But something sat by the side of the girls' stairs. Something out of place and...wrong.
Seph came to a stop. "Is this some kind of joke?"
I didn't know, because I still didn’t know what I was seeing. It looked like a pile of black cloaks from this angle. I came closer, but Steph stayed behind.
"I don't think you should, Dawn."
"Why? It's just someone's dirty laun—" I stopped short, my stomach kicking in on itself.
On the side of the pile, a pair of arms jutted from the sleeves at odd angles, the elbows pointed straight up. Not someone's dirty laundry. Not at all.
Sweat broke out on my body, making me feel hot and cold at the same. My mouth dried up, leaving a bitter taste and sticking my tongue to the roof. What exactly was I looking at here?
I crept closer, still clinging to a sliver of hope that this wasn't real, that it was staged. But reality bled that hope away. I sucked in a breath, a horrible sense of dread dragging over my flesh. A red curl peeked from one of the folds in the cloak and ran along a line between the stones like blood.
Seph must've seen on my face what I saw because her voice shook violently as she said, "Dawn..."
I knelt, my whole body stiff and jerky, removed from what I was seeing because I still couldn’t make sense of it. It was morning, arguably the busiest time of the day...and no one had seen whatever it was I was seeing? It didn't add up, which was why I peeled back part of the cloak.
My heartbeat stalled. Sounds escaped from the back of my throat, parts of gasps and chokes and words that had no meaning. This wasn't real. Vickie's eyes stared up, glazed with death and staring up at nothing. but it was the angle of her head, the awful twist of her neck that seared to the backs of my eyelids. Her head lay on the floor, her arms held above her...and the rest of her body that had appeared to be a pile of laundry...
Pressing my lips together tightly, I lifted the hem of her cloak—and immediately dropped it and shrank back.
Seph wretched and stumbled to her hands and knees. I pressed my hands to the cold stone floor while the sight in front of me threatened to summon up everything I'd ever eaten.
Vickie had been bent backwards, nearly snapped in half. Her pelvis jutted up, and her legs, shoulders, and head supported her like a tripod.
What had happened here? I gazed upward, not really seeing anything at first, and then blinked at the stairwell. The same stairwell she'd dangled me off of. Had someone done that to her?
I pulled in breath after breath, fighting for each one, because the air seemed to have thinned. Ramsey had been there last night. That couldn't be a coincidence. But why her? Had she gotten in his way this morning? Or was this someone else’s doing?
The Gathering Room's doors opened, and out came Headmistress Millington. She slammed to a halt and stared at the horrible scene in front of her.
"What—?" She covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes brimming with tears.
"I-I..." I shook my head, unable to do anything but kneel there and tremble.
"We found her," Seph whispered to the floor, still on her hands and knees. "We found her like this."
The headmistress pulled her hands down to her sides and fisted them, her shoulders heaving. "To your room. The both of you. I don't want this to spread before I know what happened." Her voice tremored.
Somehow, I found a way to put my legs underneath me, and with the wall of the stairwell's help, I climbed to my feet. My mind buzzed too loudly. My chest pinched too much with nothing but shallow breaths. My movement toward the steps felt like I was wading through honey. All of it was eerily familiar, almost exactly how it had been like after I'd found Leo dead. The shock numbing certain parts of me, but not the ones that hurt the worst. And the face of a killer firmly rooted in my mind. Because if not him, then who? Sure, Vickie probably had enemies for days, but how many of them could kill someone?
Besides, Ramsey had been there while she dangled me from the very steps she'd fallen from.
The killing rage refueled like I was currently reliving my worst nightmare. I needed to go to him. Ask him questions and then cut him open.
Seph clasped my hand on the way upstairs, her presence a comfort despite my vicious thoughts. When we got to our room, we crossed to our respective beds and sat in stunned silence. After batting at Seph’s cloak strings to try to get her to play, Nebbles gave up and fell asleep on her boot.
