The Nightmare Dilemma (Arkwell Academy) (5 page)

BOOK: The Nightmare Dilemma (Arkwell Academy)
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Miss Norton ran her gaze over the group again. I sank down lower in my chair, hoping her attention wouldn’t land on me. She appeared exceptionally bright-eyed and awake this morning. Her alleged Coke addiction (the drink, not the drug) seemed to be under control lately. As a fairy, Miss Norton was prone to the intoxicating effects of sugar.

“Anybody?” Norton said into our continued silence. She sighed and then opened the top drawer of her desk and pulled out her infamous talking stick. It looked like an exceptionally crooked wand, although I didn’t think it was. As a naturekind, Miss Norton had no need of a wand or any other magical instrument to wield her magic.

“All right. This is your last chance.” Norton made a sweeping gesture with the stick toward the room at large. “If I don’t get a volunteer, I’m going to have to choose someone.”

Come on, somebody speak up
. I glanced expectantly at Katarina. She hardly ever let a chance of being the center of attention go by. But no such luck. Katarina had her eyes carefully focused on her book, although I caught her taking a quick peek at Eli.

“Suit yourselves.” Miss Norton let go of the stick. It hovered in the air before her for a moment and then began to move about the room, sweeping this way and that as if it had a mind of its own. I cringed each time it made a pass in my direction.

Finally it zoomed to the other side of the room and hung suspended over Nick Jacobi’s chair. I let out the breath I was holding, glad to have dodged the bullet.

Next second the stick did a mad race back across the room right at me. It moved so fast, I actually ducked, certain it would strike me in the head.

But instead it swerved right and stopped inches away from Eli’s face. He stared at the stick, his eyes going crossed and his mouth twisting into a frown. Then exhaling loudly, he seized hold of it, resigned to the inevitable.

“So,” Miss Norton said, smoothing the folds of her fluffy, flowered housedress. “Which magickind do you suppose it was, Mr. Booker?”

Eli shifted in his seat. I swallowed back guilt. I should’ve raised my hand.

“Any day now,” Miss Norton said.

Eli looked up. He fixed his gaze on Miss Norton, as if pretending she was the only other person present. He took a deep breath and then said in a quiet voice, “Siren.”

Eager whispers broke out in response to this, and nearly everybody turned their gaze on Katarina, the history between them common knowledge. My skin went red, both in vicarious embarrassment for Eli and a sudden swell of pity for Katarina. I didn’t like her, but I imagined the statement must’ve hurt.

It was even possible Eli wasn’t referring to her at all. Katarina hadn’t done anything so heinous to him as to be compared to a soul-sucker. No, I had a feeling Eli was thinking about what Paul had done to me. He was only a half siren, but that was plenty enough.

“And what makes you believe it was a siren?” Miss Norton said.

I closed my eyes. This couldn’t get any worse.

Wrong
.

“It was me.” Katarina’s voice cracked. “He thinks I used my siren powers on him.”

Eli turned a smoldering look on her. “This has nothing to do with you.” He turned back to Miss Norton. “I just meant that sirens are capable of bending people’s wills, which is a lot like stealing someone’s soul. Plus the reference to flying could be literal since sirens really can fly. And Helen is supposed to be extremely beautiful, so the description fits.”

“Aw,” Miss Norton said, pointing a finger in the air. “But what about some of the demonkinds that really do feed on the soul?”

“I haven’t heard of any that are supposed to have the kind of beauty Helen did,” Eli said, thrusting out his jaw.

“Wait,” Nick Jacobi said. He slapped the top of his desk. “Are you trying to say that demonkind are ugly?”

“Yeah,” Royce Davidson said from beside Nick. Royce was a Metus demon, the kind that feeds on fear. “What about succubi? Could’ve been one of them.”

“That’s right,” Nick said. I could tell he was still on edge from the fight in the cafeteria. The hint of red flashed in his eyes through the glamour. He turned those eyes on me, his face twisting into a glower. “Or it could’ve been a Nightmare.” He paused. A vicious grin parted his lips to reveal large, pointed teeth. “Oh, never mind. I guess Nightmares aren’t pretty enough, are they?”

