Ghoul Problems

by Sarina Dorie

  A student held a notebook out to Vega. “Ms. Suarez helped me translate this spell after school yesterday. Do you want to see my notebook?”

  “Not really.” Vega shoved the book out of her way.

  Another student pressed a book into Vega’s ribs. “I know Ms. Suarez isn’t a murderer.”

  “She’s just using a glamour to hide her leg injury,” another girl said.

  Vega hadn’t used the amulet long enough to examine Ms. Suarez’s leg, but yara sirens were known for having a disfigured leg or sometimes only one leg. That would make sense as to why Ms. Suarez used a staff as a cane, though it didn’t reveal her reason for appearing as a hag.

  Vega halted. “How do you know about her leg?”

  The gaggle of squawking girls silenced.

  “Well?” Vega demanded.

  Mindy Kleps, a junior Vega had failed first semester, toed the ground. “Sherry told us after Henrietta let her wear her amulet for a minute.”

  Demeter Winters elbowed her friend, who silenced. Vega snorted. She didn’t doubt Demeter wanted them to keep silent about the amulet she had stolen—especially since she thought she had it in her possession. Demeter stepped aside, and Vega passed them.

  The students fell away from Vega as her long strides took her up the stairs to her classroom. She had much to think over—and new lessons to prepare now that her desk was in ruins.

  She should have known she wouldn’t be granted a respite after the way her morning had started.

  Henrietta sat in Vega’s classroom, eating Vega’s breakfast.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Burn, Baby, Burn

  Vega let out a stream of curse words that barely summarized how she felt catching a student eating her breakfast. It only made it slightly worse that she was an escapee.

  Henrietta’s eyes went wide. “Um, hi, Ms. Bloodmire.”

  “What are you doing?” Vega waved a hand at her breakfast and then her desk and back to the teenager, at a loss for any words that didn’t start with f.

  “I didn’t do that,” Henrietta said quickly. “After I got out of the bathroom, Mr. Gordmayer wasn’t there anymore. I followed the smoke to see what the commotion was about. I guess I’m not the only student here who likes fires.” She shrugged. “Everyone rushed off to Ms. Suarez’s room afterward. I thought I would wait here until you got back.” She ate a spoonful of oatmeal.

  “You do realize that this places you at a scene of arson.” Vega flicked a hand toward her desk.

  “Oh.” Henrietta’s gaze left her appropriated breakfast. “I didn’t think about that. I just wanted to ask you if you got my amulet back.”

  Cold rage coursed through Vega’s veins. “You have the audacity to ask me about your amulet when you are sitting in my classroom eating my breakfast?”

  Henrietta looked down at the oatmeal. “Oh, sorry. No one brought me dinner last night. I just assumed no one wanted it.” She pushed the tray away from herself. “You can have the rest of it.”

  “No. Go ahead. Finish your breakfast. It might be your last.” Vega supposed she should have escorted Henrietta out and returned her to the principal or the detention room, but if she did, she suspected the principal would want Vega to fill out an incident report. That was the last thing Vega had time for.

  Truly, Henrietta was her least concern.

  Vega surveyed the remains of her desk. She had a mountain of work to somehow make up, including grades. She would have to collect notebooks from students and regrade everything. Whoever the culprit was who had burned her desk in order to destroy the book wasn’t just a murdering criminal, but a vile degenerate who had no appreciation for how much time and care she took telling students their wards were too paltry to protect them from malicious Fae or Witchkin.

  Her suspicions flitted back to Malisha. If it turned out she was behind this, Vega would dig Malisha’s grave herself. After she murdered her.

  A student stepped inside the classroom. “Whoa! What happened here?” The girl looked to Henrietta, eyes going wide. She glanced back at the desk.

  Probably students were going to think Henrietta had done it. Vega didn’t particularly care if they did.

  “Get out!” Vega pointed to the door. “I’m not ready for students.” She glanced at the clock. First period homeroom was approaching too soon. “I get five more minutes to prepare in peace.”

  Vega waved a hand at the door, a burst of kinetic energy bursting out of her and slamming the door in the student’s face. It wasn’t as graceful as the principal’s magic, but it got the point across.

