by A. N. Sage
I stayed in a crouch while I inspected the boy’s body that lay on the gravel below. His chest rose up and down, taking in air.
“It worked!” I hollered, hopping off the bench to stand above him. The toe of my boot kicked his side to make sure I knocked him out before I turned and took off in a dead sprint. In my hand, the amethyst pendant vibrated with the energy of the mind reaper’s memories and I nearly dropped it several times before I reached the main road. I’d have to cleanse the crystal when I got in to rid it of the dark magic it held but that wasn’t my priority at the moment. My legs pumped as I ran down the road, heart still racing from what just happened. Two shadower encounters in just as many days were nothing to laugh at; the residents of Shadowhurst were in deep trouble and it seemed I was their best chance. Just what I needed—to be stuck saving a town that used to burn people like me without a second thought.
Some Secret Room
“I couldn’t sleep at all last night!” Peyton complained while I crammed books from my locker into my backpack. “You?”
She didn’t know the half of it. I don’t think I got so much as a nap in after I got back from the trail. My head was a mess even this morning and I knew it would be hours before my thoughts cleared up. That little asshole sure did a number on me last night. I still couldn’t believe that I got attacked by another shadower; a mind reaper none the less. Things were looking bleaker by the second and I couldn’t imagine what else Shadowhurst had in store for me. What’s next? I find out Silas is a soul sucker? I laughed internally. Silas being a shadower was as likely as me running into fae on the way to first period.
“Not really,” I admitted and zipped up my pack.
“I was thinking.” Peyton smiled. “Since you’re new here, we should totally catch you up on all the weirdness of this town. Sooner rather than later.”
I laughed. “And why’s that?”
“Um, hello? Because we’re like a team of detectives or whatever. You and I are going to figure out what happened to those kids. It’s gonna be fun!”
Fun was exactly what it was not going to be, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her that. The less Peyton knew about what was going on in Shadowhurst, the better. I couldn’t protect everyone but I could at least protect her; my only friend in this stupid town. I tossed my bag over my shoulder and looked down the corridor. “Hey,” I asked and nudged my head toward a large, wood door at the end. “Think the library might have something we can use?”
Peyton’s eyes twinkled and she flashed her pearly whites my way. “Genius, B! Let’s go!”
We ran down the hallway, zigging and zagging to avoid students in our way. When we arrived at the doors, I looked at my friend and winked before turning the handle. The doors opened with a creak and the scent of musty, old books overtook my nostrils. The library at Shadowhurst Academy was a sight for sore eyes; deserted and quiet. A graveyard of knowledge long abandoned.
We walked past a row of shelves full of books with tattered spines that looked to be older than the school itself. As we marched, I ran my fingers down the length of the shelves, letting the ancient leather-bound edges of the books roughen my calloused skin. When we passed the first row, the library opened up to an enormous hall with empty wooden tables lining its center. Each table was adorned with a reading lamp that had more dust on it than some crypts I visited back home on History tours. A few of the tables had stacks of books piled on top and I wondered if they were there to encourage students to read. Aside from Peyton and me, it seemed no one had any use for the library; at least not when they had all the information they needed on their phones and tablets.
“Where’s the librarian?” I whispered, careful not to raise my voice. From what I remembered of libraries, they weren’t exactly places where yelling was encouraged.
“The what?” Peyton asked.
“You know,” I said, “whoever keeps this place under control.”
Peyton looked around and waved her arm around the space, snickering. “Oh, yeah! This place needs someone to keep all these people in line!”
She twirled in a circle and pulled my sleeve.
“Come on! The Shadowhurst stuff is over there!”
I followed my friend past the rows of tables to three large bookcases on the back wall. The floorboards creaked under my weight and I couldn’t help but look around occasionally to make sure we were, in fact, alone in the library. Peyton seemed oblivious to any of the noise from our clumsy steps, her eyes trained on the books ahead. When we reached the cases, she started to pull out tomes and volumes, flipping some open to scan their indexes before piling them into my outstretched arms. By the time she was done, we each had half a dozen books in our hold and I was almost toppling over from their weight. Peyton gestured to a small side table in between the bookcases and we dumped our findings with relief.
I opened the first book in front of me and read the title out loud. “The Grim History of Shadowhurst”
“Oooooh!” Peyton exclaimed, hopping from foot to foot, “That’s a good one! Turn to page forty-seven, you’ll die!”
I followed her instructions and flipped the pages, my eyes landing on a stamped sketch of the school’s main hall. The other buildings on the campus weren’t illustrated and when I looked down the date etched at the bottom, I realized that this sketch was likely done well before the academy existed. Above the main hall, stoic and proud stood the bell tower; though, in this image, there was no bell in its center and no roof overhead. Instead of the large, iron bell that hung in the tower today, the image portrayed a wooden pole that sat secured to the floor.
“What’s this?” I asked, my finger tracing the poll up and down.
“That’s where they did it.”
