Diabolical

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Diabolical Page 16

by Cynthia Leitich Smith


  After a moment, Nigel asks, “Could we banish her back to hell?”

  “We could try,” I say, “but incantations take time. She’s quick with that hankie.”

  “What if we trigger the spell the second Ulman appears for Alchemy and Incantations?” Evie puts in from next to Quince. “You know, surprise her.”

  I think it over. “It wouldn’t be easy. If we could get by the hellhounds . . . I remember smelling sweetgrass and sage in the storage area. But even if we succeeded, we’d still be trapped inside the school. Lucifer could toss Ulman right back up at us.”

  Vesper is the one who says what we’re all thinking. “All it would accomplish is pissing her off. And she’s such charming company already.”

  THE ALCHEMY & INCANTATIONS assignment on Monday morning involves making a firecracker sound. It requires whistling a jaunty tune while pouring sea salt over the carcass of a hairy-necked tiger beetle. Only Kieren, Nigel, and Lucy manage to pull it off.

  When the bald guy strolls in two minutes before Demonic History, I recognize him right away as an angel. It’s the way he holds his shoulders squared, like he misses his wings. He’s not an archangel. I know all of them. But there are many guardians.

  He’s wearing SP gray. The blazer with the Lucifer logo dresses up his uniform. If he’s still full status, I’d eat my halo. If I had a halo.

  “If it isn’t the man of my dreams!” Vesper launches herself into his arms. “Seth!”

  I wonder how literally she means that. Seth makes a show of French-kissing her, and I remember Lucy mentioning him. The school’s head recruiter. Some parent-alumni combo pulled in Nigel, Willa, and Bridget. Kieren, Quincie, and I came on our own. Andrew, who knows?

  But Lucy, Evelyn, and Vesper dealt personally with Seth. He lured them here. Or at least, in Vesper’s case, convinced her to honor her alumni parents’ wishes. Evelyn heard of the program through a friend of a friend of a friend, but it was Seth who talked to her — who chatted up all of them — on the phone.

  Over Vesper’s shoulder, Seth calls, “Evelyn, enjoying your second chance?” His gaze moves to Lucy. “Finding the answers you wanted?”

  I hate him. I’m about to say so when the digital clock flashes 10 A.M.

  “Please be seated,” Ulman begins. “It is time for class to commence.”

  Vesper giggles at whatever the traitor is whispering in her ear.

  The shifters, who can hear for themselves, look aghast.

  “It is time for class to commence,” Ulman says again.

  We all take our seats, except Vesper, who gently urges Seth into her chair first. Then she plants herself provocatively on his lap. “Aren’t you cozy?” she coos.

  I’m not shocked by Vesper’s swing in loyalty. I am disappointed.

  “Seth,” I begin. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Zachary.”

  “Mornin’, brother,” he replies. “How’re you liking your education?”

  “Silence,” Ulman orders. “Today, we have a guest speaker. Seth will be talking about Nigel’s independent-study subject: the history of angels in the kingdom of hell. Nigel, you’ll want to be sure to listen carefully and take notes.”

  As Vesper stands to let Seth up, she shakes her wrist and a metal rod falls from her left sleeve. Catching it in her right hand, she turns to jab at his heart.

  He’s too strong for her. Seth intercepts Vesper’s weapon. With his free hand, he flips up the table, which knocks down Nigel, Quincie, and Kieren. Then Seth drives the rod through Vesper’s heart and runs out the door.

  I chase after him.

  From behind, I hear Bridget scream, then Evelyn. I hear Ulman ranting about Scholomance policy. Almost to the elevator, Seth makes a 180. “You see, baby brother, you’re following me already. Practice saying it: ‘Hail, Lucifer, my king!’”

  He dematerializes before I can reach him. That was no ordinary fallen angel. That was the Enemy himself.

  He’s been here the whole time.

  Screw him. The others need me.

  The table has been set back upright. Lucy is cradling Vesper on the floor. The other students have gathered around them.

  Ulman urges us all to our seats. Despite her power, no one cares. This isn’t like what happened to Willa. Vesper isn’t dead yet.

  Nigel and Bridget make room for me, and I move in closer to smooth Vesper’s hair.

