Ghoul Problems

by Sarina Dorie

  “Where are you going?” Siobhan asked.

  “I need to fetch a potion to help me make it through the rest of the day.” That potion happened to be called coffee, and if there wasn’t any left in the staff room, there would be hell to pay.

  * * *

  Five minutes later, coffee in hand, Vega joined her students in the library. Leah Chamapiwa glared at her. Vega pretended not to notice.

  The mystery—and the first murder—had started with a book. Vega no longer had Jessica’s notebook. But Malisha had accused Vega of finding the spell in the library. Vega had witnessed Malisha in the library the day before. Could she have found something in the case of forbidden knowledge that Vega had missed?

  Or more likely, could Malisha have planted evidence to frame Vega?

  Vega hated the idea that her nemesis knew something she didn’t. Especially if it was dirt that Malisha intended to use to tarnish Vega’s reputation.

  Vega strode over to the case of restricted books.

  The librarian stepped into her path. “No food or drink in the library.” She eyed Vega’s coffee like it was a fire-inducing potion.

  “Teachers are permitted food and drink during the staff meetings,” Vega said. Often the principal held staff events in the library.

  “Teachers are seated at desks. They aren’t checking out books.” Ms. Chamapiwa crossed her arms. “You can leave your mug on the counter.”

  There was no way Vega was abandoning her cup of coffee after the first one had been drunk by a student. She gulped the scalding liquid down and deposited the mug at the counter before returning to the restricted section. She eyed the case, thinking over her plan.

  One of the students from Vega’s class dared interrupt her thoughts. “Ms. Bloodmire, I can’t decide if I should write my paper on useful divination spells to predict if my enemies intend to harm me or defensive magic.”

  Here Vega was, taking time out of her busy schedule teaching the most useful classes at this school in order to solve a murder that might prevent more students from dying. Yet teenagers had to pester her with questions they should have been able to figure out on their own. How were they ever going to survive in the real world?

  Vega sighed, disgusted she had to spell it out for the girl. “Are you a powerful Celestor who has a chance at using divination correctly?”

  “Um, no. But maybe if I practice. . . .”

  “Do you intend to practice?” Vega tilted her head to view the titles in the case better, hoping to find something on barbequing enemies. There wasn’t anything that obvious.

  The student wandered away, her question apparently answered.

  Years before when she’d been a student, Vega had watched the librarian use a spell modified from the card catalogue to search for key ingredients in books to help a student find what she was looking for. Vega untucked her wand from her sleeve and drew upon her affinity of starlight, calling to the magic in her that hungered for knowledge. She didn’t have to use much, as her innate power aligned itself naturally for the task of seeking information though divination. Vega incanted the spell, focusing on the keyword of bat wings, one of the ingredients in the potion, focusing her search on the books in the case.

  She aimed her wand at the cabinet, and specks of starlight drifted out of her wand toward the volumes. Shimmers of celestial energy passed through the glass and wove in and out of the books, hovering in front of the ones with that ingredient. Unfortunately bat wings were a common component in spells.

  “Shredded bat wings and coriander,” Vega whispered in the hope of narrowing down her search.

  Several of the lights combined, growing larger as they joined to direct her attention to a dozen volumes. Vega considered what other words might help her in her search.

  “Show me potions with shredded bat wings, coriander, and fire,” she commanded.

  The starlight condensed again. The energy twinkled in front of two books. Vega opened the case and selected the first book. One of the orbs of starlight nudged the pages, trying to show her the potion she sought. As soon as Vega opened the book to the correct page, the star faded away, its task accomplished.

  Vega scanned the page. It was a spell for curing the common cold. The only part of the potion that involved a fire was to boil the ingredients. This spell didn’t even belong in the restricted section. It was easy to perform, couldn’t harm anyone even if it went wrong, and lacked an animal sacrifice like some of the restricted volumes. Then again, the “seed of unicorn” in the ingredient’s list was a substance that teenage girls didn’t need to be collecting from horny unicorns in the forest.

  It wasn’t the right potion. Vega returned the book. The other nimbus of starlight nudged the only other remaining tome that might shed light on what she was looking for.

  This recipe was to put a pox on an enemy. It was similar to the original spell Vega had written in Jessica’s journal. Neither contained the potion Malisha had accused her of copying. Had Malisha been lying?

  Vega scanned the case again. There was an empty space in one of the shelves halfway down, the slot like a gap between two teeth. Vega had only directed her spell at the case. If the book had been checked out—if Malisha had gotten it before her—it wouldn’t be in the library at all now.

  “Looking for something?” a cloyingly sweet female voice said behind Vega.

  A chill skated up her spine. Slowly, she turned, already knowing what she was going to find.

  Malisha held up a book.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  A Wolf in Teacher’s Clothing

  Vega froze, her palms suddenly slick with sweat. Malisha might have looked like an angel with her blonde hair, blue eyes, and falsely sweet expression, but Vega knew her well enough to see through that façade. She knew her as the manipulative, lying, sneaking witch she was.

  Alas, they had so much in common. They could have been friends if they didn’t have a past full of grudges and teenage drama behind them.

