The Book of Lost Souls (25 page)

The subject clearly had Mr. Evans worked up. “Because,” he said rather curtly, “The ancestor they visit was killed during the Kindred-Regular conflict. They’re secretly holding a grudge, I’m sure of it!”
 

He stopped rummaging through the tall filing cabinet behind Mrs. Olsen, his fingers curling tightly around a drawer handle. He pursed his lips, and then he saw Ivy. For a moment, he looked like a frightened rat—he was still standing on the balls of his feet, and he wrung his hands. His beady black eyes darted between Ivy and Mrs. Olsen.
 

“Why, Gerald, you
are
in a foul mood. That’s nonsense,” Mrs. Olsen said. “The only grave touched was the Laughton grave, and that was just crazy old Lucas digging for bones again. Other than the Gray children and their friends, no one has been up to that section lately. And those children were clearing out weeds. Such a nice thing for them to volunteer for on weekends.”
 

At this, Mr. Evans turned to stare at Ivy as though she were under a microscope. His flexed his hands into tight fists at his sides. Mrs. Olsen’s back was still to Mr. Evans or she might have found his behavior as unsettling as Ivy did.
 

Mrs. Olsen reached across her desk to fetch a paper and noticed Ivy standing just inside the doorway. She lowered her bifocals and peered over the top.

“Well, hello Ivy dear! I was just thinking of you. Come, come!” She waved her hand vigorously. “What can I do for you today?” The corners of Mrs. Olsen’s mouth did their best to turn upward. The result looked more like a grimace than a smile.

“Hello Mrs. Olsen. Good to see you.” Ivy glanced at Mr. Evans who was still leering darkly at her. His fists were now so tightly clenched they appeared to be shaking. She’d never seen him so angry, so upset before.
 

She turned back to Mrs. Olsen. “I’ve got a note to be excused the rest of the day.”

“Oh!” Mrs. Olsen exclaimed softly. “Is something wrong?”

“I woke up with a migraine. My mom said I could come home if it didn’t get any better. She wrote this note just in case.”

Mrs. Olsen made a few tsking sounds. “So young to have migraines. I hope you feel better soon, dear.” She took the note from Ivy and read it. “Well, okay then. Did you need someone to drive you home?”

“Yes,” Mr. Evans said, still eyeing her suspiciously. “I could drive you.”

“Uh, no. I can drive home,” Ivy answered. Had Mr. Evans always been so creepy? Nerdy, yes, but now he was outright scary. She smiled weakly and turned to leave.

“Tomorrow’s Halloween, Mrs. Olsen called out. “Wouldn’t do for a Kindred to be sick on Halloween, would it now? Only a half-day!” she said cheerily.

“No, it wouldn’t. Thanks.” Ivy left without looking back at Mr. Evans. Why was he acting so strangely? Did he detect her lie?
 

As soon as she closed the door behind her, Ivy bolted down the hall toward the exit.

CHAPTER 28

It took ten nerve-wracking minutes to get to the park just outside the woods. Luckily, Ivy didn’t pass anyone who might tell her mother they’d seen her on the road during school hours. She didn’t think Mrs. Olsen would say anything to her mother since they didn’t see each other often. Hopefully, the same could be said of Mr. Evans.

Ivy pulled the VW into the most remote spot she could find—a shady, heavily treed area. She grabbed her book bag, and then thought better of it. In the twenty-four hours she’d refrained from reading
The Rise of the Dark Curse
, she’d felt better—less irritable, less moody. It might be best to leave it hidden in the car just in case things went wrong. She wouldn’t want someone to catch her in the woods and find the book on her. She set the bag on the rear floorboard and threw a blanket over it that she’d kept in the car for Devlin. If she had time, she’d come back for the book and bury it in a briar patch or someplace else where no one would be likely to stumble across it.

Ivy briskly walked to the path leading into the woods, feeling all the while like someone was watching her. A crow cawed loudly from a nearby branch, startling her.

Ivy took a deep breath. “Quit being so jumpy,” she muttered.

“Who says I’m jumpy?” called the all-too familiar male voice behind her. It looked like she wasn’t the only one cutting classes.

Nick strolled up to her, an easy grin on his face. A lock of dark hair fell over one brow.