  “I came here to destroy this place,” she whispers. “That’s what I wanted, more than anything. I would’ve burned it to the ground, if you all weren’t trapped inside.”

  “You had me fooled,” I say. “I didn’t —”

  Vesper’s grin is more of a grimace. “I make a believable bitch, don’t I?” Her laugh is weak, bloody. “You’re pretty, Zachary. Not real bright, but pretty.”

  One more breath and she’s gone.

  Over Ulman’s protests, Lucy says, “We’ll try the resurrection spell again and —”

  “Forget it,” Kieren declares. “Willa’s death was magical. Vesper was killed with something of this earth.”

  Not by someone of this earth, but it’s the means — not the actor — that matters.

  The Wolf yanks the rod out of Vesper’s body, and more blood pours out and pools below. I recognize it as a towel bar. From her private bathroom, I bet. She had that metal nail file. She could’ve used that to unscrew it.

  “Be seated,” Ulman insists. “This is Demonic History, not Alchemy and Incantations.” She turns toward me and ceremonially announces, “During class time, you may not leave without my express permission. Zachary left class without being excused.”

  She jerks her wrist my way. I’m not sure if she’s trying to kill me or relocate me. Again, nothing happens. “Zachary, you are hereby expelled. You will leave alone. Mr. Bilovski is holding the elevator for you. He is authorized to take you to the roof.”

  Bridget exclaims, “Bilovski is going to throw Zachary off the building?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Ulman says. “You all will go to observe and write a two-page report for tomorrow on what you see. Consider this a field trip.”

  The roof is outside. The roof means my wings are back in play. Quincie and Kieren are already on their feet and headed around the table. I feel guilty for abandoning Vesper’s body, but nothing can bring her back now, and this is the first break we’ve had.

  It’s a race to the elevator.

  IN THE ELEVATOR Kieren hands me the towel bar. It still has Vesper’s blood on it.

  The students look less shell-shocked than they did after we lost Willa.

  They’re adapting. Accepting, or at least compartmentalizing. I hope it’s a sign of strength, not resignation. We’re not out of here yet.

  The doors open to the roof. Cold hits like a physical blow. It’s ten, maybe twenty degrees below zero. I’m ready to bust out my wings. Then I look up.

  I’m facing a twenty-foot-tall, slate-colored dragon with a spiked head frill. It’s missing its right eye. It’s trapped a squirming, sobbing, very alive Willa beneath one of its front paws. They’re both wet, which is risky at this temperature. At least for her.

  Shaking its enormous head and scales, the dragon tosses water in all directions. Up front, Kieren, Quincie, Lucy, and I get the brunt of the spray.

  The winter wind blows, making it worse.

  “Good morning, Zachary,” Ulman says, materializing as the others stumble out of the elevator. “This dragon has come to take you away.”

  I glance at the blood-stained towel bar in my hands. A toothpick would be about as effective.

  When I loosen my grip, Nigel snatches away the bar and charges the dragon’s paw as he shouts Willa’s name.

  The dragon swings its head, knocking Nigel off the building.

  Before I can think twice, I fly up and intercept the kid in midair.

  If I set Nigel down by himself on the ground in these hills, in this weather, it would be the equivalent of a death sentence. Besides, he’ll never run away from SP now.
Not without Willa.

  Nigel squirms. The bar slips away. “Whoa!” he yells.

  “Be still so I don’t drop you on your head.” It’s not the most angelic thing to say.

  Lucy runs to meet us on the roof, and she gives Nigel a quick hug.

  Kieren and Quincie stand shoulder to shoulder in front of the other girls, who’re gaping at my wings. Kieren never takes his eyes off the dragon.

  “Zachary,” Ulman says, materializing by the dragon’s side. “You have been expelled for leaving class without permission. I seem to be incapable of killing you. Therefore, this fine fellow will escort you directly to hell.”

  “That’s not what expelled means,” Evelyn shouts. “It means —”

  “Not in accordance with your contracts,” Ulman informs her. “You agreed to abide by the rules of this institution. Leaving class without permission is forbidden. My available discretion is —”

  “Limited,” Kieren finishes. “We’ve heard it before.”

