Elemental Fate (Paranormal Public Book 12)

by Maddy Edwards

  “Give me a minute,” I muttered.

  We were in the library, where we hadn’t spent a lot of time that semester. It seemed pretty popular with other students, though; the place was almost full. Luckily, the Tabble was right on the first floor, so we had no trouble getting hold of some back issues.

  Here’s what it said:

  In a twist of fate, the interior designer was cleared of charges that she intentionally turned Camilla Van Rothson’s hair red while in jail. Ilene Palor volunteered at the jail once a week, doing haircuts and general maintenance for the inmates. She has been a trusted employee for six years, so it came as a surprise when she was accused of turning the pixie’s hair red, but there was no other explanation. Inmates were not given access to dyes, so Van Rothson couldn’t have done it herself. Ilene was relieved of her weekly duties and the prison has had difficulty in finding a replacement. No one is sure why.

  “That’s a pretty generic article,” said Keegan. “I’m sure they’re having trouble finding a replacement because no one wants to work with crazies like Camilla, especially doing them favors. Let her take care of her own messy hair.”

  “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel!” said Eighellie.

  “What were they apologizing for?”

  “It didn’t say,” I said. “Maybe Lisabelle asked her to make Camilla’s hair red, you know, for her own amusement, and then she did, so when the Tabble called her out on it, Lisabelle didn’t appreciate it.”

  “Lisabelle isn’t the petty type,” said Eighellie. “I doubt that’s what happened.”

  “Well, all the paranormals who could tell us are busy,” I said. “Lisabelle certainly isn’t going to explain herself, and it’s not as if we’re going to ask Camilla.”

  “Still, if Lisabelle threatened the Tabble, she might have also threatened someone about Camilla,” said Eighellie. “Just because what happens looks petty to us doesn’t mean it is.”

  “She has a point,” said Keegan.

  “I’m sorry, what’d you say?” Eighellie cupped one hand around her ear and leaned toward the tree sprite. He rolled his eyes and Eighellie grinned.

  “Alright, well, I don’t think that helped us any,” I sighed. “We might as well go prepare for the second Cornerstone.”

  I closed the Tabble and the three of us walked out of the library.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  That night there was a knock at the front door of Astra. Keegan and I were there preparing for Cornerstone, which meant we were playing chess. Before we could even get up to answer the door, Eighellie came streaming in, glowing with excitement.

  “Where were you?” Keegan asked. “I came by Airlee, but you weren’t there.”

  “I was at the Long Building,” said Eighellie. “Then I went to the library.”

  “Oh?” I tried not to sound too excited.

  “You know the book Averett opened and you left me to read?” she said.

  “We all opened it,” I said defensively.

  “Yeah, whatever,” said Eighellie. “Anyway, I started to read it, and at first I didn’t think that anything in it had anything to do with the Counter Wheel. But it turns out I was SO wrong.”

  “It took you this long to read a book?” Keegan asked curiously. “I thought you were better than that.”

  “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been kind of busy,” she said waspishly.

  “Just tell us what you found,” I said.

  Eighellie plopped down and flipped open one of the many pages she had bookmarked. She would have drawn out the enjoyment of annoying Keegan for a much longer time, except that she also couldn’t wait to tell us about her discovery.

  “The school is really the star of the show in this story. Martha’s apparently a trip,” she said, looking at me for conformation.

  Eighellie was jealous of the fact that I seemed to know all these cool paranormals. She gave me a new perspective on my acquaintances, whereas before I had just thought they were crazy. “I haven’t seen Martha since I arrived,” I said. “I guess she’s glad about the construction, but it’s also a lot of work for her.”

  “I can’t believe she bakes in Astra,” said Eighellie in wonder. “It’s just the coolest.”

  “My sister says she finds it soothing,” I said.

  “Baking isn’t soothing. How can you relax when stuff’s exploding everywhere?” said Keegan earnestly.