I jerked my hand back, disgust coursing through my veins. This was it, the place where they strung up my kind before setting them alight. My vision blurred and I had to back away from the book from fear I would pass out. I wanted to rip off the page and burn it with my magic, tear it apart in the same way my people were torn apart for nothing more than existing. Grim History was right, Shadowhurst was nothing but a monstrosity created by close-minded humans that let their fears rule their judgment. My eyes found Peyton’s and she smiled sheepishly my way.
“I told you,” she said, “this town is creepy.”
Reluctantly, I squared my shoulders and turned back to the bookcase, hopeful to find a volume that could give me some clues to the town’s history that didn’t make me want to burn the library to the ground. As I scanned the shelf, my eyes snatched on the spine of a book that felt out-of-place amid the others. There was no writing etched on its side and the leather was not as worn as the rest. I reached to pick up it but the book wouldn’t budge, it was as though it was glued in place. My determination was limitless and I tugged on the spine again, pressing the sole of my boot into the shelf for leverage. Slowly, I could feel it give way before surrendering to my incessant pulling. The book ripped off the shelf and sent me flying back to land on my butt. Next to me, Peyton’s jaw slacked just as a loud, creaking screech rose over us. I watched in astonishment as the bookcase slid on a hidden rail to reveal a secret doorway.
“What in the?” Peyton yelped, running to the door.
“Peyton, wait!” I shouted but my friend was already turning the doorknob before I had a chance to reach her.
The wood of the door scratched against the floorboards and Peyton pushed her way inside and into the darkness before us. I jumped to stand and took off after her.
“What is this place?” I whispered, my arms stretching to find the walls.
“One sec!” Peyton yelled out somewhere not too far from me.
I could hear her cursing and stumbling about in the dark. She hit something and yelped and I swung my head left and right, squinting to see her. There was a sharp click and the room illuminated in dim yellow light. I turned to see Peyton in the center, her fingers wrapped around a hanging light switch.
“Sweet!” She croaked and looked around.
“Don’t know. Some secret room.”
“No kidding, Sherlock,” I growled and crouched next to a book pile.
As soon as my fingers reached the books, my heartbeat sped up. My sweatshirt felt suddenly constricting and the walls seemed to have inched closer. The energy in the room shifted and I could feel the moonstone of my ring pulse against my skin. Even the amethyst pendant on my neck burned and I had to pull it through my tee to keep it from touching my chest. With unease, I pulled out one book from the stacks and carried it to the center of the room and closer to the light. My hands shook and my palms clammed against the binding as I opened the book to the first page.
“Holy actual crap!” Peyton yelled out but her words were lost to me.
I glued my eyes to the worn-out, cursive font that spelled the title of the wretched book in my hands. “A Witch Hunters Guide to Entrapment,” I read aloud.
“Oh my god!” Peyton screeched, “You know what this means?”
I had no idea how to respond. I knew exactly what it meant. Shadowhurst Academy was not what it seemed on the outside. This place would be the end of me.
My So Called Case Workers
The rest of the school day passed in a blur. I got at least ten messages from Peyton between the time we left the library to the time I rode up the driveway to the Chandler residence. My white tee was soaked with sweat and my hair was a mess and I couldn’t wait to get into the guesthouse and reset my energy. Finding the hidden room in the library was like stepping into a minefield. I felt like every step I took in Shadowhurst only led to more questions, more secrets, and so much more danger. How long had that room been in the library? Years? Decades? Worse, was it still in use today, and if it was, who used it?
Questions raced through my mind as I walked the bike around the side of the house to park in the garage. Was the academy just a front for witch hunters? If it was, I was done for.
I climbed the steps to the front door and brushed my hair back behind my ears before entering. All I could hope for was that the Chandlers weren’t home and I could hide in my room and process what I just discovered. Unfortunately, hoping had never done me any good and as soon as I walked in, I heard hushed tones rise from the living room. I tiptoed down the hall, trying not to attract attention to myself to avoid interrupting whatever company the Chandlers were hosting.
“Billie, darling?” Thomas’s voice echoed behind me just as I reached the main stairs. “Come in here, we have guests.”
I rolled my eyes, plastered on a fake smile, and marched into the living room. When I entered, my lips pursed and my mouth dried. There, in the middle of the Chandlers pristine living room, sat the four high priestesses. My arms felt too heavy for my body and I let them drop at my sides as my eyes moved from one priestess to the other. The room smelled like a potent mixture of a dozen different herbs and I could hear the jingle of crystals as the high priestesses shifted in their seats to see me walk in. My magic reached for theirs, clinging to the stones and herbs tucked into every orifice of their attires. There was so much magic in the room I couldn’t stand it.
Rhiamon and Luna sat on one of the sofas, their hands entwined as they often had been. Luna’s small, rune-covered hand was almost obliterated from view by Rhiamon’s muscled grasp but somehow, it didn’t feel out of place. Those two had been best friends since as long as I can remember, so much so, that I often wondered if their relationship was more than platonic. If it was, no one spoke of it and I kept my mouth shut for fear I might entice Sebyl’s anger. Rhiamon grinned, flipping her long braids to one side to reveal her signature black leather choker encrusted with crystals. Beside her, Luna’s compact frame fidgeted and the sound of the bells adorning her long, lace gown filled the room.
