by E Hall
I turn away, afraid she saw the disturbing vision I had. Honey’s warning rings in my ears when Dewey returns with two cookies balanced on top of two cups. “Yassi, there you are. As a second-year, maybe you can answer this question, is it unusual for students to dress up as dead members of the school community?”
“What?” she asks, popping a piece of candy corn in her mouth.
“Haven’t you noticed the group of students dressed up as other students afflicted, impaled, or otherwise—?” He drags his finger across his throat.
“Yeah,” I say. “I thought it was a Hallows Eve thing. Zombies are really popular Halloween costumes.”
Yassi shakes her head and her face falls as though realizing the meaning behind the costumes. “Even though Hallows Eve is a night to celebrate the dead, it’s also a time to respect life.”
“So the person dressed up as a vampire with a stake through his heart is unusual?”
“Yeah,” she breathes.
“Standard Halloween fare in the human world,” I counter.
Her eyes meet mine, and I’m sure she saw my vision. Her jaw tightens. “No. Something isn’t right.”
“I think it’s the secret society,” Dewey says. “Trying to scare us or make a point. It’s not every day I see a dead dwarf walking around. I don’t like it.”
“It’s wrong,” Audra says, helping herself to Dewey’s second cookie.
“I need some fresh air.” I hurry outside, avoiding the massive spider’s web and sit on a bench. In the shadows, a familiar guy with a top hat, confers closely with the boy wearing a vampire costume with a stake jutting from the chest.
If Dewey is right and there’s a secret society, aspiring to divide magicals, does JJ want to join? Is he already a member? He is moody, mean, and mysterious after all.
Before I can speculate further, the bells chime eleven times, indicating it’s time for us to go to the cemetery for the ritual. I’d rather return to the safety of the dorm, but don’t dare walk back by myself. I wait for my friends, despite Honey’s warning and my trepidation.
Von Friek House clears out, and we follow torches lighting the way through the orchard, the pumpkin patch, and to the iron gates of an old graveyard.
Yassi says, “This is where all the Chancellors are buried, some of their family members, and others associated with Riptivik. It also used to be a portal to the other realm.”
She leaves out the part about how it’s creepy. Mist hangs low around the tall stones as we form a wide circle around the perimeter. Lit candles make their way around the ring until we all hold one. I recall the spell Bobby told me when he and his buddies held candles in the classroom when I ran into him on my way to get help from Popperwell.
My stomach swims with so much anxiety I can hardly think straight.
Derrington tends a fire in front of a tomb and everyone is so quiet I can hear the crackle and snap of the wood, along with the wind whispering through the trees in the nearby forest.
I think of the beach bonfire the night before I found out that I’m a witch and ended up at Riptivik.
She welcomes us, invokes the cardinal directions, honors the ancestors, and asks that the dark mysteries guide the spirits to their final resting places. Sparks blaze from the fire, lifting toward the sky and warming me despite being in a cemetery on Friday the thirteenth. “Let us not extinguish our light tonight as we guide the spirits to pass to the next realm.”
We repeat several chants we learned in conservation class and then fall silent and still as a hazy figure rises from behind the tomb. Is this what Bobby meant? Am I supposed to do something to stop this? I swallow hard. The warmth leaves me. Witch or not, this feels wrong.
Derrington raises her arms and speaks stridently. “Those gathered are here to protect and light the way so you may safely travel onwards. Go, be free of this mortal life, now and forevermore.”
The ghost of a man wearing a winter jacket and snow boots shambles along a worn track in the grass. His eyes gaze straight ahead as though he doesn’t see us. When he reaches the edge of the ring, it’s as if an invisible hand snatches him up, and he disappears into the night.
I stare up at the sky. Clouds shift past the full moon, stars spark to life, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I see witches up there on brooms. But I don’t. Instead, we stand guard as several other ghosts make their journey to the other realm wherever that is.