  “If I had to guess, I’d say you and Martha don’t bake in the same manner,” said Eighellie.

  Keegan gave her a confused look.

  “Anyway, as I was saying,” Eighellie went on, “Public’s really the star of the show. The place was more rudimentary back then. There weren’t so many buildings, and the ones that did exist had multiple uses.”

  “Like the Old Building,” I said.

  “Featherton Hall,” she confirmed. “Right.”

  “It’s called Featherton?” said Keegan.

  “Yes, and the Long Building is Garrison Hall,” said Eighellie. “Just because students can’t currently be bothered to use the proper designations doesn’t mean people didn’t in the past.”

  “Is Queen Ashray talked about?” I said. Queen Ashray was an elemental queen and was pretty much the beginning and end of my knowledge of history as it related to Public.

  “Not in here,” said Eighellie. She didn’t ask me who Ashray was, because of course she already knew. “She was a big part of a lot of stuff, but I don’t think she had anything to do with this. Anyhow, Featherton is the one I’m interested in,” she went on, leaning over the pages. The book smelled faintly of mold, and the pages were yellowing. The one she was trying to read was torn halfway down and had been stuck together with what looked like tape that had also started to yellow.

  Eighellie started reading out loud: “Featherton Hall was one of the first non-dorm structures built on the Paranormal Public campus. The founders felt that Public needed a meeting place separate from the dorms, and Featherton served that purpose. Of course, the biggest obstacle to building Featherton, aside from logistics, was money. It is thought that eventually the project was dead in the water and the founders were resigning themselves to making do without a hall when a large sum of money was donated. The donor only wanted three things. The first was that the building be named Featherton, with no explanation as to why; the second was that the table in the main dining hall be made entirely of fine cherry, as had been the table that the donor had eaten on as a child; and the third was that as long as Paranormal Public was open, Featherton Hall would be used in some capacity for students.”

  “Those specifications, much less demanding than many others that the founders had agreed to, and for a much larger sum, were accepted. The donor came to see Featherton in its entirety only once, and that was at the opening ceremony.”

  I gulped. My eyes fixed on the weathered old image I was looking at, which I was sure must be a picture of some of the characters who had helped make the Featherton building a reality. One woman in particular caught my eye, but then I was quickly distracted by something more shocking.

  Standing next to the paranormal who had donated the money was a familiar-looking vampire, the one from the Black Market. I guess blood does live forever.

  “Who’s that?” I asked, pointing to the vampire. Eighellie squinted over the wilted pages.

  “That’s the designer,” she said. “He was a famous vampire architect who designed a lot of the first paranormal structures. He was known for practical and charming decor with an emphasis on old and expensive pieces. Why?”

  I quickly told my friends about what had happened at the Black Market.

  “The donor is aboveboard, though, so I don’t know how there could be a connection,” said Eighellie. “He was the second paranormal president, widely respected and well loved. He amassed a fortune after he finished his term, then he gave it all back to Public to help start the school.”

  “Does it say whether he demanded that that parti
cular vampire do the design?”

  “It doesn’t say anything like that specifically. It just says that if you wanted something done at the highest level of quality in those days, you got him.”

  I swallowed hard. “What did you say his name was again?”

  Eighellie closed the book, eyeing me.

  “I didn’t,” she said quickly. “It’s Thoadous Horveth.”

  “Never heard of him,” Keegan and I chorused together.

  “Well, of course not. What do either of you know about architectural design?” Eighellie said absently.

  Keegan opened his mouth and mimicked her, but she didn’t notice.

  “Are you saying that we should find out more about this Horveth character?” she said, looking at me.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I’m saying about that.”

  Now more than ever I wished Lough had explained himself. If he was going up against this vampire, I hoped he was being careful. Whoever Horveth was, he certainly wasn’t someone I wanted to mess with.