Ivy opened her mouth to explain why she was out here. “I—”
 

“Cut classes to spy on some mystery guy by the river. You’re hoping he’ll be the one who’s got
The Book of Lost Souls.”

Ivy shook her head. “Who told—”

“Shayde. Raven knows I’m here, too. They said you didn’t want them going with you—part of a deal to get you to surrender the other book.” His mouth crooked into a smirk. “They never said they wouldn’t send someone else.”

Ivy gave him a dark look, but the truth was that she felt better not going alone.
 

Not that she’d ever admit that.
 

“What about Phoebe?” If she was going into the deepest, darkest part of the woods with Nick, she needed to know where they stood. Until then, she’d just have to keep close watch on him—stay on guard. If anything happened to her, Shayde and Raven knew where to come look. They’d also know whom to suspect. She pulled out her phone to text Shayde.

“Phoebe doesn’t know I’m here. She’s been pretty jealous,” he said. “And, she’s got a right to be.”

Ivy sent Shayde two words:
Nick’s here
. If Shayde hadn’t told Nick, then Ivy could expect a text back. She pocketed the phone and started for the woods again.
 

“Such lack of trust,” He said.

Ivy kept walking. “Shayde should never have called you, Nick.”

He caught up to her. “I’m glad she did. Look, there hasn’t been anything between Phoebe and me for a long time. I can’t stop her from what she thinks—”

“She
thinks
I’ve got something she wants,” Ivy finished. Her heart was pounding hard, and she tried to tell herself it had nothing to do with Nick, but that would be a lie.

“I have no idea what that is,” Nick replied.
 

Ivy looked at him. “She knows I’ve got
The Rise of the Dark Curse
. You didn’t tell her, did you?”

He actually looked shocked. “She doesn’t think you have the book. Phoebe thinks whoever has
The Book of Lost Souls
also has
The Rise of the Dark Curse.”

The sky had been overcast all day and it made the woods darker and gloomier, than normal. “So, Phoebe
doesn’t
have
The Book of Lost Souls?”

Nick nearly burst out laughing. “No, she doesn’t. I’d know.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I
mean
that if Phoebe had the book, she wouldn’t be wasting her time with me or anyone else. She’s as hung up on her powers as Tara is on her looks. There is nothing that would appeal more to Phoebe than having either of Skinner’s books.”

“Hmmm,” Ivy said. “I don’t know. I think it’s her or this mystery guy.”

“So,” Nick said. “This guy Spike saw. Has anyone seen him before?”

Up ahead, Ivy heard the sound of water rushing over rocks.
 

“Not that I know of. Just Spike,” Ivy answered. “Says he’s some tall guy in a suit.”

They both came to a stop when they reached the clearing just before the river.

“A suit? Here? That’s weird. So, now what?” Nick asked. “Do we just wait?”

Ivy shook her head. “No, we cross over. At least, that’s what Spike said. We must have walked too far south. There’s supposed to be a bridge, then a clearing of some sort.”

Nick motioned to their left. “I bet I know exactly the area Spike is talking about. Everyone hangs out there.”

Ivy didn’t know the precise spot, but she’d heard some of the kids came down here to party on weekends. Of course, Nick being part of the group in question, she had no doubt he could find it.
 

“It’s just a few hundred yards or so down,” Nick said. “The clearing is just on the other side of the river.”

“We can cross here.” Ivy pointed to a large fallen log closer to the bank of the river.

 
Nick followed her gaze. “That log isn’t budging, Ivy. And those stepping stones are spaced too far apart. We’d have to wade through the water over the first section. The bridge is easier.”

“What if this guy sees us coming from that direction?” Ivy asked. “Follow me.”

Nick sighed, but followed her down to the river. Water rushed past river rock in an angry swirl. Large, flat gray rocks rested in the middle, and on the other side, a much gentler flow of water. It was hard to tell about the depth from where she stood. On the other bank, large trees flanked the shoreline.
 

Not too far from the bank, a rotting log lay in a patch of overgrown grass. The jagged edges of the trunk still in the ground had become weatherworn and hollow.
 