My legs tremble. I brush cold sweat from my brow. The spell Bobby told me to grant our freedom is on my tongue. I try to find him in the flickering light but don’t.
Another ghost appears. Around the circle, several candles suddenly snuff out. The circle of light breaks. Fear keeps me from speaking the spell or making a wish.
Instead of the ghost moving smoothly forward like the others, he flickers like a flame in the breeze. When he nears the edge of the circle, instead of vanishing to the other realm, his figure darkens into a ghastly vision of death and decay.
From the gravestones, more spirits appear, and over the shrieks of students, Derrington shouts for us to relight the candles and return to the circle. I scramble, scanning for Bobby. Did I do something wrong? Or keep things from going right?
Everyone scatters. I trip over a mossy rock. Spirits, ghosts, and ghouls rise from the graves. Cold seeps into my skin. A piercing feeling, like Yassi reading my mind, but amplified, penetrates the deepest parts of me.
I get to my feet as everyone stampedes from the cemetery. I shout for Yassi, Dewey, and Wyatt, any of my friends. The fire smolders, and I can’t tell which direction leads back to campus.
Several of the grim, creepy figures surround me, chilling me further. They drain me, suffocate me, and I need fresh air more than I did when I had the vision on the dancefloor. I spin in a circle, but they close in. My head aches and my vision blurs. I feel weak like I’m slipping underwater. I struggle to breathe as the air is leaving me and I move away, away from this life.
Then someone sweeps me off my feet and pulls me tight against them. The figure is a blur or maybe I’m losing consciousness. I squeeze my eyes closed as air moves swiftly across my skin.
Silence surrounds me. Fear grips me. I open my eyes. The bushy rows of the apple trees in the orchard take shape. The stars twinkle high above. A single cricket chirps a lonely tune. I look up into a pair of gray eyes. JJ’s brow furrows as he concentrates on the path ahead, carrying me. He smells like the fresh air I longed for moments ago.
We stop under a gnarled tree. I blink a few times. JJ, without his hat, gazes into the darkness at my back. He brightens slightly when our eyes meet.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“I’m not sure.” The vision while dancing, the ghosts in the cemetery, and our flight left me feeling cold and shaky, lost and confused.
He looks at me a moment longer and says, “You’re okay.”
I feel sudden warmth like the stars above light me up within.
Something like relief or amusement flashes across his face. Then it slides away as quickly as he lowers me to the ground. I smooth my costume.
“What happened?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
“JJ, you owe me an explanation,” I demand. “You have to answer me this time.”
“What matters is that you’re okay.” His voice is low. Grave. His eyes hold mine. Intense. Then he hurries away.
I call after him, but he fades into the darkness like a ghost.
★November★
Chapter 23
★
The night feels like a forbidden thing. In the distance, the bells chime, indicating it’s midnight. JJ walks in front of me. His gaze travels ever upward as though seeking something beyond.
I grip his arm, stopping him and shiver. “I didn’t do it,” I say.
The moon lifts higher in the sky as though trying to get farther away from everything that happened in the last hour. I’d like to do the same.
We’re still in the orchard. Now, he paces, gazes sky
ward, and every once in a while steals a glance, or rather casts a glare, at me. As if this mess is my fault. Is it?
To his back, I say, “For the record, I had no interest in the Hallows Eve ritual. I am not a fan of cemeteries. My candle stayed lit as instructed. I didn’t say the spell.”
JJ looks sharply at me.
I have no interest in answering the question he’s sure to ask what spell? “I was the one who was swarmed by those ghastly ghouls or whatever.” I stalk toward him as my voice rises. “And just so we’re clear, I hate ghosts.” I grind out the words.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think the stoic, the cold—literally, his skin is icy—, and moody JJ Thorne flinches. Maybe I’m finally getting through to him.
“Explain what happened,” I say. My finger, poking him in the chest—it’s surprisingly hard—punctuates each word.
“I can’t explain.” His voice is as thin as the air.