  I hadn’t seen Charlotte since the night of Lanca’s visit. I knew that she and Lanca were on the outs, but I wasn’t quite sure if I was angry with her myself. If I’d had the time I might have gone to her cottage, but I didn’t, because the second Cornerstone was looming and we had a lot to do to get ready.

  On the morning of the second Cornerstone, Eighellie and Keegan were with me at Astra when the Tabble arrived.

  REVEALED: Dobrov Valedication’s CRAZY sister

  Dobrov Valedication is the president at Paranormal Public. He became president at the demand of President Quest, who is MIA and presumed deeply and desperately injured. Which raises the question, to be looked at in another article, of how our president was attacked in the first place. President Valedication had no experience in university administration, much less at the highest levels, when he was appointed to the helm of the most important paranormal university in the world.

  President Valedication has done a questionable job, but today this publication is going to reveal his true background. What many of our readers probably don’t know is that President Valedication had a twin sister named Daisy, who sources tell us started at Public the same time he did and made quite the impression.

  “Daisy was the outspoken, out-everything of the two of them,” said one of our sources. “Including out of her mind. She stood up to Lisabelle Verlans, and not even Queen Lanca did that.”

  Daisy and Dobrov at the time were characterized by horrible skin wounds, a product of their hybrid background . . .

  At that point my friends and I stopped reading.

  “Now that Lisabelle’s scared them away from going after her, I guess they were bound to make for Dobrov,” said Eighellie.

  “They’re acting as if this is news, but it really isn’t,” I said. “Okay, last semester they harped on the fact that he was a hybrid, but everyone knows about Daisy.”

  It was a sad point, but true. Unfortunately, we had other things on our minds that day, so we set the Tabble aside for the time being.

  Although there were mixed feelings among the student body about fighting Surround, I thought it might give us a more realistic experience. The construction workers didn’t appear to have any ill will toward students in relation to the first Cornerstone, and that was a relief. They might have been preoccupied with the murder of Ms. Cernal and whatever Trafton had told them to convince them that attacking students wasn’t worth it, but whatever the cause, over the last few weeks their malice toward us had clearly dissipated.

  “I can’t believe they haven’t solved it yet,” said Keegan. We were walking across campus to join our team.

  “The paranormal police have devoted a lot of time to the case, which makes it all the stranger that they haven’t found anything,” I said.

  Keegan agreed. “It’s not like she wasn’t important. Bertrum was in love with her, clearly, although I suppose he might still be so upset about what happened to Sip that he isn’t focusing on it.” Keegan had never said much about the evening when we had found Sip in Charlotte’s cottage; he hadn’t known the paranormal president personally, after all. But I think it had shaken him just the same, if for no other reason than that if they could get to her there, they could get to him, or the rest of us, anywhere.

  “Bertrum is trying to keep the paranormal government from voting to go to war with Lisabelle,” I said. “He probably doesn’t have time to worry about the murder, especially with the TP office shut down.”

  “It was a good idea,” said Keegan, “keeping track of who enters Public, but it clearly couldn’t work as planned once some of the TPs went missing.”

  “Maybe if Bertrum had been given more time, he could have ironed out the kinks,” I said.

  Just then we were interrupted by the sight of someone striding across the dark campus ahead of us. It was Fallgrabber, and he was walking quickly and looking repeatedly from left to right. I hadn’t seen much of the protocols officer since the night when Professor Heather had dragged us to his apartment and Trafton had cut in and saved us. I wondered what he was up to now, but just as I started to say so, Hannah came up to us with Fog and Frances flanking her.

  “Where are you going?” asked Hannah. Both Keegan and I skidded to a halt. Technically we were in the same group as Hannah, but that wasn’t by choice, hers or ours. If her actions said anything at all, it was that she viewed us as evil-doing pariahs who only brought her down, and whom, if she had been the size of a lion to our mouse, she would have obliterated with one sharp claw.