Ivy knelt next to a small patch of red clover and chanted a spell she’d memorized from
A Botany of Spells—Magic for the Garden
:

From this soil of earth and clay,

Seeds of beauty shall make their way

Flowers bloom, where once was none

’tis nature’s gift, from earth to sun.

Pea-green sprouts with tiny leaves pushed from the soil like choreographed dancers, lifting their heads in unison, leafy arms rising skyward. Their tiny stems swayed to the rhythm and music carried in on a sudden breeze. Even the small amount of sunlight from a break in the clouds joined them, radiating golden swirls onto the young plants’ new growth unfolding from their stems like silk scarves.

As they matured, their dance quickened to the wind’s song. The breeze even whistled through blades of grass, like tiny horns and trumpets. Some of the grass blades beat against the earth like a drum. To Ivy, it appeared as though Mother Nature liked jamming to jazz. Little plant heads bobbed forward and back, leaves in tune with the motion.

In a brief growth spurt that looked like each plant had done a short pause then a hop, their buds blossomed in a flowing wave of gemstone colors. Each full-grown flower furled and unfurled their petals. The dance of the forest flowers continued onward, enveloping everything within their path in vivid splendor. Leaves shot upward and downward in time to the music, stems twisting from side to side. The flowers spread to the fallen log, pressing themselves against its weight. In turn, the log began to bounce to the beat and then started to roll down to the stream’s edge. The flowers took little notice as they continued on with their melodious expansion.

The log tumbled forward, gaining the momentum Ivy needed for her next spell to work. She swirled a finger in a clock-wise motion and the log spun outward on the flat rocks.
 

“Stabilize,” she commanded the log with another wave of her hand. Tiny white sparkles hovered around the log before flickering out of existence. The water was most chilly this time of year and it wouldn’t do if the log shifted while they were crossing.

Nick hopped up and offered Ivy a hand. “Not too bad.”
 

Ivy smiled and took his hand. They only had to leap from one of the stones to the next before making it safely to the other side of the river.
 

“Not bad?” Ivy inquired as they made their way upstream. “That was awesome!”

Nick was running now, and Ivy ran behind him.

“If you say so,” he said grinning over his shoulder.
 

Ivy pushed herself harder, catching up to Nick just as they came into an open area slightly larger than the science lab at school. The surrounding area was crowded with large oaks still clinging to most of their leaves. A massive Trekking tree stood in the middle of the area, its leaf-covered branches adding to the umbrella-like canopy. Another downed log along the edge was lined with quite a few discarded beer bottles.

Nick had stopped and she nearly ran into him. She gave him a punch on the arm.

“Ow! Okay!” he said with a laugh. “You’re spell was...cute.”

When he turned to face her, she realized she was standing far too close.
 

They stared at each other for what felt like an awkward minute.
 

“I could get lost in those eyes of yours,” Nick said.
 

She should have turned away, but couldn’t.
 

His hand lightly touched her arm. “How do I prove to you that all I want is you?”

She wanted to hear this, and yet, she didn’t. She had to stay strong, she had to be sure. His words weren’t enough. They were, after all, just that. Words. He’d been here before. Maybe with Phoebe. She felt her head shake slowly. “Nick—”

He took a few steps away from her. “You want to see some real magic?”

Nick bent down and picked up two empty liquor bottles. He slammed them against the fallen log, shattering them into hundreds of small, glistening shards. The broken glass rose into the air and swirled above their heads, glowing like small fireflies. A breeze stirred through the clearing, and the brown leaves at her feet rustled, folding over on themselves before unfurling into red rose petals.
 

Nick extended his hand, and Ivy’s heartbeat sped up a few notches. Nick took her hand into his.

“I don’t know what you want to hear or what you want to know. Just give me a chance,” Nick said.
 

A warm breeze filled the clearing, stirring the leaves and the trees into some sort of song. Vines tightened around the trees, sounding like guitars. The melody was more rock than ballad, which clearly suited Nick’s rock 'n roll style.

“Dance with me,” Nick said, pulling Ivy to him.

She wanted to tell him not to hold her so close, that she could feel his heartbeat against hers.
 

“This doesn’t have to end here, Ivy. I’m serious about you.”
 

She raised her eyes to meet his, “Why me? You could have Phoebe or anyone. I bet you could even steal Tara from Dean if you wanted.”