Reading, Writing and Necromancy Read online

  I attempted again, catching a fleeting glimpse of Derrick but nothing more.

  Maybe I had to go to him. I needed an exit. I pushed at the fabric of the dream and made room in a hedge of roses for a door. It filled an arched frame like one I might find in the great hall of the school, solid wood, and decorated with an iron ring pull.

  The door floated in midair, surreal and out of place, but simultaneously natural in this strange dreamscape. Before my eyes, the door shifted from a natural wood to one painted red. The iron ring transitioned into a handle covered with swirling designs. I supposed that would work, but I wondered why my subconscious hadn’t kept the door I’d imagined. Did the red represent my affinity? Or love?

  Or danger?

  I opened the door and glided through. Beyond my dream garden lay a desolate landscape dotted with lights.

  I flew from my door and out across a horizon of rocks and dust. Sparkles caught my eye as I swept over the terrain. A green light glittered below, and it reminded me of Grandmother Bluehorse. A fiery orange one made me think of Hailey Achilles. Another tasted like Josie. I wasn’t sure how I understood what I was seeing or where to go, but my intuition guided me. The landscape shimmered with a rainbow of constellations that tasted like the essence of each individual at the school.

  A bright blue light glowed on the horizon, set apart from the other lights. Was that Derrick?

  I ignored the stars speckled along the hills and valleys around me and journeyed toward the far dot of blue. The closer I drew to it, the farther away it felt. I pushed harder, reaching out my hand to touch that star. My arm stretched infinitely long, and my fingers turned into strings of taffy, time slowing and warping around me. The moment reminded me of science-fiction movies as travelers approached an event horizon.

  That probably meant I would be trapped here.

  Despair weighed down on me, tempting me to return to my own dream and my own body. Instead, I pushed harder.

  Something popped, and vertigo washed over me. All at once, I held that light. I fell upon it, finding myself colliding into a new door.

  It glowed with a cold cobalt reminding me of an arctic wind. There was no handle. I pushed, but to no avail. I dug my fingers into the surface. The smooth material remained impenetrable. There had been a doorknob the last time I’d entered Derrick’s subconscious. His mind had opened to me, unlocked and unguarded.

  I didn’t know if my affinity could work for me while I was in this dreamland, or if I could possibly do anything from there that could give myself more power. I caressed the door, imagining Derrick’s skin. I leaned my cheek against a patch of beryl wood, the surface warming under my touch. It no longer felt hard and unyielding, but softer. Muscle moved under the surface of skin as I massaged the door. I brushed my lips against the barrier to his mind and smelled him: Cheetos, Old Spice, and wind carrying the scent of faraway places.

  My fingers tingled. Something shifted, but I couldn’t place my finger on what until I drew back. A keyhole materialized about midway down.

  I bent to look inside. The Raven Queen’s dungeon waited on the other side, every bit as scary as it had been in his memories. Midnight feathers brushed the dungeon away. I saw a flash of naked bodies, an orgy of men and women intertwined. Like the shutter of a camera, darkness swept over the scene only to open to a new picture. Someone screamed as a cluster of ravens swooped down and pecked at a huddled form. It sounded like Derrick. The image darkened, but the wail continued as I glimpsed a different moment. His eyes were wide with horror, and he tried to claw his way out of a small enclosed space. It looked like a coffin.

  In another flicker, I saw myself, but wearing patent-leather attire that would have been appropriate for a dominatrix. This other version of myself lashed out at Derrick with a whip while he was chained to the wall. A bird flew out of his mouth and up the stairwell to escape. Had the Raven Queen altered his memories to make him think I had been there torturing him? Or was that a dream of me as the Raven Queen?

  The sight of this evil doppelganger sent dread shuddering through me. I didn’t want Derrick to see me that way. It had thrilled me momentarily when teachers who had snubbed me thought I looked like my mother and reacted in fear, but I didn’t want Derrick to be afraid of me.

  The pain and fear in his voice melted into a moan of pleasure. A black rainbow, dripping like an oil slick, poured over my vision. The Raven Queen laughed. Pulses of dark disturbing images came and went.