  Okay, my mind tended toward the dramatic. The only time she ever spoke directly to me was to criticize or argue, and even those moments were few and far between. But I naturally assumed that if she was talking to me at all, it was to do one or the other.

  “We’re going to the second Cornerstone,” I said. “As are you.”

  “No, you’re not,” she said. “You need to stay away. You only brought the team down the first time.”

  “I have it on good authority that Ricky didn’t do much of anything during the first Cornerstone,” argued Keegan.

  “He’s an elemental and a liability,” said Hannah. “I saw what he did last semester outside Astra. I can’t run those risks with our group. We have to pass. There’s no way I’m risking getting expelled because of some twerp.”

  “Look, Hannah, I’m used to getting threatened, it’s one of the perks that comes with being an elemental in this day and age. But we’re in the same group, so get out of my way,” I said, starting to walk forward again. Fog and Frances, instead of standing down, moved closer to Hannah to block my path, and the pixie didn’t budge. I came to a halt about a foot from her, our eyes clashing. Keegan was standing close behind me.

  “Uh, Ricky,” he said.

  “Yeah?”

  “They’re girls,” said Keegan.

  I blinked while Hannah and her cronies also looked surprised.

  “Yeah?” I said.

  “We can’t fight girls,” Keegan pointed out. Hannah’s face lit with the tiniest bit of amusement.

  “That doesn’t mean we’re going to do what she says,” I said. Keegan was silent long enough to make me wonder before he said, “Um, no.”

  “Hannah, what do you want?”

  “I want you GONE!”

  With that, Hannah pulled out a handful of pixie dust, and before I realized what she was doing, she had thrown it at Keegan and me. The dust floated over our heads and sprinkled itself down our shoulders and over our chests. It drifted down, slower than I would have expected, but the speed didn’t matter. As soon as it touched us, we couldn’t move. As it settled, Hannah and company faded into the darkness.

  “Happy now?” I managed to ask Keegan, through lips that could barely move.

  “E-c-s-t-a-t-i-c,” he said.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Well, well, what do we have here?” said one of the Burble twins as they came trundling up. I couldn’t remember their names, so in my head I calle
d them Idiot One and Dummy One. Their square faces and slack jaws gave them a dopey look, but I knew there was malice hidden beneath the stupidity.

  I tried to shrug, but that forced me to remember that I couldn’t move.

  “Stuck, are you? Who did that to you?” Idiot Burble asked. “Cat got your tongue? Cat got all of you stuck in the middle of the Public grounds? It’s not safe out here at night,” he said with a wolfish grin, as if to imply that he was what was dangerous. If I could have moved I would have scoffed. I knew that Keegan felt the same way.

  This couldn’t last forever, I told myself. I tugged at my feet and hands, but they remained motionless.

  “What should we do with them?” asked Dummy Burble.

  “Um, we could dump water over their heads,” his brother replied.

  “Wow, isn’t that creative,” scoffed his sibling.

  “What are you two doing?” It was Professor Korba, fluttering up to us with his small face scrunched in concern. The Burbles faded away at the sound of his voice.

  “Taking a minute,” said Keegan.

  “Were women involved?” Professor Korba asked knowingly.

  “Yes,” Keegan and I chorused.

  “They are a delightful bunch, but I rather find that once they decide to lock you in place it is time to keep your distance,” Professor Korba said, still fluttering around as he examined us.

  “Ah, here we are,” he said. He pulled a large supply of dust out of one of his pockets and threw it over us along with the observation that “What one pixie does, another can undo.”

  As the dust touched us we were able to move again. I stumbled forward and Korba fluttered out of the way, saying mildly, “Let us proceed. I shall accompany you, lest we meet any more scary ladies along the path.”

  “He isn’t even trying to be funny, is he?” Keegan muttered once we were walking again. My legs felt stiff, as if it had been hours since I’d moved them instead of minutes.

  “I think we have ample evidence that pixies don’t have a great sense of humor,” I muttered.