“Do you think it was Ramsey?” Seph asked quietly.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
Seph released a long breath. "I can't stay here anymore. I need to go if it’s going to be like this."
Maybe she was looking for my acceptance, but I couldn't give it to her. She had every right to leave here, more than anyone. But what if I could make it better for her? Today, before the one-week clock ran out? Find answers and erase the threat so she could focus on her necromancy instead of everything else? I owed her that much, and more.
AT LUNCHTIME, A RUSH of shrill voices came down the hall instead of heading to the Gathering Room. Then something thudded against our door in quick succession.
It was Morrissey, balancing three plates of food between two hands.
"Why is no one going to lunch?" I asked, taking two of the plates from her.
She cocked her head at the hallway as more tense voices floated through.
Vickie. Vickie Vickie Vickie. Everyone now knew.
“Thanks for this." I nodded and handed off a plate to Seph, who curled her lip up at it. It was piled with creamy mashed potatoes, seasoned green beans, buttery rolls, and what looked like braised lamb, her favorite. Some of my favorites too. Too bad I’d never eat again after what happened this morning.
Morrissey raised her brows, like maybe I was forgetting something.
"Uh, you want to come in here and eat?" I asked.
She shook her head and frowned, and as she did so, her gaze strayed toward Seph's desk behind me and to the side. She froze, completely immobile, and I turned to look. One of Seph's dolls lay on top surrounded by stacks of books, this one with wavy red hair. Vickie’s hair. And the doll’s legs and arms and back were...twisted.
Without thinking, I snatched the doll off the desk and stuffed it into one of my robe's pockets. Then immediately regretted it at the glint of suspicion in Morrissey's sharp black eyes.
Real smooth. No one would ever suspect a thing of me, especially if I kept that up, and I hadn't even done anything to Vickie. My conscience was slipping as if I already had blood on my hands.
But who had done that to the doll...and to Vickie? Not Seph. She wouldn’t go that far. Besides, she’d been with me the whole morning.
"Well, thanks again." I shut the door in Morrissey’s face maybe a little too quickly, then turned.
Seph sat on her bed deflated once again, seeming to have zoned out to what had just happened.
"Hungry?" I asked as I crossed to my desk. Had she even seen the doll? I should’ve showed it to her, but the dark cloud hovering over her stopped me.
"No."
"Same."
"I think I might go see if Morrissey will read my fortune from one of my teeth."
"Yeah. Go. What else are we going to do?"
"Think. And I'm so tired of thinking." She stood and crossed to the door, the torchlight dancing over her bald head, then paused. "See you in a bit?"
I nodded. "I'll be here. And just one tooth, okay? I like yours, and I don’t care if that sounds creepy."
She crossed toward me then and threw her arms around me, crushing me to her. "Thank you."
I hugged her right back, so tight that maybe I could forget everything if I squeezed hard enough. “I’ll compliment you on your teeth any time.”
“That’s not what I meant, dork.” Her voice shook as she pulled away and swiped at her cheeks. Her big dark eyes sparkled as she looked at me. “If I do leave here, I’ll be leaving the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” A small smile tugged at her mouth. “I’m talking about
you, Dawn.”
Then she left, leaving me all alone to my thoughts. I hadn’t anticipated making friends while I was here. I’d thought my need for vengeance had completely soured my carefree self and made me a stranger in my own skin. How wrong I was.
I owed it to her to keep her safe. I touched my fingers to the dead man’s hand in my pocket.
Open.
I could end this right now. In a way, this was perfect timing. The juniors were confined to their quarters, too, so with Seph awake and with Morrissey, I was free to shadow-walk.
I pulled out my desk drawer to retrieve my death charms from the velvet bag tucked inside a book—and froze. They were gone. I'd had about twenty of them in here, and every single one was missing.