  “Like this, my child,” the Raven Queen said. “This is how we drain those we find expendable.”

  She showed him how to torture and kill. The skin of her victim shriveled and blackened, energy and life wicked away as she demonstrated how to serve her needs.

  I shivered and drew away from the keyhole. My affinity shrank to the pit of my belly, so small it felt as though it didn’t exist. Pity rose up inside me, muddling my resolve. My magic didn’t like what I was seeing. It was hard to bring pleasure to my body so that my magic could be strong when sorrow overwhelmed me.

  This was Derrick’s subconscious. I didn’t want to enter Derrick’s dreams. He was remembering, though I didn’t know how some of those images were possible.

  I hadn’t been able to handle what I’d seen before in Khaba’s office. My separation from what had happened to him became compromised as I sank in and felt what he’d felt. Now as I watched from a distance, I wanted to turn away. If I did, I couldn’t help him.

  If I walked through that door to his dreams, perhaps it could help me understand what he’d been through. Perhaps I could help him change the dream so he might become more empowered over his subconscious mind like I had done with Thatch’s help. I couldn’t leave him in his nightmares. He would have done anything for me.

  I had to rescue him from himself.

  Yet the door was locked. I had no key. Then again, maybe I didn’t need one. I touched my finger to the keyhole and projected myself forward, squeezing through the hole and propelling myself through the door to the other side.

  Thatch stood there, a lone figure under a spotlight. I stared at him, startled. He hadn’t been there before.

  He looked around, his brow furrowing in confusion. The flashes of memory were gone. I couldn’t tell if Thatch was part of Derrick’s subconscious, or this was a memory from being tortured in the Raven Queen’s dungeon.

  Thatch’s gaze settled on me and his eyes narrowed. His voice was a cool monotone. “Clarissa Lawrence, I told you to leave Derrick be.”

  Apparently, this apparition was neither. It was the real Thatch.

  “I’m not going to let you keep me from—”

  “Get out.” He held up his hand.

  Energy pushed out of him and into me. I tried to stand my ground, but my feet skidded back. My body compressed and shrank. I squeezed out the keyhole to the other side. Thatch’s magic blew me out across the expanse of the landscape, the lights below passing at a dizzying speed. I drew back into my own consciousness as though pulled by a rope. My belly flip-flopped, the same sensation I remembered from playing on a swing as a child at that moment I’d gone too high.

  I snapped back into my body and opened my eyes. My winded breathing greeted my ears. Vega’s shallow breathing came from the darkness nearby. I sat up in my bed.

  I had succeeded, if only for a moment. I fumbled for my water bottle and took a swig before lying back down.

  The moment I closed my eyes, Vega’s voice startled me enough to make me jump. “Guess who Khaba appointed as the temporary Celestor department head?” Vega asked.

  “Um … you?”

  “Exactly!” She chuckled. “I’ve waited so long for this moment. I can hardly sleep! I have so many plans for tomorrow.”

  Wow. So all that time I’d been meditating to save the world—or at least save Derrick—she’d been imagining all the ways she intended to take over the world—or at least dominate the Celestor department.

  “Did Khaba tell you wh
y you’re taking over for Thatch?” I asked.

  “Don’t know. Don’t care.” Her bed creaked. “Okay, so I do, just a little, and Khaba promised me he’ll tell me after Jeb officially fires Thatch, but the reason doesn’t matter. As long as he doesn’t choose someone else in my department like Darshan or Josie over me for the permanent position I’m happy.”

  “And you’ll get that room to yourself you always wanted.”

  “I’ll get the entire dungeon.”

  I considered Vega’s motives. I knew what she wanted. If I could use that to my advantage, I could convince her to help me.

  “You’re only going to get Thatch’s room and the department head position if Khaba can prove Thatch has been conspiring with the Raven Queen. If you can help Khaba find Derrick—the invisible man—he’ll be able to testify against Thatch and provide evidence that—” My voice cut out as though the volume had just been turned off.