“Because you don’t know or because don’t want to?” I fire back.
He steps away from me. “Come on. You should go back to your dorm.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have right now.” In place of his usual irritability, he sounds slightly strained.
I huff, but he walks on. I follow because I refuse to be left in the orchard alone. Not on this night and given what happened, not on any night.
We walk back to my dorm in silence. Despite wanting nothing to do with him, I keep close by JJ’s side as shadows loom bigger and spookier at this late hour.
My body aches with exhaustion as the events of the night rush back to me: the circle of students in the cemetery led by Professor Derrington, ushering spirits to the next realm. Then the candles flickering, the figures fading and transforming into creepy ghouls. They surrounded me, and I felt as though I too was leaving this life. Chills work their way across my skin, right down to my bones. I’m too shaken to ask JJ more questions and slow down a beat. In the distance, a coyote howls. He stops and grabs my hand.
I fight the urge to yank it away because somehow it fits there. I huff.
I hasten to keep up with him—he’s practically dragging me. The lanterns guide us along the path as we near Fiona Pennylegion House, my dorm.
JJ’s hand tightens around mine. Before we get there, he pulls me into an alcove. We’re so close I can see the stars reflected in his eyes. His breath his cool on my cheek.
“Maija, I’m here to protect you. Don’t make my job more difficult.”
“Gregor’s Axe, don’t make my life difficult,” I retort. “I’m the one who has to spy on Storch and Bobby. I’m the one who was attacked and needed rescuing or whatever.”
A flicker of a smile crosses his features.
I snort. “Figures you’d relish my misfortune.”
He growls in frustration. “Tonight was—” He stops himself. “Watch your—” He shakes his head.
I want him to say that he doesn’t relish my misfortune. I want him to say a hundred sweet nothings. But he doesn’t. He can’t. They would be lies.
I tear away and race toward the steps of my dorm as annoyed with myself for the stubborn attraction I have for him and his stubborn hatred of me. I’m better off with Bobby.
I glance over my shoulder as the door swings open. JJ’s eyes dim as he watches from the sidewalk, but he doesn’t walk away.
Miss Mayweather, head of the dorm, stands beside Chancellor West, the head of school.
“Ah, there you are,” she says, pulling me close. “Everyone else returned already and we were just about to summon a search party.”
Chancellor West’s eyes flit to JJ. He seems to register something and then nods. When I turn to tell him thank you, he’s already gone along with West.
The warmth of Penny House fills me, but the unanswered questions about the night exhaust me further.
“Why don’t you go up to bed.” Miss Mayweather’s words are less a question and more of a command that I gladly follow.
I catch my reflection in a mirror at the top of the stairs. I startle at my blue skin but then remember before the chaos in the cemetery. The party seems like ages ago. I only hope that the blue tint, along with everything else about tonight, disappears while I sleep.
The following morning, I wake up early for post-party cleanup duty. My limbs and thoughts are gummy as though I’d been running all night or like I’m still stuck in that strange in-between place when the ghosts in the graveyard surrounded me.
I meet a few other first years downstairs. The blanket of sleep lingers over us as we step into the crisp and foggy morning. The dying grass, the leaves lining the sidewalk, and the stillness in the air keep us close and quiet.
Dewey Dunkle and a few others from his dorm wait in front of Von Friek House. Usually, I walk past it on the way to futurism. Even on the sunniest of days, it looks haunted.
I enter a vacant sitting room and discretely try the cleaning incantation. A paper cup spins around a few times, puffs out a bit of smoke, and incinerates. I stamp it out with my shoe. My shoulders drop. I sweep the room with an old broom I found in a cupboard. I try to puzzle out answers, but my thoughts revolve around the cemetery, the broken circle, ghouls, and JJ.
When my bin is almost full, I cross the room to close a closet door. A black cape hangs on the back. I shiver, before rushing to meet the others downstairs in the foyer.