  She wasn’t ready for class, nor was she ready to stop thinking about the mystery of the notebook. Someone had destroyed it for a reason. She had a feeling Henrietta might know something useful, and Vega needed to know now before the principal expelled the girl.

  Vega snapped her fingers at Henrietta. “Did you see something with the amulet that someone might not like? Did you say something to give you an enemy?”

  Henrietta swallowed her oatmeal. “I don’t know.”

  “What did Sherry say about Ms. Suarez when she used the amulet to look at her?”

  “I don’t remember.” Henrietta shrugged. “She probably said she was pretty but had one leg. That’s what I remember.”

  “Did Sherry say anything about anyone else? Ms. Bane?” If it wasn’t Ms. Suarez, it had to be Malisha.

  “No. Sherry mentioned some of the girls were ugly without makeup or glamour.” Henrietta sipped at the coffee Vega had prepared for herself. “I saw Ms. Bane has devil horns under a glamour, but I didn’t repeat that. Sherry might have.”

  That was a blatant exaggeration. Vega knew Malisha didn’t actually have devil horns. Unless she’d transformed. More likely Henrietta wasn’t a good reporter of information.

  Henrietta set the coffee down, making a face at the mug.

  It was black, without sugar. Like Vega’s soul.

  Vega smiled. If she wasn’t going to get to enjoy her coffee, she was pleased no one else would either.

  “What could you have seen that would make someone want to frame you to get rid of you?” Vega asked.

  Henrietta’s shoulders sagged. “I don’t know. Is that what you think this is about? I made someone mad because I used the amulet, and they want me to get kicked out of school?”

  They would do far more than that to Henrietta. If the principal had suspected her of murder as she’d stated, she would report her to the Witchkin Council. Minor or not, she would be tried for a crime that evidence indicated she had committed. Often the Witchkin Council acted without trial.

  She would be put to death.

  Tears filled Henrietta’s eyes. “I can’t afford to get expelled again. My brother—”

  “Focus on the task at hand.” Vega stomped closer, looming over the girl. “You aren’t being useful at all. The least you could do is help me come up with evidence to prove your innocence. You obviously saw someone’s secret. Fess up.”

  “Everyone has secrets.” Henrietta avoided Vega’s gaze.

  “Do you know my secrets?” Vega demanded.

  Henrietta squirmed in her chair. “I know you don’t have a healthy complexion. Your skin is naturally gray. That probably means you’re sick or cursed.”

  At least that was all she’d concluded. Vega tapped her foot. “Does anyone else know?”

  “I guess Sherry did if she saw you when I let her wear the amulet, but I don’t think you were in the cafeteria, so probably not.”

  Without her coffee, fatigue tugged at Vega’s sharp wit and acute meter for unicorn malarkey. She was too decaffeinated to deal with Henrietta or murderers.

  Knowing it was her civic duty, Vega returned Henrietta to the detention room in the administration wing. She found Principal Gordmayer in her office, filling out forms.

  “I returned Henrietta to the detention room. She was with me.” Vega started to edge back before the principal roped her i
nto doing anything she didn’t have time to do. “She had nothing to do with the fire as it was already in progress when your husband forgot to babysit her.”

  The principal stood. “You’ll need to fill out an incident report for—”

  Vega waved without looking back. “Sorry. I have first period homeroom. I’m supposed to be in my classroom. Toodles.”

  There, civic duty done.

  * * *

  Vega returned to her classroom, finding her first-period students standing in a circle around the smoking cinders of wood that had been her desk. Usually she would have chided them for entering without her permission when the door was closed, even if she had left it unlocked in her haste, but she was too tired to remember if she had closed the door. Without coffee, the magic elixir of life, it was going to be a rough day.

  Vega would have started in on chiding the students as soon as she entered, but Siobhan was kneeling in the ashes, covered with soot. Her hair had turned white, and her eyes sunken and black. Her mouth was open, and it looked like she was wailing, but no sound came out. Vega realized in all the commotion of the morning that Siobhan’s familiar had been on her desk when it had been set on fire.