  “I’m not joining you in another one of your stupid quests,” Vega said coolly. “If I involve myself in necromancy again and someone finds out, they’ll sack me instead of giving me Thatch’s position. Don’t you dare do anything that would ruin this career move for me. Do you understand?”

  So much for getting Vega to help me. I would need to find someone else.

  When Jeb had thought students had stolen the answer keys to the spring exams, the three people who had been instrumental in the search had been Pro Ro, Khaba, and Thatch. Obviously, I couldn’t get help from Thatch. Khaba had already tried to locate Derrick and failed.

  That left Pro Ro, a divination master. Unfortunately, he hated me.

  Still, I had to try.

  I had to make Pro Ro help me. I had asked nicely. I had offered to help him. I had tried to get Pinky to trade electives with him. There was only one thing left that I could do.

  I was going to have to embrace my inner Vega and be evil. Blackmail was my only option left. I would do anything for Derrick, even become a wicked witch.

  I knew from reading textbooks that diviners often needed an object that belonged to the person they wanted to locate. When Pro Ro had previously tried to cast wards on me, he had used a photograph. For that reason, I brought my sketchpad with me to show him the drawings Derrick had made.

  Before school, Pro Ro wasn’t in. During my prep, he was teaching. At lunch I had a duty. After school, he wasn’t in his classroom, so I knocked on Pro Ro’s dormitory door. He didn’t answer. I knocked again.

  All I had to do was tell Pro Ro I would tell Thatch about him and Periwinkle. Or I could tell Jeb, and then he’d lose his job.

  As I stood there, I started to lose my nerve. Pro Ro was a powerful Celestor. He might not react as mildly as Periwinkle had with a tongue-twister jinx. He could probably wipe my memories away with the snap of his fingers, make my tongue fall out of my mouth, or some other horrible thing if I tried to tell.

  It sucked being the least skilled witch in the workplace.

  I had sunk to a new low if I considered blackmail the best way to convince my coworkers of helping me. Even so, it was all I had. I didn’t care if my coworkers hated me if I saved Derrick.

  I knocked again. There was no answer.

  After dinner, I tried his dorm room again. Pro Ro didn’t answer. I went to the library. Maddy said she hadn’t seen him. He wasn’t in his classroom or the astronomy tower either. Maybe he had divined that I would pester him, so he preemptively left his room to avoid me. He wasn’t in the staffroom.

  I trudged through the halls before curfew, asking students if they had seen him.

  “He’s with Mr. Pinky in his classroom,” Chase Othello said.

  Pinky? It was hard to believe Pro Ro would voluntarily go anywhere near the smelly sasquatch. I ran to Pinky’s room, arriving out of breath.

  Pinky and Pro Ro sat at the teacher’s desk, going over some papers together.

  Pinky looked up and waved. “Hello, Miss Lawrence. We were just talking about you!”

  “Oh boy,” I said. That didn’t sound good.

  “Don’t worry.” Pro Ro laughed, his belly shaking up and down as he did so. “I didn’t say anything bad.”

  The two of them exchanged amused smiles and busted up. Right. Pro Ro had probably told him about the turban incident. On the other hand, Pro Ro was in the same room with me, and he was smiling. This was the friendliest Pro Ro had acted toward me in months.

  It suddenly hit me what else was different. Pinky didn’t smell. His fur was glossy and clean. The dark mud color that I thought had been the hue of his hair was actually a warm chestnut. None of his fur was matted.

  Pinky had listened to me! Did that mean he had traded classes with Pro Ro? I didn’t know how to broach the subject without being rude.

  “So, um, are you two . . . have you been able to get Puck to agree to . . . um… .” I started. “Is Mr. Pinky teaching yoga?”

  “Yessiree,” Pinky said. “Pro Ro is getting my Latin class. Really, they should have just asked me to teach yoga to begin with, but no one thinks about asking a sasquatch if he can do yoga. It is so speciesist.”

  I sighed in relief. I looked to Pro Ro. “Does that mean you’ll help me with. . . ?”

  Pro Ro grimaced. “We’re just about done here anyway. I’ll help you divine your love life or whatever it is you need.”