  I think back on what the devil said to me in the third-floor hallway, that I would hail him as my king. Has this been his plan all along, to trick me into joining his army of fallen angels? Did he recruit Lucy simply to lure me through Scholomance’s front door? To get me to subject myself to his rules, tempt me to break one?

  If so, it worked. I would’ve done almost anything for someone Miranda loved.

  I wasn’t an easy catch. My slipped status has made me more wary of evil.

  What I don’t get is, why bother?

  What about me was worth so much trouble?

  Bridget draws papers from her pants pocket. She unfolds them and begins to study them.

  “Zachary,” Ulman begins again. “It’s no longer a secret that you’re a flight risk. If you come willingly, Willa will be released.”

  What else can I do? “Fine.”

  The dragon lifts its paw. Willa struggles to her feet. Nigel charges forward again, this time to assist her. Evelyn starts to follow.

  Then Quincie raises a warning hand, urging the Otter to stay back from the dragon. Smoke is rising from its nostrils. If that thing can breathe fire, there’s nowhere to go except back inside SP. The fact that I’m immortal doesn’t mean I can’t be barbecued.

  I escort Lucy to the group. Nigel half-carries Willa behind Kieren and Quincie. There’s no reason to prolong this. Willa needs a hot shower and blankets — stat. I’m about to say my good-byes when Bridget runs up to me.

  “Did you sign your contract?” Bridget asks. She’s holding her fistful of paperwork. “The one in that manila folder of forms on your desk when we first arrived?”

  The forms looked standard, boring. “I never signed or turned anything in.”

  “Me neither,” Kieren adds, reading over Bridget’s shoulder.

  “You can’t take Zachary,” Bridget informs Ulman. “Or, for that matter, Kieren. You have no right to them. They didn’t consent to this overly vague, tiny-print, boilerplate provision allowing ‘special disciplinary action in accordance with the traditions of this and its affiliated institutions.’ So, tough luck.”

  “It makes no difference if they actually signed,” Ulman counters. “They applied and were accepted and —”

  “Except,” Bridget interrupts, “it says here, lower down, in even tinier print, that subjecting oneself to the contract requires express consent.”

  Otherwise, the literally Highest Court can step in and toss out the whole thing. Bridget is right. Fate isn’t running a free-for-all. There are rules of engagement between heaven and hell. Free will is what makes one’s destiny.

  “The rules must be enforced.” Ulman zeroes in on Quincie. “You are the tenth scholar. Already tithed to the Luminous One. Who better to pay for the angel’s misdeed?”

  Not only was Lucy the bait, Quincie is the devil’s ace in the hole.

  Before I can protest, Bridget prompts, “Quincie? Did you sign?”

  As Kieren reaches for her, Quincie replies, “I didn’t even open the envelope.”

  I can’t help feeling proud of her. Lucifer is used to dealing with the weak willed. He may have tempted her into becoming the tenth student through the front door, but Quincie will never succumb to his expectations for a tenth scholar. She’s learned to define herself.

  Ulman paces, fuming. “A student must be punished, an example set.” Turning, she claps her hands beneath her bosom and tells the dragon, “Take another one. It doesn’t matter which.”

  Fire pours from the dragon’s mouth and scatters us to either side of the elevator.

  I can’t fly the students to safety, not all of them. Not at once. I should save Quincie. She’s my assignment. But Lucy, she’s Miranda’s best friend. And Kieren . . . He’ll be killed, trying to protect the rest.

  Once the flame subsides, Lucy darts to press the elevator button.

  The dragon bounds forward, quick for something so huge. It scoops Lucy up into the air with one paw and then catches her in its claws.

  “Not Lucy!” Ulman screams at the beast. “I need her to TA gym!”

  “The elevator,” Kieren shouts as the door opens. “While it’s busy, go!”

  Ulman points at Nigel. “What about that one? Why don’t you want him?”

  “I didn’t sign,” Nigel says. “Willa’s parents filled out the forms for both of us.”

  Everyone but the Wolf and Quincie hurries inside the elevator. The doors close, shielding them. For now.

  Carrying Lucy, the dragon takes flight, but it’s not the only one with wings. I’m diving after it into the lake.