  Vega glanced at the librarian who was watching them like a dragon spying on knights in her treasure room. One wrong move in the library and Vega wasn’t just getting kicked out of the place where she had easy access to the books she needed to become a Merlin-class Celestor, but there was a good chance she would lose her job.

  “That’s right,” Malisha said. “You know you can’t attack me here.”

  Vega feigned indifference, trying to think of a way she could get the book from her enemy without witnesses seeing her hex another teacher. “I thought you had a class to teach.”

  The corners of Malisha’s mouth quirked upward in amusement. “It’s my prep. I don’t have to cover anyone’s homeroom now that our escapee has been found.”

  Unfortunately, Vega was the one who had found Henrietta. No good deed was left unpunished.

  “What do you want?” Vega asked.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong. . . . I think we want the same thing.”

  Vega frowned. She doubted Malisha wanted to be buried up to the neck next to an anthill. That was what Vega wanted for her enemy.

  Malisha went on. “We both want to figure out who wrote that spell in Jessica’s book.”

  “Jessica wrote the spell.”

  “Did she? Or did someone just make it look like her handwriting? Did you notice the last entry had no spelling errors? No letters were written backward.”

  Vega hadn’t noticed. She’d only been interested in examining it to prove her innocence. Loathing percolated in her as she realized that Malisha had noticed something she hadn’t.

  “Just like no errors were written in this note.” Malisha removed a paper from the book, holding it up for Vega to see.

  I know what you did.

  Vega’s mouth went dry. “Where did you get that?” That wasn’t the note from her pillow. It was now in her pocket. This one was similar, but the message slightly different.

  “She left one on your pillow too, didn’t she?”
Malisha’s smile was grim. “The real murderer is taunting you.”

  Her words sank it. On your pillow too.

  Vega gasped. “Someone left that on your pillow?” That meant someone was taunting Malisha as well.

  Malisha tucked the note back into the book. “Along with one of your hairs. I suspect she wanted me to think it was you.”

  “As if I would be so careless as to leave one of my hairs on your pillow!” Vega clenched her fists. Who possibly thought she was that inept?

  “She’s pitting us against each other.” Malisha closed the book. “What she didn’t realize was that I would know this handwriting matched the last entry in the book—which wasn’t a complete match for Jessica’s.”

  Vega realized what this meant. “You’ve seen the notebook . . . recently. You had it in your possession.” A lump settled in Vega’s gut. “You were the one who stole it from me in the first place.” Only a worthy opponent would have thought to remove all traces of herself from the forest where Vega had hidden it.

  Malisha rolled her eyes. “All I had to do was a simple incantation. ‘Witchkin sight, use your might. Show me what is mine by right.’ The book might not have been mine, but it had my writing in it. That page knew me and allowed me to find it.” She leaned against a shelf of books.

  Apparently Malisha wasn’t skilled enough to realize she could simply have mimicked Jessica’s essence to find it, but then, not everyone could be as brilliant as Vega. It was yet another example of Vega’s skills in magic. If only she hadn’t been outwitted by Malisha’s cleverness.

  Vega studied Malisha’s face for deception. “You figured out how to steal the book, but you expect me to believe you couldn’t figure out how to keep someone else from stealing it from you to use the spell again?”

  Vega had successfully kept that book hidden for years. Yet her nemesis had thought of a simple loophole that Vega hadn’t counted on. It was very difficult to hide a lost item from its owner when she used divination. Especially if that Witchkin was a Celestor who excelled at the more difficult forms of magic.

  Malisha and Vega both were Celestors. If someone had stolen the book from Malisha, it would have been a witch just as powerful.

  “You were in possession of the notebook when Sherry died, weren’t you?” Vega asked.

  “No! It was stolen from me. I didn’t use that spell to kill anyone, and you know it!” Malisha growled.

  Vega noticed some of her students pretending not to listen to their interaction. Several peeked over the card catalogue, though they ducked down when they saw Vega glance in their direction. Obviously Malisha was drawing attention.

  Vega didn’t care if her class heard her accuse Malisha of a crime she might have committed. Witnesses might work in her favor.

  “Perhaps you didn’t kill anyone, and perhaps you did.” Vega spoke quietly, which only made teenagers lean in closer. “You had the notebook in your possession, and you just admitted Jessica’s handwriting was falsified. You apparently have the book the spell came from in your possession. That’s more than enough evidence to point the principal and Witchkin Council at you.” Vega couldn’t tell which happy ending she would be more satisfied with—catching the true criminal or being rid of Malisha forever.

  Malisha opened the book to the back where the pocket with the stamped card was located. Her calm expression gave nothing away. “Funny thing about that. I wasn’t the one who checked out the library book nine years ago, right before Jessica died.” She removed the card from the book and held it out to Vega.

  Dated nine years earlier and halfway down the card was Vega’s signature.

  “I didn’t check out that book.” Vega’s voice rose in irritation. “That isn’t my signature.”

  Too late she realized her entire class had heard her words. Ms. Chamapiwa stared at them openly.

  Hating that she had to be the one to waste her energy, Vega erected a sound-proof barrier so that the rest of their conversation wouldn’t be overheard. A blue line that resembled the surface of water separated them from the class. The edge of the spell rippled, light reflecting off it like sunlight catching waves.

