Reading, Writing and Necromancy Read online

  I just had to find Thatch first.

  On Monday night, I stood before the mirror portal, staring into Thatch’s room. I hadn’t been able to sleep. The blanket that had been over the mirror earlier was heaped onto the floor and no longer barred the view of Thatch sprawled across the bed. I knew it was risky, barging in on Thatch like this, but the blanket on the floor probably meant Miss Periwinkle wasn’t around. It was practically an invitation to step in.

  I inhaled and pushed my way through. It was darker in the room than it had looked through the mirror. A hint of ambient light came from somewhere above, but it was never clear how Thatch lit the windowless room. During the day it was bright enough one would think the entire ceiling had a skylight.

  Thatch didn’t stir as I approached. I hesitated, wondering how badly this could go if I startled him. He might shoot lightning out his eyes if he thought I was an intruder. I remained a respectful distance from his bed. A safe distance.

  “Thatch,” I whispered. “I need to talk to you.”

  He remained as still as a corpse.

  I cleared my throat. I tried at a normal volume. “Thatch, wake up.”

  No response. I held up my hand and uttered a freshman-level spell used for illumination. A glowing orb hovered above my hand, filling the room with dim light. Most of my students could produce a stronger spell, but I was still learning.

  I tried calling Thatch again. He shifted in his sleep. That was good. At least he wasn’t dead. The blankets fell away from him. Intricate white lines covered his naked chest and arms, the patterns faint against his pale skin. He was lean, but muscular in an unassuming way. He looked peaceful, like a banished angel in repose, the subject of a Neoclassical painting. Even in sleep, his hair was immaculate, the black locks splayed across the pillow like wings.

  It was the thought of midnight wings that resurrected the creepy shivers of the Raven Queen. I was here to help Derrick.

  “Felix Thatch!” I crossed an invisible line separating us and shook his shoulder.

  His lips curved into a smile, and he moaned. He shifted, taking my hand in his and rolling away so that I was yanked onto the bed.

  “Oof,” I said as I fell across him.

  He blinked open his eyes. His smile faded. “Merlin’s balls! What are you doing in here?” He shoved me off him.

  I sat on the edge of his bed. “It’s an emergency. I need to talk to you.”

  “Everything is an emergency with you.” He sat up. More of the blankets fell away, revealing toned muscle. I hoped he was wearing pants under the covers.

  “I need you to tell me where Derrick is.”

  “That isn’t an emergency.” He groaned in exasperation. “Get out.”

  “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s happened to Derrick. You’ve done something with him, haven’t you?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Leave.”

  “No.”

  “I want you to think for just a moment on your conduct. You break into my room. You accuse me of doing something to your friend, and you demand I tell you where he is. Why would I be persuaded to talk to you at all?”

  “I can’t stand it any longer. I need to know where he is. You found out and punished him and—” I was so upset I could hardly form coherent sentences. “I would do anything to make sure he doesn’t get hurt. Please. I’ll go to the Raven Queen if that’s what you want.”

  He shoved me off the bed. “Stop blubbering. Go sit in my office. I’ll join you in a moment. Just let me get dressed.”

  “You promise you’ll tell me? You won’t let Miss Periwinkle interrupt? She always barges in, and you let her distract you.”

  “What is it with the two of you? Is there some reason you aren’t able to get along?”

  He swung his legs over the side of the bed. From the way he carefully kept his middle covered with blankets I suspected he was naked under there. Oh boy. That was awkward.

  The lock in the door rattled. He grabbed my arm and pushed me toward the bathroom, simultaneously trying to keep himself wrapped in blankets. He dropped his hand from my arm, a ball of sparkling yellow-and-green light forming. Whatever the spell was, it was too late. Miss Periwinkle was already in the doorway.

  Thatch looked at me. “I hate you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The Yoga Master

  Miss Periwinkle’s face shifted from delight to overdramatic horror. She may have tricked Thatch, but she didn’t fool me. She had an uncanny ability for butting in any time I spoke with him. Surely she’d set some kind of spell to detect my presence in proximity to him.

