them how to protect themselves.”
I nodded, my chest tight.
The Headmistress finally nodded. “Very well. I won’t close the Remus Academy for Integral Education for now.” She stressed the last words. “Go reassure the students and encourage them to either write or call their families to talk about what happened. I need a full report of the response. It might be better to arrange a family day so that we can address all concerns in person.”
“I agree,” Professor Briggs said. He stood with a grunt of pain.
“The rest of you, get some sleep,” the Headmistress encouraged with a kind smile at each of us in turn. “You did very well. You should be proud of yourselves. I will be writing your parents to inform them of your bravery in this matter.”
The other students looked pleased by her words, all except for Dara; she appeared as though she couldn’t care less who they told. But I, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure my family was ready to hear about demons, witches, vampires, and the likes.
“Uh, Headmistress?” I asked, standing with the rest of my team. “Can you give me the letter instead? I would, um, like to give it to them myself.”
She lowered her head in a stately nod. “Very well, Mr. Briscoe. Now have Dr. Six look at your hand and then get some rest. You look like you’re about to fall over.”
“Yes, Headmistress,” I replied.
We left in a group, but Professor Briggs stayed behind. I glanced back to see his head bowed as he spoke quietly to the Headmistress. I heard him say the word ‘Chutka’. Headmistress Wrengold shook her head. The door closed, shutting us out.
We gathered in the now-empty corridor. The faint sulphur smell of the demon still lingered, but any other evidence that it had been there had been erased. I wondered wearily how Mercer had repaired the marble so quickly. Whether the flame was real or not, Vicken’s impromptu stake had definitely cracked the floor.
Everyone stood around as if reluctant to retreat to their own rooms.
“I can’t believe you did that,” Vicken said.
I glanced up to find him watching me.
“Did what?” I asked.
“You tackled that demon. It was fearless,” he replied.
I shook my head. “I was plenty afraid, I’m just too stubborn to let it get the best of me, I guess.”
Vicken studied me, his eyes searching as if there was something he couldn’t understand. “You saved Claria’s life. She would have died if you didn’t act so quickly. Why did you do that without waiting for us?”
The memory of Sebastian’s still form floating in the water surfaced in my mind. I saw it from a distant perspective, my hands pounding on the glass beneath the water as I desperately fought to save his life. I wouldn’t give up until even the air had left my lungs, but it hadn’t made a difference.
I lowered my gaze to the floor, but still saw the ice floes floating in the water. “Someone died because of me.”
A glance at Vicken’s face said Lorne had told him about the memory I had accidentally shared.
“I guess I felt I could make up for it, at least a little bit.” I looked away from
his too-knowing gaze. “But I know it doesn’t work that way.”
Silence filled the corridor and then Vicken set a hand on my shoulder. It was the first time he had touched me without trying to punch my face in. “It did for Claria,” he said. “And if you help me find Amryn, it will for her, too.”
I nodded, touched by his words. “I will do everything I can to help you find her.”
He smiled back. “I know you will.”
“We all will,” Dara said.
“Because we’re a team,” Brack concluded with a big grin.
He held out a huge hand. Lyris set hers on top. Alden followed with a grin of his own. Jean and Lorne added to the stack, with Dara behind.
Vicken glanced at me and shook his head. “This is cheesy.”
“I know,” I replied. I set my good hand on Dara’s.
Vicken sighed and put his pale hand on top.
“To the protectors of Haunted High,” I said.
Light lit Alden’s gaze; answering smiles showed on the others’ faces. “To the protectors of Haunted High,” they repeated. Even Vicken said the words.
He dropped his hand before the words had stopped echoing in the corridor. “I can’t believe I just did that.”
“Why?” I asked. “Afraid to be a part of the misfits?”
“Just because I’m still on your little team doesn’t mean we’re friends,” Vicken said, his tone light to soften his words.
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, well, that’s the thing about a team. You pick on one of us….”
Several of them moved behind me and Bracken said in his deep voice, “You pick on all of us, Mr. Fangs.”
I looked at Brack with a laugh. “I think Mr. Fangs is a bit over the top.”
“Really?” Brack asked. “I thought it sounded mobsterish.”
“Oh, now we’re a mob instead of a team?” Vicken joked. “I could get used to that.”
“Yes, Mr. Fangs,” I replied.
He threw a mocking punch at me. Before his hand could connect, Sparrow let out a little blue flame from where she sat on my shoulder. The mist disappeared in a puff of mint.
Vicken stopped short. “Oh, so now you’re in on it?” he questioned the small dragon.