To their right, Theodora perched at the edge of a loveseat, her bright blue hair teased higher than a skyscraper above her head. As always, she donned an over the top outfit made of feathers and silk, all in the same shade as her hair. After Rhiamon, Theodora was a favorite of mine from all the high priestesses. Mostly because she reminded me more of an actress from an old Hollywood film than a witch. Her eccentric personality carried the room and I remember watching her in awe as witches huffed and puffed around her while she chattered away before some of our rituals.
But today, it was Sebyl’s eyes that I could not shake. The high priestess commanded the room, as she had often done; it was no wonder the witches followed her lead without question. Sebyl’s cat-lined eyes burrowed into me as she reached a black-gloved finger to brush a loose strand of her blunt black bob into place. The edges of her lips curled into a smile and I could almost hear the unspoken words flow through her false smile. Keep your mouth shut and behave.
“Oh,” I choked out, “hello.”
“Billie!” Imala clasped her hands in excitement, “Isn’t it wonderful to get a visit from your caseworkers?”
“Splendid,” I hissed and walked over to sit across from Sybil, my gaze still focused on the deep red lipstick of her forced smile.
The white leather of the couch swallowed me whole and I wished I picked a different spot to sit in. With the fabric wrapped around me like a cocoon, I felt more like a restless child than the witch I was.
“Wilhemina, dear,” Theodora cooed, “you seem to be settling in well. The Chandlers have told us such wonderful things about you.”
I cringed at the use of my full name; it made me feel like a kid in trouble.
“They have?” I asked and arched an eyebrow to Imala.
“Of course, darling!” She said, “We love having you around!”
My eyes snapped back to the high priestesses. The tension in the room was palpable and I knew that whatever they had to say would not be something I wanted to hear. Maybe I was wrong. They might simply be here to check up on me to make sure I was doing okay. Doubtful.
“Thomas, Imala,” I mumbled. “Would you mind giving me a moment with my… caseworkers in private?”
The Chandlers exchanged glances. There was a long pause before they got up from their seats in unison and exited the room, leaving me alone with the priestesses. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see Luna twirl a raw amethyst in her fingers, her wolf’s grin spreading as their backs disappeared.
“Luna!” I snapped, “Don’t use magic on them!”
The high priestess turned her lavender eyes my way and tucked the crystal into a pouch that hung from her wrist. “Careful, Wilhemina. You don’t get to make demands, not after what you did to land yourself here.”
I ground my teeth to oblivion and bit on the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming. I wasn’t a child and I didn’t need them here checking in on me. I knew what I was doing and somehow, I got through this total mess even with the lack of support they’ve shown me. This was ridiculous!
“So,” I said after forcing myself to calm down, “was anyone going to tell me that this place used to burn us to the ground, or was that just a fun little mystery you wanted me to solve by myself?”
Sebyl and Theodora looked to Luna and Rhiamon, their faces blank.
“That’s what I thought.” I scowled, crossing my legs to sit a little higher. “So what now?”
“What do you mean?” Sebyl asked.
It was the first time she’d spoken to me since they shipped me off and the cool tone of her voice gutted me. Sebyl was always frank and straightforward but she was never cold. She wanted to teach me, to turn me into the powerful witch I knew I could be. But now, her stare was rigid and full of… Well, I wasn’t sure what but whatever it was, I didn’t like it.
“I mean, I’m sure you don’t expect me
to stay here,” I said.
Sebyl narrowed her eyes my way and smiled, though the gesture barely reached her eyes. “Why would we not expect that?”
“Um, let’s see, because I’m a witch in a town that hates witches.”
“Wilhemina, please,” Theodora interrupted, “don’t be so dramatic. It’s a quaint insignificant town with a sordid history, the world is full of them.”
“Not my world,” I hissed under my breath.
Slowly, Sybil rose to stand, taking a few steps until she towered over me. Her tall frame obscured the light falling in from the windows and I could see the lines of her aged face grow deeper as she frowned. She placed her hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “We simply wanted to make sure you are getting along fine here and staying out of trouble. As we had instructed.”
“Kind of hard to do when you tossed me into a witch-hunting school,” I blurted, immediately regretting my decision to speak.
Sybil staggered back and Luna reached for Rhiamon’s other hand.
“A what?” Theodora asked, baffled.
“I found a room,” I explained, “in the library. A room no one wanted to be found I think. It’s full of books on witch-hunting. Instructions on the worst things. Goddess, they even have an entire section on weapons to use against us and how to spot a witch in a crowd.”
The high priestesses exhaled in unison, their eyes finding mine in an instant. To my surprise, Sybil stepped in and lowered to sit next to me. Her long fingers found my shoulder again though this time, she pulled me into a hug. My body relaxed into her. My hands cupped in my lap and I looked at my dirty boots before looking up at her with tears in my eyes.
“There’s more,” I whispered. “I’ve been attacked by two shadowers. The mind reaper almost killed me. I can’t stay here, Sebyl. It isn’t safe.”
Sebyl looked from me to Theodora then back to me again. “This is very interesting indeed.”
“Interesting?” I pushed back from her, “That’s what you have to say about this?”