With the remains of the party swept way, the house doesn’t look any less haunted. The vision I had before the incident in the graveyard is as vivid as ever. I was dancing, having fun when all of a sudden behind my eyes, I saw figures in capes and cloaks (is there a difference?) like the one upstairs, including myself, chasing students off-campus. They were threatened, afraid, and running for their lives.
Later, when I return to Penny House, Yassi, Audra, Dewey Dunkle, Winnie Tarbell, and a few others are waiting for me in the entry.
Yassi rushes to me and wraps me in a hug. “What happened? Are you just getting back now?” she asks.
“No, I got back last night.”
“It must have been late. Miss Mayweather insisted we all go to sleep. They found out about the party. I tried to stay awake, but—I’m sorry, Maija. I’m glad you’re okay.”
JJ’s words echo. He seemed relieved to see that was indeed true. Not that he cares.
“All I want to know is what happened.” My voice sounds flat, distant, and not at all like my usual cheerful tone.
“We all want to know what happened,” Winnie says. “The party was fun, except I didn’t like some of the costume selections. Zombie dwarves? No thank you. And did you see the elves with the wood pox?” She looks queasy. “But everything that came after it was even odder.”
“It wasn’t like that last year,” Audra adds.
“The circle was broken this time,” Yassi says as if that explains it. “Why?” She shrugs. “Who?” She shakes her head. “We don’t know that either.”
“I think I have an idea,” Dewey says.
“Just don’t tell us it was a dinosaur,” Audra says, referring to his conspiracy theories.
“Chaos. Disruption…perhaps it was the student secret society trying to show the Hive what they’re capable of. Derrington said that when Hallows Eve falls on Friday the thirteenth, the moon is full and the energy powerful, the veil between the realms lifts.” He echoes the lesson in class earlier that day.
Yassi nods. “Meaning spirits who’re prevented from moving on to the next realm can become trapped here.”
Dewey whispers, “Trapped and then they become demon-wraiths.”
I’m about to ask what that means when Miss Mayweather marches into the common room and announces, “Required all-school assembly in Lindholm.”
No one moves.
“Now,” she orders.
Chapter 24
★
Unlike the excitement rippling through Lindholm Auditorium during the commencement ceremony in September, the current mood wavers with uncert
ainty and worry.
Ms. Storch, head of administration and dressed in cardinal red, takes to the microphone. “Your attention.” She pounds her fist on the podium.
The dull clamor in the room of hushed conversations quickly falls away.
“Ordinarily, I’d say good morning. However, this is not a good morning. Last night’s party was not authorized and the stunts at the ceremony were forbidden.”
A murmur passes through the crowd.
Ms. Storch draws a deep breath. “We’re investigating this incident. However, if those who orchestrated it, if you come forward now, the punishment will be less severe.”
No one moves.
Ms. Storch clicks her tongue. “Very well. I expect some of you will be sent to the Iron Tower. From here on out, things are going to be different at Riptivik. You will be organized into two groups: those who behave and follow rules and those who don’t.”
From nearby, Bobby and his buddies smirk.
Storch glares. “Those who’ve never had an infraction will be in the Gold Class. If you break a rule, you’re cast to the Red Class, consider it probation. If you break three rules while in the Red Class, it’s directly to the Iron Tower. Is that understood?”
A few people protest, saying they’re underage to go to jail, but Storch hollers above their voices. “Let me make this clear. Each one of you is a reform school student. This isn’t rainbows and lollipops. You will make the changes and modifications we mandate or you will be going to prison.”
She draws a deep breath and her face gets red. I worry she’s going to breathe fire. “Further, it’s clear you cannot be trusted to act like mature individuals. We will be instituting an early curfew at nightfall and organizing chaperones from the Coven Constabulary to bring you to and from the library for studying. From now on, tutoring will take place there, instead of in the classroom buildings.” Her voice is clipped. “As for the other events last night, the Office of Magical Management will address the issue.”