My mind automatically bounced to Seph again. Had she taken them? But no, she would've asked first. I touched a hesitant finger to the doll in my pocket as a hot, oily feeling sank down into the pit of my stomach. The doll hadn't been lying in view this morning. I would've remembered something like that. Did someone else know Seph's form of doll magic and that was what had killed Vickie? Because Seph wouldn't have done it. She wouldn't. Even when Ramsey had been trying to subdue me in the library, she hadn't really hurt him.
So who had been in our room? The same person who kept rousing Seph out of her sleep? Ramsey or...or Ryze?
I pinched my lips together and whirled toward the door, my mind made up.
It was time for answers.
And if I got the wrong ones, it was time for punishment.
Chapter Fourteen
Outside my door, I nearly had a heart attack as a raven landed in a flurry of wings. It had a roll of parchment in its beak, and it set it down at my feet before flying off again.
Bending, I picked it up and unrolled it.
Dear Dawn,
Thank you so much for the lovely Parents’ Weekend at White Magic Academy. We had a great time.
Please visit when you can.
Love,
Dad
I blinked at the letter, none of it registering at all. White Magic Academy. Parents’ Weekend. But...I wasn’t there. I read the letter again. And again. It was written in Dad’s handwriting, but...I was here. How could they have seen me somewhere that I wasn’t? I’d written to him, told him and Mom not to come. But they had and they’d visited...me. What in seven hells was happening?
I was losing my mind. That was it, wasn’t it? Or was this Ramsey doing a little psychological warfare before he wiped me from existence?
The arrogant prick needed to die.
Crumpling the scroll up, I stashed it in my doll pocket, and making sure the hall was empty, slipped my hand into the dead man’s.
“Umbra deambulatio,” I whispered.
I melted into the shadows until I became one, the hallway’s black stone the perfect camouflage for a woman with a hidden knife and a deadly purpose.
But before I left, I needed to make one quick stop. I headed left toward Morrissey and Echo's room and then stopped, low voices drifting from within. With my shadowy finger, I drew a protection symbol on the door that according to Professor Turtle, would blare an alarm if certain tensions like from fright or anger were detected. If something happened in there while I was stalking Ramsey, someone needed to come running and help. It wasn't that I didn't trust Morrissey and Echo. Not exactly. It was that I didn't trust everyone else. Especially Ramsey. Especially the Diabolicals who could quite possibly drift over here while I shadow-walked over there.
Once I finished the last squiggled triangle, I left, and I didn't look back. At the foot of the stairs in the entryway, my form recoiled as I neared the space where Vickie's body had been. I quickly flitted around it even though all traces of what happened had been totally erased. My mind filled in all of it with vivid detail anyway, and a tremor rippled through my darkness like I was made up of ink.
Except for a few stragglers striding up the stairs with steaming plates of food, the entire school seemed deserted of students. Inside the Gathering Room, however, the professors sat alone at the student tables, none of them eating but all of them talking at once.
“What could have done that to her?” Mrs. Tentorville, the librarian, asked, her voice nearing hysterical. “And not a trace of magic anywhere on her. There’s no way her injuries resulted from a simple fall though.”
Professor Woolery sniffled. “This has to be related to Henry Wadluck, right? Is he dead too?”
"We need to close the school down until we know who did this," Professor Lipskin said, and beat his fist against the table.
"The Ministry of Law Enforcement are on their way. We will do what they tell us to do," Headmistress Millington fired back. "Vickie's family is also on their way here, and we need to be respectful of them by not getting too emotional ourselves.”
Her words speared me from behind and penetrated through to my conscience. I was about to make their jobs so much harder if—when—they discovered another dead student. Never mind that though. It had to be done.
Outside the junior boys' door, I paused. I still didn't know where Ramsey’s room was, so a little peeping would be necessary. Hopefully no one would be naked. Or hell, let them all be naked. What did I care? Ramsey, too, so he'd be even more vulnerable. I pushed through the dorm’s door and drifted in and out of several empty rooms. The next room had one lone boy in it, and it stank. Badly. Even with my nose a shadow, my whole sense of smell coiled in on itself. I got out of there fast.