  She’d forgotten about Siobhan being switched to her first period homeroom class.

  “Son of a succubus,” Vega swore. If it wasn’t one problem she was dealing with, it was another.

  Siobhan opened her mouth wider, but sound still didn’t come out. She pulled at her hair. The last thing Vega needed was a hormonal teenager who believed her future husband was dead.

  Vega pointed a finger in accusation at her students. “Did someone hex her mouth?”

  One of the girls stared at her polished shoe, whispering. “It’s just a silencing spell. I can stop it if you want, but the wailing is pretty loud, and we didn’t all want to die from hearing it.”

  Siobhan was fortunate she had a power they feared rather than one that simply disgusted them.

  Vega didn’t particularly want to hear a banshee scream either, but mostly because it was annoying. She snapped her fingers at Siobhan. “That will be enough of that, young lady.”

  Siobhan closed her mouth, but tears continued to spill from her eyes.

  Vega’s carefully crafted lesson plans were destroyed, her desk in ruins, and her class on the brink of chaos. She would not allow conniving murderers to thwart the learning that needed to happen at this school.

  “Does everyone remember that research assignment I gave you that is due in a few weeks?” Vega straightened, exuding the calm authority they had come to know and rely on. “Out of the kindness of my heart, I’ve decided to postpone our study skills lesson and give you a day in class to do research in the library.”

  Most homeroom teachers didn’t give students assignments, but Vega wasn’t most teachers. Obviously.

  Vega attempted a kind smile to show she was in control and merciful, like she had planned this specifically for them. If ever there was a time to impose on the librarian with an unscheduled trip with her class, it seemed like arson was a good excuse. Leah Chamapiwa would be furious, but Vega didn’t care.

  Vega pointed her wand at the students to show she meant business. “I expect you to use this opportunity wisely and not squander it by gossiping with peers, trying to slip out without notice, or check out useless periodicals that will not benefit your endeavors in this project or life. What am I always telling you is the most important study?”

  An overly enthusiastic sophomore raised her hand but didn’t wait to be called upon. “Self-defense against our enemies!”

  Vega usually would have chastised the girl for blurting out the answer, but she didn’t have the energy for her usual reprimands. “And who are our enemies?”

  “The Fae who want to enslave us!” one girl said.

  “Evil Witchkin who want to drain us.”

  Vega nodded. “Good. You’re learning. Anyone can be your enemy.” Even their supposed friends. “You have one job while you are here at Lady of the Lake School for Girls: learning. You don’t have to worry about taxes, impressing boys, or finding allies who will protect you from Fae who are stronger than you.” Those worries awaited after graduation. “All you have to do is focus on learning—and learn the best you can. Out of the kindness of my heart, I am giving you an opportunity to do this.” Vega pointed at Matilda Cypress. “You will escort the class to the library and take attendance for me once you are there to ensure everyone has arrived.” Vega pointed to Celia Gomez. “You will inform the librarian the class will be there all period, and I will be arriving momentarily.” Vega knew Leah well enough to know sending a student as messenger would soften the blow of the message—at least on herself.

  Students filtered out the door. Siobhan didn’t leave. Vega hadn’t expected her to do so.

  The banshee’s mouth wasn’t open anymore, so Vega suspected it was safe to undo the charm her peer had used to dampen the sound. It was such a simple spell, Vega simply waved it aside, and it disintegrated.

  Siobhan wiped her dark eyes and sniffled. Her hair was still white and her face gaunt. It wouldn’t take much to set her off on another wailing fit. Vega was going to have to use creativity and cunning she didn’t particularly feel up to expending at the moment to ensure this student didn’t have a breakdown.

  “Tell me . . . you started screaming after you saw my desk, not before. Is that correct?” Vega asked.

  Siobhan nodded.

  “Which means you did not use powers, and thus, that scream did not predict anyone’s death, including your familiar’s? Am I right?” Vega arched an eyebrow at the girl. “You did not scream earlier this morning when the fire was in progress?”