  Her face scrunched up, and she clutched at her chest like she was having a heart attack. “You said there was nothing going on between you! You said there are no secrets you’ve been keeping from me, but you’ve been lying. Obviously, she has a key.”

  I scooted farther away from her.

  Thatch’s face flushed red. “There isn’t. She doesn’t. This isn’t—ugh.” Thatch tried to stand and keep the blankets wrapped around himself at the same time, but they were tucked in, and he couldn’t. “She broke into my room with magic.”

  Her gaze raked over his naked chest and his obvious lack of pants. Fury sparked in her eyes as she glared at me.

  I inched back.

  “This is not what it looks like. Let me explain,” he said.

  That had to be the most overused line of cheating boyfriends ever. Already I could see Thatch was going to fail.

  “Explain all you want, but it isn’t going to change anything.” Gertrude turned to the door, sobbing. It sounded like crocodile tears to me.

  Thatch yanked the covers out of the bed, fabric tearing, and wrapped them around himself as he approached her. He gave me a dirty look. “Miss Lawrence, leave.”

  I gestured toward the door that she was blocking. That was the only way I could get out. I didn’t know how to go back through the mirror.

  He placed his arm around her shaking shoulders and guided her away from the door. I made a quick escape into the hallway to his office and out the door that led to the hallway to his classroom.

  I considered waiting for him like he’d originally asked but decided that between his foul mood and encountering Miss Periwinkle again, I was more likely to get hexed than find the answers I needed.

  I was going to have to find another way to find out where Derrick was. I needed a master of divination. Unfortunately, convincing Pro Ro wasn’t going to be easy.

  Pro Ro wasn’t like Vega whom I could buy with favors. I had nothing he wanted anyway. Unless… . He had been complaining about teaching yoga because he didn’t know anything about it. I had taken yoga in Eugene. I wasn’t an expert, but I probably knew more than he did.

  Monday after school, I set up my students in Art Club and left Imani in charge. I found Pro Ro in his classroom at his desk, examining a star chart.

  “Hi,” I said from his doorway.

  He didn’t look up. “Go away.”

  “Sure thing. I was just wondering how the yoga class was going and if you needed any help. But if you want me to leave… .” I stepped back from the door slowly, waiting to see if he took the bait.

  He stood. “Wait! Miss Lawrence, do you know yoga?”

  “I’ve taken classes for years. We could practice together. I could see if I can teach you some new moves.”

  His face flushed red. “Ahem. Well, I suppose. When are you free? Are you free now?”

  “I’m not dressed for yoga. How about I change, and we meet back here? Do you have a yoga mat?”

  His brow furrowed. “What’s that?”

  Had he been teaching yoga without yoga mats? That was brutal.

  “What about a towel? Are you using towels as cushions?”

  “No. Should I?”

  “It might help.”

  I went to my room and changed. I grabbed two clean towels from the bathroom. When I returned, Pro Ro wore the same loose,
flowing clothes, but all the tables and chairs in his room had been pushed back.

  I rolled out the towels and showed him how to use it to cushion his knees.

  “Oh! That’s so much better,” he said.

  Already I could see I was making progress.

  “Why don’t you show me what you can do so I can see what you’re teaching the students, and I’ll give you some feedback. Then I’ll teach you some new moves.”

  “Easy moves?” he asked.

  “Easy and gentle yoga.” Mostly because that was all I knew.

  He demonstrated Cat-Cow, Downward Dog, Upward Dog, and Child’s Pose. I corrected his supine twist.

  “After that, we meditate. I think most of the students fall asleep. Some sneak out.” He cleared his throat. “I pretend not to notice.”

  I demonstrated a sequence of sun salutations, which he mastered beautifully. “So let’s step up your game plan and give them some new moves. We can teach you a routine that you can do as a sequence so that one move flows into the next, and then you can repeat it multiple times.”

  Pro Ro grinned. “This is exactly what I need. It will take up more time!”