Eli stood up, the legs of his combo desk-chair scraping against the stone floor. He pointed the talking stick at Nick. The vision of him in Britney’s dream swam in my head. “You shut your mouth.”

Nick stood, too. “Go ahead and try.
Ordinary
.”

“No, boys,” Miss Norton said, moving to intervene.

Nick extended his hand. “Hypno-soma!” A jet of red light flew out from his fingertips.

Eli ducked sideways, just barely missing it. “Fligere,” he shouted back, aiming the stick.

What was he doing? He couldn’t work magic.

But the spell erupted from the tip of the talking stick. Miss Norton, still in motion, stepped in front of it. The spell struck her in the chest. Her eyes went wide, and she tipped backward, landing in a heap on the floor.

A silence louder than the shouting and flying spells descended in the room.

I turned my head toward Eli, my stomach sinking.

So much for the no-magic defense.

 

5

The Sheriff, the Student, and the Oracle

The Will Guard arrived seconds later. Captain Gargrave came through the door first, pointing his staff at Eli, who went rigid, his arms pinioned at his sides. Across from him, Nick stood in a similar state. The principal had said the Will Guard was armed with magic detectors. Apparently, they were really good ones.

“Are you all right, Miss Norton?” said Katarina, helping the fairy to her feet.

Miss Norton let out a groan as she rubbed her chest where Eli’s jab jinx had struck. I did an inner double take at the thought. Eli had done magic. There was no denying it. I’d seen it with my own eyes. Heard it with my own ears. But how was it possible?

I looked Eli up and down, half-convinced he was someone else in disguise. The dark, dangerous expression on his face was familiar, but also inscrutable. He could be thinking anything.

“This is the second time I’ve had to break you two up,” Gargrave said, glancing between his captives. Then he turned toward Eli and yanked the talking stick out of his hand. “And according to my information, you’re not supposed to have a wand, Mr. Booker. Where did you get this?”

“It’s mine.” Miss Norton stepped forward and seized the stick from Gargrave. “It’s … it’s just a classroom tool.” She hugged it close to her chest as if fearing Gargrave would take it back.

But the captain shrugged and returned his attention to Eli. “Come with me. I think the principal is going to want to hear about this.”

The spell holding Eli in place let go, and he shook out his arms as if to get the blood flowing again.

“Why just him?” I said, unable to stand idly by. “Nick cast a stunning spell first.”

Gargrave scrutinized the Ira demon, considering the matter. He shook his head. “I don’t think so. He’s a demonkind and therefore entitled to a little more tolerance.”

Although Gargrave didn’t say it, the word
ordinary
seemed to sound throughout the room. It echoed over and over again inside my head.

“That’s not fa—” I began, but Eli cut me off.

“Leave it, Dusty. I’ll be fine.”

With an effort, I closed my mouth.

Gargrave turned toward the door, and Eli followed after him. Our eyes met for a moment, and I saw he wasn’t angry at being the only one punished. Instead he seemed resigned to his fate.

As soon as he and the Will Guard were gone, Miss Norton ordered all of us back to our seats. We spent the rest of the period in silent reading. Although I kept my eyes glued to the page, none of the words registered. My head was too crowded with questions and doubts all vying for my attention like unwelcome houseguests. The image from Britney’s dream kept coming back to me. I didn’t want to believe Eli was involved, but I couldn’t ignore what I’d witnessed—he had done magic. Was I wrong about Eli like I’d been wrong about Paul? Feeling sick, I wrapped my arms around my chest.

I wanted desperately to talk to Eli, but by the time first period ended, he hadn’t returned. I walked to my spell-casting class alone, ignoring the gossip filling the hallways. Everyone was talking about the ordinary boy who’d somehow done magic.

When I descended the stairs into the tunnels and caught a familiar whiff of canal water, my thoughts turned to Britney. Guilt and relief battled inside me. If I had told Lady Elaine about Eli being in her dream, he would be in even more trouble. Then again, if he’d been the one to attack her …

Stop it, Dusty
.
Not everybody is a power-crazed villain in disguise.

With an effort, I forced the thoughts from my mind. The task proved easier once I arrived at spell casting. Today we were working on illusion spells, a subject we’d been studying nonstop since the semester began. According to our textbook, there were three levels to illusion spells, starting with the simplest and working up to the hardest. We’d already learned the level-one stuff, which involved transforming the appearance of an existing object into something else. We started small, first turning pennies into quarters, and then textbooks into pillows.