  “No.” Siobhan hesitated. “But Prince Charming . . . he was on your desk. The fire would have killed him. . . .”

  “You assumed he died because you saw my desk.” Vega would have assumed the same. This would have been a perfect opportunity to point out to the girl that her prince was in fact a frog, not a transformed human whose death she would have foretold. But Siobhan was still clinging to the hope that this was the love of her life, and he was still alive. As much as Vega hated allowing this naive girl to believe such a falsehood, it wasn’t her job to steal her youthful innocence, crush her spirit, and tell her the truth.

  Her parents could do that.

  Instead, Vega employed one of her most practiced skills. She lied. “Last night I reversed the curse on Prince Charming.”

  “You did?” Siobhan’s eyes widened. “But how? He was cursed by a Fae.”

  “I’m a powerful Witchkin.” Vega shrugged with feigned indifference. “I’ll be a Merlin-class Celestor someday—after I take the exam to prove my brilliance. It wasn’t that difficult to break the spell.”

  The white tips of Siobhan’s hair shifted to auburn. “Wow. What did he look like? Was he handsome? Where is he?”

  The devil was in the details—which Vega didn’t have. She used her favorite tactic—after lying—distracting with questions. “Don’t you know? I thought he was your boyfriend.”

  Siobhan’s cheeks flushed pink, and color returned to her complexion. “Well, sort of. I mean, not exactly. I wanted him to be my boyfriend. I asked him if he would be my boyfriend, and he ribbetted, so I took that as a yes.”

  Vega crossed her arms. “But you didn’t meet him in person? As a human?”

  “We were pen pals—before the Fae got him and his family. He’s lucky my da was able to recognize him after being transformed.” Siobhan rubbed her ash-covered hands over her school uniform, leaving grimy streaks over the plaid skirt and sweater. “That was back before the Fae got my da too.”

  Could it be that this child’s parents had concocted this story as an elaborate fantasy, something akin to the tooth fairy or Santa Claus? Vega had never imagined there were any parents who might have been worse than hers in all their good intentions to “help” their child.

  On the bright side, this ma
de Vega’s job so much easier. “I hate to be the one to tell you, but Prince Charming is far too old for you.”

  Horror filled Siobhan’s green eyes. “How old is he? Eighteen?”

  Vega shook her head.

  “Twenty-five?” Revulsion filled Siobhan’s face.

  Vega shook her head again, trying not to laugh. Did she truly think twenty-five was old? Vega supposed there was a time only a few years ago that she had thought anyone over thirty was ancient.

  “Thirty?” Siobhan squealed. “Please say he isn’t thirty. I can’t have a thirty-year-old for a boyfriend. That’s gross.”

  “He was thirty-four. Far too old for you, just as you said. I informed him of that last night.”

  Siobhan nodded solemnly. “Where is he now?”

  “He couldn’t very well stay at a girl’s school. I sent him on his way into the forest. It’s for the best. He has some kind of princely quest he must perform, battling the Fae who did this to him.” Vega didn’t want to give the girl false hope that he would be coming back, but she didn’t want to crush her dreams either. The balance needed for dealing with the fragile teenage psyche was more precarious than handling potassium in an alchemy class with water Elementia near. “He acknowledged that he owes a debt to you for your kindness in caring for him, but unfortunately, he might not have the opportunity to repay you if he dies while fulfilling his quest.”

  The chubby dumplings of Siobhan’s freckled cheeks filled out again as she returned to herself. If only Vega’s own transformation was so smooth and easy as it was for this banshee girl.

  “No need to thank me for getting rid of him for you,” Vega said. “I don’t expect any favors in return, though if you happen to find a new desk for me, I won’t turn it down.”

  Siobhan left the ashes and retrieved her backpack. “Sorry. I don’t have any way to help you with that. . . .”

  Vega nodded decisively. “Now that this matter has been settled, I expect you to go wash up and join your class in the library.” She waved the girl toward the door.

  Siobhan shuffled as slowly as a snail to the door, dropping papers and retrieving them as she fumbled out and made her way toward the stairwell. Vega locked the classroom and walked in the opposite direction.