In the room directly across the hall, I found him.
He sat at his desk, his back facing me, and he stared at the wall. As one might do when they hear their killer slide underneath their door, apparently.
"I wondered when you'd show up," he said, without turning. Without moving.
An edge of doubt scraped over my awareness as I reformed. If he knew I was here, why not try to stop me? I didn't trust it, and I sure as hell didn't trust him. I searched the space between us for any protection symbols or devil's traps on the walls and floors, but there was nothing. Nothing visible anyway.
I kept quiet, daring him to make a move, and retrieved my knife from my boot. My whole body was coiled to spring, yet somehow calm. Ready. I’d been waiting five months for this moment, so I’d better be ready.
"I know why you're here." He scooted his chair back and started to rise slowly, then turned to face me.
It was the first time I’d seen him without his cloak, yet he still wore all black. The sleeves of his buttoned shirt were rolled up to his elbows, the shirt itself tucked into his pants and hugging his broad shoulders. He didn't seem worried or scared in the least, his stance relaxed, his face carved from stone except for that haughty eyebrow of his half hidden behind his messy dark hair.
"That makes two of us." I adjusted my grip on my knife.
His gray gaze flicked to the knife and back without even a flinch. "Will you let me explain?"
"For your sake, I’d say that’s a damn good idea.”
That eyebrow rose a fraction higher as he regarded me coolly for a moment. "Do you know who Ryze is?"
"Of course I do," I snapped.
"Then you know people are helping him by trying to activate the Stones of Amaria."
"Yes, and you're supposed to be protecting the onyx stone. You and the Diabolicals."
"You've been doing your homework, I see." He tipped his chin up and then clasped his hands behind his back.
I homed in on his every move. "Well, I didn't just go to the library to petrify you that day."
"Ah," he said with a sigh. "And I suppose you found most of the pages ripped out?"
"Was that you?" I fired back.
"No, it wasn't me. Someone else at this school who’s helping Ryze.” His jaw pulsed, and something passed behind his eyes like a shadow. “Someone working against the Diabolicals.”
“To get to the onyx stone.”
A nod.
“Someone like you,” I said, my tone deadly as poison.
He gazed
down at the space between us, the torchlight from the sconces sharpening the cut of his cheekbones and jaw. “That first night when I caught you up here, you looked at me with...so much hatred, more than I could even imagine, so I did some digging.” He returned his thunderstorm gaze to me, and his face softened a fraction. “I found out who you are. I found out about your brother, Leo."
My stomach twisted one way at the mention of Leo, and my mind went the other. I took a step toward him. "What do you mean you found out about him? What did you find? When?"
Slowly, he loosened his clasped hands behind him and brought his arms to his sides again. "I learned that he was here for an interview for a professor position, and then he came back, even after he turned the offer down." He tilted his head, studying me. "Do you know Tylvia Snider? She's a sophomore?"
Huh? That was random. "No."
"That night. That night when Vickie attacked you...” He swallowed, something flickering across his expression other than torchlight. “Tylvia showed me glimpses of visions of your brother in her crystal ball. One was the second time he came here."
Crystal ball magic was rare since most people only saw light refracting and bouncing, but it was known to be a highly accurate form of divination for those who could use it.
"And?" I said.
“He was talking about sleepwalking, that he felt something was calling him back here."
My lungs squeezed together painfully, and I realized I hadn't drawn a breath in a while. "That's what Headmistress Millington said."
"Dawn.”
I flinched at his use of my name.
“I never met your brother. I swear to you. He was a complete stranger in Tylvia's visions, but I think something, someone, latched onto him while he was here the first time and didn't let go."
Just as they had Seph. Both good people with hearts as big as their heads.
"Who?" I croaked. “Why?”
"Someone inside this school. Someone helping Ryze get the onyx stone to activate it,” he said. “It's guarded by powerful wards and hexes, but there's one problem."
I arched an eyebrow. "Just one?"
Necromancer Academy: Book 1 Page 14