  “Great… .” Here was the tricky part coming up—how to ask for what I wanted without sounding like a manipulative witch who was only teaching him yoga because I wanted something from him. Which I sort of was. My lack of social skills didn’t help with this endeavor.

  “So, um, so you think … if this is helpful to you … um… .”

  He stared at me unblinking. He wasn’t going to make this easy.

  “Would you help me divine something when I get done showing you yoga?”

  His smile turned smug. “Ah, so that’s your price?”

  I tried not to let the snootiness of his tone get to me. I wasn’t doing this for myself. I was doing it for Derrick.

  “I need to find a friend,” I said. “Someone I’m afraid was snatched by the Raven Court.”

  He shrugged. “Fine. After you teach me yoga.”

  I demonstrated an easy routine. Twenty minutes into it, Pro Ro was hot and sweaty. I went slow and repeated each move until he got it. The stench of garbage and musky animal wafted into the room. I tried not to gag.

  “Oh boy!” Pinky said from the doorway. “Are you guys doing yoga? You should have told me! I have a yoga mat.”

  Pro Ro choked and held a sleeve over his face.

  We should have closed the door to Pro Ro’s room, but I hadn’t wanted anyone to think we were doing something inappropriate.

  “How about next time?” I asked. “We’re almost done for today.” It was a white lie. Besides the fact that I didn’t think I would be able to exercise and hold my breath at the same time if Pinky joined us, I had a feeling Pinky knew his yoga. He’d said he’d been practicing for over ten years. He would see my years of yoga were an amateur’s three years. If I was going to get Pro Ro to help me, I would need to show him I was an expert in the field with a valuable skill he lacked.

  “Oh,” Pinky said, shoulders sagging. “Yeah, maybe next time.” He trudged away.

  His sasquatch stench lingered.

  Pro Ro opened the window. Frigid air blew into the classroom, fluttering the papers on his desk.

  “It isn’t a good idea to stretch and do yoga while you’re cold,” I said. “It contracts your muscles, and it makes it harder to stretch.”

  “The alternative is worse,” he said.

  Icy raindrops gusted in, and I scooted myself farther from the window. I shivered. Five minutes into the next set, Pro Ro was in the middle of a sequence of Warrior moves when he plopped onto his towel, swearing.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “My back. I’m having a muscle spasm.”

  I rushed to close the window, suspecting the chilly air to be the cause. “What can I do to help?”

  “You said you were going to teach me easy yoga. Gentle yoga.” He groaned and lied still. “That wasn’t gentle.”

  “Why didn’t you say it was too hard?”

  He grunted again.

  “Do you want me to get you something for the pain?” I asked. “An ibuprofen or some kind of potion?”

  “I don’t want any of your potions, and don’t even suggest Nurse Hilda. She’s a menace.”

  “I could get Grandmother Bluehorse. She has herbal remedies.”

  He rolled over and panted. “Just get out. I’ll make my own tonic.”

  “Does that mean you aren’t going to… ?”

  “No.”

  Craptacular. That plan had failed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  A Very Bad Chocolate Prophecy

  Josie burst into my classroom as I sat with students quizzing each other with notecards in Tuesday’s Study Club. “It’s ready! Puck’s chocolate prophecy! Come to the conference room with me.”

  I’d never seen her so excited about anything. I leapt to my feet. “I’ll be back in a few,” I told the students working on Latin.

  Imani gave me a thumbs-up.

  Josie linked arms with me, her cheerful enthusiasm drowning out a fraction of the gloom I’d acquired since Derrick’s disappearance. We traveled up the stairs to the admin wing, pausing in the doorway of the conference room. I didn’t know if I wanted to taste my future. What if it was salty again? I would worry about Derrick even more.

  Under each teacher’s name was taped an envelope, presumably with their chocolate prophecy.

  Thatch held a piece of chocolate in his hand. Josie’s name was written across the envelope. Two envelopes at his feet looked as though they had been stomped on from the way they were crumpled. One was Vega’s.