Now we were moving on to level two: duplication. Five minutes into my attempts to make a duplicated illusion of a penny appear beside a real one, sweat broke out over my skin, and I started panting from the effort. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t remove the telltale blurriness from the false penny. Who knew creating something out of thin air would be so difficult?

Still, I was grateful for the distraction as the period slipped by quickly. I only checked the door twice, hoping Eli had arrived, and I was too busy concentrating to be concerned about what he might or might not have done.

But when class ended, my worry came back full force. Wishing I’d just asked Eli for the truth when I’d had the chance, I hesitated at the stairs leading up from the tunnels to Monmouth Tower and my history class. Then, on impulse, I turned and doubled back, making a right at the next intersection. If I hurried I would have time to swing by the administration office in Jefferson Tower to see if I could find out what was keeping Eli so long.

Halfway there I realized it was a stupid plan and a little on the desperate side, but it was too late to turn back. Besides, the substitute teacher we’d been stuck with for history since our old teacher Mr. Marrow had turned out to be a power-hungry murderer, wasn’t much concerned with tardiness. Mrs. Rosencrantz was a hamadryad and well past ancient. With her treelike patience, she spent most of the class dozing while we were supposed to read from the text.

I marched through the door into the administration main office intent on asking the secretary about Eli, but when I arrived, the reception desk sat deserted. The only sign of life came from the large plant in the corner behind the desk. I had no idea what it was—biology was a junior-level class at Arkwell—but it was definitely of the magical variety. Its leaves kept rustling in random spurts, and the multiple yellow flowers perched on the tops of its stems had turned toward me when I entered the room, their dark centers like large eyes watching me. Thank goodness it didn’t have vines; otherwise I would be worried it might reach out and grab me. No plant should show so much interest in a person.

I ignored the creepy feeling crawling over my spine and peered down the hallway behind the desk that led to the principal’s office as well as to a couple of conference rooms. I thought I heard the sound of voices down there. Deciding that a quick peek wouldn’t be too big a risk, I slipped past the desk and tiptoed down the hallway.

A familiar, gruff voice froze me in my tracks as I reached the door to the first conference room on the right. I stopped just outside it and listened as Sheriff Brackenberry said, “So you claim that Britney left your little”—there was the sound of paper ruffling—“Terra Tribe, the Society for the Betterment of Nature, meeting at nine
P.M.
, and that you two were the last ones there.”

Brackenberry stopped speaking. I strained my ears to hear the person answer, but it must’ve been a nod or a head shake for the sheriff continued, “And you don’t know where she went and you never saw her after that.” Another pause. “And you went straight back to your dorm.” A third pause.

Brackenberry let out a doubtful sigh. “Well then, as it stands now you were the last person to see her before she was attacked. I’m not saying that you were involved, but if you remember something, I would encourage you to report it at once. You can find me at this number.”

There was another sound of sliding paper.

“You’re free to go.”

Gulping in panic, I turned, dashed down the hallway and back around to the reception desk. I leaned my arms on top of the desk and lowered my gaze, trying to appear nonchalant. My heart pounded so hard in my chest I was certain everyone in a two-mile radius could hear it. The plant rustled its leaves, letting me know it had seen me. I hoped it couldn’t talk as well.

I didn’t look up at the sound of approaching footsteps until the person was almost next to me. When I did I saw it was Oliver Cork. I smiled at him, trying to appear friendly but worried I looked mostly guilty. Why were the police interrogating him? Did that mean they hadn’t fingered Eli for the attack? And what the hell was the Terra Tribe?

When I spotted Sheriff Brackenberry scowling at me from behind Oliver, the questions stopped midstream and the smile vanished from my face.

“What are you doing here?” Brackenberry said, hands on his belt.

“I … um…” I glanced over my shoulder, stalling until Oliver had left. I turned back to the sheriff. “I just wanted to know if Eli was still here.”

Brackenberry frowned, not buying it.

I willed the guilt out of my expression. Coming to find out about Eli
was
the reason I came. The eavesdropping about Britney was just an unintentional bonus.

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