  Score! I was on my way to finding Derrick.

  Pinky gave me a thumbs-up. Pro Ro took me to his classroom. I told him an edited version of what I needed.

  “Do you have a photo of your friend? Or anything that belonged to him?”

  I held out my sketchpad and showed him my drawings of Derrick.

  “Hmm,” he said. “I don’t know if a drawing will work.”

  I turned to the page where I’d nestled the sketch he’d done of me. “This belongs to my friend. He made this one. But I can go to his room and get something else if that helps.”

  “This will do.”

  He set a cauldron on a table and threw some herbs into it. He waved his wand over it and muttered something in another language. Shimmers of light spiraled out of the cauldron. His magic smelled like starlight and oddly enough, spaghetti with meatballs. The sparks blossomed in size, melding together and turning into blue and purple flames. Pro Ro stared into the flames, his eyes glossing over. This was a kind of scrying. I didn’t know exactly how it worked, but from an outside perspective it didn’t look like much was happening.

  Pro Ro’s eyes turned milky white. His lips parted. A long buzzing note that sounded like a thousand flies swarming around us came out of his mouth. The sound got under my skin and made me twitch. It took all my willpower to remain sitting there.

  I’d never known how freaky his magic was until now.

  When Pro Ro spoke again, his voice had returned to normal. “He’s below the school. Not in the dungeon. Somewhere lower.”

  “The crypt?” I asked.

  He blinked away the cataracts over his eyes. “There are corpses on the same level, but he’s not in a crypt.” His eyes returned to their dark shade of amber brown. “I think he’s in the same chamber as the answer keys.”

  “Do you know where that is?”

  “No. Only Jeb and Mr. Thatch have been down there.” He studied me. “Why is your friend down there? Does this have something to do with the man that tried to attack you and Mr. Thatch yesterday? Did he hurt your friend too?”

  I bit my lip, uncertain whether I should tell him more. Getting Pinky to trade a yoga class with Pro Ro didn’t necessarily make him my BFF.

  Pro Ro extinguished the fire in his cauldron and dumped the contents out a window. “Miss Bloodmire seems to think Mr. Thatch has committed some sort of crime—hence the reason she’s filling in as department head.” He made a face. “She gave me two of his classes to teach today and all her duties. I pray Mr. Thatch returns to teaching soon.”

  “Can you tell me where my friend is trapped?” I asked.

 
“I might be able to show you where he is on a map, but I don’t advise you go looking for him. The room is guarded with booby traps and deadly creatures.”

  Of course it was.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Damned If You Don’t

  It was time to call in more favors. Aside from Vega—who had no reason to assist me—I only knew three other individuals who had successfully gotten down into the school’s secret passages and survived: Hailey Achilles, Ben O’Sullivan, and Balthasar Llewelyn.

  By the time Pro Ro had finished scrying more details, it was an hour past students’ curfew, and they were in bed. I was supposed to be going to bed soon, but I didn’t allow that to stop me from sneaking around the school, trying to rescue Derrick.

  I tiptoed into the girls’ dormitory under my dirty invisibility Snuggie. Most students were in bed, but several of the girls sat on each other’s beds, whispering and talking. Hailey and Maddy shared a bed on the far side of the room in the corner. Hailey’s face was lit by the blue light of what I suspected was a cell phone. The two of them held a magazine with some teen heartthrob’s photo on the cover. Apparently they didn’t get enough time to read about movie stars and musicians during the day.

  “Hey,” I whispered. “That better not be a cell phone.”

  Hailey’s eyes went wide. Maddy looked around, her brow furrowing. Even though my cloak wasn’t completely invisible anymore, and it was spotted with dirt, it still worked well enough in the dark. It was fun to see their confusion. Maybe I was turning a little bit evil.

  “Miss Lawrence?” Maddy asked.

  I pulled back my hood.

  Hailey tossed the magazine aside. “I will have you know, I was using my wand, not a cell phone.” She held it up, making a face at me.

  “Good. I’m glad to hear it. I want you strong so Fae don’t snatch you.”