  I ditch my wings a second before hitting the water. I understand now why it hasn’t frozen over. There’s a fire-breathing dragon living here. I can’t see anything below the surface, except some lava rocks along the SP foundation.

  My lungs burn. I can’t hold my breath much longer.

  I can’t believe this. I’ve lost Lucy, lost her to him.

  Up top, Quincie and Kieren are on the roof with Ulman.

  When I rejoin them, the ghost says, “Get inside the school, or I will kill the werewolf.”

  The thought of walking back in is physically painful, but what choice do I have?

  First I glance to the heavens. I imagine my Miranda, my girl, looking down. “Pray for us,” I tell her. “We need all the help we can get.”

  THE GIRLS HURRY WILLA into a hot shower. She’s changed into a school uniform in time for Underworld Governments. By then, Vesper’s body has been removed.

  We gut our way through the rest of the morning. Losing Lucy. Willa’s return. Zachary revealed as an angel. It’s a lot to process. Nobody says much, even at lunch.

  Then, in Physical Fitness & Combat, Dr. Ulman announces that, starting tomorrow, we’ll pair off in blood matches. Forget that.

  Forget the reversal spell on the building. We’re not waiting for rescue.

  We’re leaving. All of us. I have faith that we’ll find a way.

  But come hell or high water, this was our last day of class.

  “Since we arrived,” I begin in the first-floor living room, “we’ve been reacting. Playing by the Scholomance rules. Or paying the price. Although . . .” I nod to Bridget. “The devil clearly underestimated one member of our team.”

  Willa is snuggled under Nigel’s arm on the sofa.

  “What else can we do?” Nigel asks. “We’re up against a ghost who can kill or relocate someone with a flick of her hankie. Whatever possessed Lucy. Then there’s that really tall, bald guy who looks like Zachary and murdered Vesper.”

  “He does not look like Zachary,” Quince insists from the chair closest to the fireplace. “They’re both more than six feet tall, appear to be about the same age, and they have a similar build. But Seth’s coloring is much fairer, and he looks sunburned.”

  “Don’t everybody freak out.” Zach sips his Dr Pepper. “But I think Seth is the devil. If you see him again, don’t trust anything he says.”

  Nobody freaks out. But they take a couple
of minutes to consider that.

  “Isn’t Lucifer a fallen angel?” Evie asks, glancing at the fireplace print.

  “A fallen archangel,” I say. “Zach is a guardian angel.”

  Bridget moves in from the window wall. “Are you a bad angel?” she asks Zach.

  “I am not a bad angel,” he assures her. “I’m just not great at my job.”

  Willa stands. “I first came to near a stream by the storage area in the subbasement. Then I blacked out again. For days, I guess. Finally, I woke up in a cavern by the lake. The dragon grabbed me and brought me out through the water.”

  “Do you know who resurrected you?” Quince asks.

  Willa shakes her head. “I don’t remember.”

  “It took Lucy to hell by diving back down,” Evie reminds us.

  “So the lake leads to both hell and freedom,” Nigel points out. “Maybe.”

  “The water isn’t that cold,” Zach adds. “If we could find a way to dry off —”

  “We packed blankets,” I say. “They’re in the SUV.”

  “Hang on,” Bridget says. “The cavern opening to the lake could be separated from the subbasement by tons of rock. It’s possible that Willa wasn’t carried there, but instead Ulman magically teleported her like she did with Kieren that day from the gym.”

  At Willa’s baffled look, Nigel whispers the story to her.

  “A lot of things are possible,” I reply. “We have to try.”

  “Uh, guys?” Evie begins. “You’re forgetting the three hell dogs.”

  “If there were only three originally,” Willa informs us, “then they’re down to two. I saw one with its heart cut out. The other two were eating it.”

  Someone beat me to the hunt.

  Odds are, whoever it was took that fresh heart as a sacrifice. Used it in a spell to restore Willa. The Bilovskis? I haven’t seen the handyman lately.

  “I see no reason to wait,” the angel says. “Kieren, with your nose, you can smell those hellhounds coming. You lead everyone else out.”

  “Where are you going?” Quince asks.

  “To bring back Lucy,” Zach replies, “from hell.”

 

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