  “No, of course this wasn’t written by you.” Malisha used a patronizing tone. “It’s someone framing you.” One of her golden eyebrows lifted in mocking concern. “How unfortunate for you.”

  “You did that, didn’t you? To cover your bases.” Vega fingered the amulet in her pocket. If she could use it, she might see through Malisha’s secrets.

  As she slid her fingers over the stone, she felt the note she’d found on her pillow. Probably Malisha had written that as well. She might be able to use magic to trace that back to Malisha.

  “No, I had nothing to do with forging your name on a library card. Someone else did that.” Malisha closed the book. “Now you can see I’m not the person the Witchkin Council will be questioning. They’re going to look to you because the book the spell came from that the murderer used was checked out in your name.”

  Vega crossed her arms, attempting to exude a lack of concern. “I see. And I suppose you’re going to use this to try to blackmail me into doing something for you?”

  It was the tactic Vega had come to know and hate about Malisha as well as other bullies. Like Jessica.

  “I want to know what you know. I will help you, and you will help me.” Malisha paused. “I’ve already told you three important clues I’ve found: the handwriting wasn’t Jessica’s, someone checked out the book in your name to lead evidence toward you and away from herself, and the attacker found the spell in this book. Now you will tell me what you know.”

  Vega considered what she could confide that wouldn’t help Malisha if she actually intended to frame her. “Ms. Suarez is young and beautiful. She is probably a yara, a kind of siren.”

  “I already know that. As does the principal. She hides her appearance so she can avoid the advances of teachers—and students. If she didn’t, her beauty would constantly distract them.”

  “How do you know?”

  Malisha waved her off. “I have my methods. Also, Ms. Suarez has a deformity with one of her legs, and she uses her glamour to hide that.” Malisha hugged the book to her chest. “Next clue, if you please.”

  “Henrietta had some kind of talisman that helped her see things others couldn’t. She could see through glamours. She saw through Ms. Suarez’s but probably also through students’ and staffs’ illusions. She might have seen something she wasn’t intended to see, as had Sherry, the girl who died.”

  Malisha’s eyes momentarily widened. “A motive?”

  “Possibly. Jessica also had dirt on people. She might have known something about Ms. Suarez.” Or someone else.

  “Ms. Suarez isn’t the culprit. She cares too much about students.” Malisha grimaced as she said it, as if the idea disgusted her.

  Vega doubted Ms. Suarez would have ever impaled someone’s familiar with a high heel.

  “Then who else could it be?” Vega asked. “We’re the only three still at the school. Jessica is dead. The two other students in the school whom Jessica was blackmailing are no longer here. Unless the first murder was committed by one person and someone else committed the second one, the only three suspects in the school both times are you, me, and Ms. Suarez.”

  Malisha huffed in the same way she used to as a teenager, aiming her blame at Vega. “If only you hadn’t gotten the book burned, we could figure out who the two other students were.”

  Vega had figured that detail out long ago. She knew something Malisha didn’t. Her lack of comeback to the snide remark about getting the book burned must have been her tell, as Malisha stepped in closer.

  Malisha pointed an accusing finger at her. “You know who the other students were, don’t you?”

  Vega considered withholding the information. It might help her solve the crime and implicate Malisha.

  “We are in this together,” Malisha said. “If we can prove who committ
ed this crime, no one can blame it on either of us. You need me as much as I need you.”

  Vega hated it that Malisha was correct. “Charlotte Winters and Frida Lakshmi.”

  Malisha nodded decisively. “Just as I thought.”

  Vega doubted that truly was the case. “Neither are currently here.”

  “Not at the moment, but they might have siblings attending.” Malisha caressed the book of hexes with the kind of reverence that only a Celestor might do.

  “Last semester I had Demeter Winters in my class,” Vega said. She had been the one who had stolen Henrietta’s amulet. “I think there are three other Winterses at this school, all snow or ice affinities. It’s a common last name. They might not be related to Charlotte.” As much as Vega wanted her reputation in this matter to come away clean, she didn’t want anyone else’s reputation tarnished unnecessarily by a selfish tyrant like Malisha. Being a teenage witch at a magical boarding school was hard enough for these girls. Accusations of murder weren’t going to help.

  Besides, Vega wanted the real murderer caught, not whoever was convenient for Malisha to blame.

  “But one of them could be related to her,” Malisha said. “If one of them is Charlotte Winters’ sister, she might have conveniently had a reason to be on campus the day of the murder. Or she could have given the spell to Demeter.”

  Vega noticed Siobhan watching them with open curiosity. When Vega glared at her, she buried her nose in a book.

  “What about Frida Lakshmi?” Vega asked. “Is there any way to learn if she had any sisters here in the past?” She knew there was. She hoped Malisha walked into the trap she was setting.

  “Of course there is.” Malisha made a face as though she couldn’t believe how stupid Vega was. “Student records.”

  “Well then, you’re the one with the prep period. Go look it up. See if one of them are connected to anyone currently at the school.” Vega had more important things to do, getting a new desk and ensuring her name remained clear of slander among those things.