  Why did he have to be such a jerk? Just when I thought he might not be a complete asshole, he had switched everyone’s prophecy chocolate. This was the second time.

  Maybe it was the pants. He knew about the pants, and this was his revenge on the both of us.

  Josie drew her wand. “What are you doing with my prophecy chocolate?”

  He looked at the square of chocolate in his hand. “I was checking it for poison.”

  “You were not!” Josie stomped over to him, reaching for her chocolate.

  He held it higher than she could reach. Considering he had at least a foot on her, it wasn’t difficult. She spoke in Japanese, her wand glowing green.

  I stood there, not knowing what to do.

  Thatch waved a hand in front of her wand, extinguishing her spell before she completed it. She punched him in the arm. He smiled and did the unthinkable. He shoved the chocolate into his mouth.

  Josie shrieked. “No! Not again. It’s my chocolate!” She grappled with him for her envelope, but he pushed her away and shoved another piece into his mouth.

  “Guys, stop it!” I said. It was embarrassing watching two grown-ups fight like immature teenagers.

  Josie jabbed her wand into his side.

  “Harder. You know what I like,” Thatch said, his mouth full of chocolate.

  I grabbed Josie’s arm before she could give him a serious blow. Anything she did would only make his affinity stronger.

  Thatch’s polished black shoes crunched over broken chocolate on the floor as he backed away. His face was red. He doubled over and choked.

  “Josie! What did you do? You have to unhex him. You’ll lose your job.” I had another thought. “Plus killing someone is wrong.”

  “I didn’t hex him. I was trying a summoning spell.” Her eyes went wide.

  He fell to his knees, one hand grabbing at his throat.

  “Well, use some magic and unchoke him,” I said.

  She closed her eyes, waved her wand at him, and sang something in Japanese. Nothing changed.

  She tried another spell. Still no effect.

  I elbowed her out of the way. I knew Thatch hated being touched—unless it was getting punched apparently—but this was an emergency. I reached my arms around him and tried the Heimlich maneuver.
He was on his knees, so I could reach him at least.

  Thatch coughed up a gob of what might have been caramel, and it went flying onto the front of Josie’s lavender dress. Lucky her. Thatch continued to cough. He crouched on the ground.

  Josie looked from him to her dress, disgust painting her face. “I hate you even more.”

  Blood dripped out of Thatch’s mouth.

  “The chocolate was poisoned,” Thatch said between coughs. “Get Pro Ro or Gertr—” A gush of blood erupted from his mouth.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  A Taste of His Own Medicine

  I shoved Josie toward the door. We needed a powerful Celestor, and who were the most powerful Celestors after Thatch? Pro Ro and Gertrude Periwinkle, apparently. But Pro Ro wasn’t going to help—not after the yoga fiasco.

  “You,” I pointed to Josie. “Get Periwinkle. I’ll get Vega.”

  I didn’t want to leave Thatch dying on the floor, but we needed to get help fast.

  As we ran out of the conference room, I passed Puck’s office where he sat meditating in his Zen garden. “Puck. Emergency in the conference room.”

  Some of the papers swirling around him fluttered to the ground. He gave me a dirty look.

  “Blood. Poison. Thatch,” I said and ran out.

  I ran toward Vega’s classroom, one of the places I usually avoided. Students tried to stop me in the hall, but I ran past them. I burst into Vega’s classroom a moment later.

  She leaned over a student incanting a spell from a book. “Your pronunciation is horrible. If you don’t get a handle on your Latin, you’ll never master the simplest of—”

  I panted. “Thatch. Poison. Conference room.”

  “What is this? A game of clue? I’m busy tutoring one of my juvenile delinquents.” She waved a hand at the young lady.

  The student crossed her arms. “I’m not a juvenile delinquent.”

  “This isn’t a joke,” I said. “He asked for you to come and cure him.” Actually, not her specifically, but I was certain he would have asked for her if he hadn’t choked on his own blood.