Chapter Fourteen

Outside my door, I nearly had a heart attack as a raven landed in a flurry of wings. It had a roll of parchment in its beak, and it set it down at my feet before flying off again.

Bending, I picked it up and unrolled it.

Dear Dawn, Thank you so much for the lovely Parents’ Weekend at White Magic Academy. We had a great time.

Please visit when you can.

Love, Dad I blinked at the letter, none of it registering at all. White Magic Academy. Parents’ Weekend. But…I wasn’t there. I read the letter again. And again. It was written in Dad’s handwriting, but…I was here. How could they have seen me somewhere that I wasn’t? I’d written to him, told him and Mom not to come. But they had and they’d visited…me. What in seven hells was happening?

I was losing my mind. That was it, wasn’t it? Or was this Ramsey doing a little psychological warfare before he wiped me from existence?

The arrogant prick needed to die.

Crumpling the scroll up, I stashed it in my doll pocket, and making sure the hall was empty, slipped my hand into the dead man’s.

“Umbra deambulatio,” I whispered.

I melted into the shadows until I became one, the hallway’s black stone the perfect camouflage for a woman with a hidden knife and a deadly purpose.

But before I left, I needed to make one quick stop. I headed left toward Morrissey and Echo's room and then stopped, low voices drifting from within. With my shadowy finger, I drew a protection symbol on the door that according to Professor Turtle, would blare an alarm if certain tensions like from fright or anger were detected. If something happened in there while I was stalking Ramsey, someone needed to come running and help. It wasn't that I didn't trust Morrissey and Echo. Not exactly. It was that I didn't trust everyone else. Especially Ramsey. Especially the Diabolicals who could quite possibly drift over here while I shadow-walked over there.

Once I finished the last squiggled triangle, I left, and I didn't look back. At the foot of the stairs in the entryway, my form recoiled as I neared the space where Vickie's body had been. I quickly flitted around it even though all traces of what happened had been totally erased. My mind filled in all of it with vivid detail anyway, and a tremor rippled through my darkness like I was made up of ink.

Except for a few stragglers striding up the stairs with steaming plates of food, the entire school seemed deserted of students. Inside the Gathering Room, however, the professors sat alone at the student tables, none of them eating but all of them talking at once.

“What could have done that to her?” Mrs. Tentorville, the librarian, asked, her voice nearing hysterical. “And not a trace of magic anywhere on her. There’s no way her injuries resulted from a simple fall though.”

Professor Woolery sniffled. “This has to be related to Henry Wadluck, right? Is he dead too?”

"We need to close the school down until we know who did this," Professor Lipskin said, and beat his fist against the table.

"The Ministry of Law Enforcement are on their way. We will do what they tell us to do," Headmistress Millington fired back. "Vickie's family is also on their way here, and we need to be respectful of them by not getting too emotional ourselves.”

Her words speared me from behind and penetrated through to my conscience. I was about to make their jobs so much harder if—when—they discovered another dead student. Never mind that though. It had to be done.

Outside the junior boys' door, I paused. I still didn't know where Ramsey’s room was, so a little peeping would be necessary. Hopefully no one would be naked. Or hell, let them all be naked. What did I care? Ramsey, too, so he'd be even more vulnerable. I pushed through the dorm’s door and drifted in and out of several empty rooms. The next room had one lone boy in it, and it stank. Badly. Even with my nose a shadow, my whole sense of smell coiled in on itself. I got out of there fast.

In the room directly across the hall, I found him.

He sat at his desk, his back facing me, and he stared at the wall. As one might do when they hear their killer slide underneath their door, apparently.

"I wondered when you'd show up," he said, without turning. Without moving.

An edge of doubt scraped over my awareness as I reformed. If he knew I was here, why not try to stop me? I didn't trust it, and I sure as hell didn't trust him. I searched the space between us for any protection symbols or devil's traps on the walls and floors, but there was nothing. Nothing visible anyway.

I kept quiet, daring him to make a move, and retrieved my knife from my boot. My whole body was coiled to spring, yet somehow calm. Ready. I’d been waiting five months for this moment, so I’d better be ready.

"I know why you're here." He scooted his chair back and started to rise slowly, then turned to face me.

It was the first time I’d seen him without his cloak, yet he still wore all black. The sleeves of his buttoned shirt were rolled up to his elbows, the shirt itself tucked into his pants and hugging his broad shoulders. He didn't seem worried or scared in the least, his stance relaxed, his face carved from stone except for that haughty eyebrow of his half hidden behind his messy dark hair.

"That makes two of us." I adjusted my grip on my knife.

His gray gaze flicked to the knife and back without even a flinch. "Will you let me explain?"

"For your sake, I’d say that’s a damn good idea.”

That eyebrow rose a fraction higher as he regarded me coolly for a moment. "Do you know who Ryze is?"

"Of course, I do," I snapped.

"Then you know people are helping him by trying to activate the Stones of Amaria."

"Yes, and you're supposed to be protecting the onyx stone. You and the Diabolicals."

"You've been doing your homework, I see." He tipped his chin up and then clasped his hands behind his back.

I homed in on his every move. "Well, I didn't just go to the library to petrify you that day."

"Ah," he said with a sigh. "And I suppose you found most of the pages ripped out?"

"Was that you?" I fired back.

"No, it wasn't me. Someone else at this school who’s helping Ryze.” His jaw pulsed, and something passed behind his eyes like a shadow. “Someone working against the Diabolicals.”

“To get to the onyx stone.”

A nod.

“Someone like you,” I said, my tone deadly as poison.

He gazed down at the space between us, the torchlight from the sconces sharpening the cut of his cheekbones and jaw. “That first night when I caught you up here, you looked at me with…so much hatred, more than I could even imagine, so I did some digging.” He returned his thunderstorm gaze to me, and his face softened a fraction. “I found out who you are. I found out about your brother, Leo."

My stomach twisted one way at the mention of Leo, and my mind went the other. I took a step toward him. "What do you mean you found out about him? What did you find? When?"

Slowly, he loosened his clasped hands behind him and brought his arms to his sides again. "I learned that he was here for an interview for a professor position, and then he came back, even after he turned the offer down." He tilted his head, studying me. "Do you know Tylvia Snider? She's a sophomore?"

Huh? That was random. "No."

"That night. That night when Vickie attacked you…” He swallowed, something flickering across his expression other than torchlight. “Tylvia showed me glimpses of visions of your brother in her crystal ball. One was the second time he came here." 

Crystal ball magic was rare since most people only saw light refracting and bouncing, but it was known to be a highly accurate form of divination for those who could use it.

"And?" I said.

“He was talking about sleepwalking, that he felt something was calling him back here."

My lungs squeezed together painfully, and I realized I hadn't drawn a breath in a while. "That's what Headmistress Millington said."

"Dawn.”

I flinched at his use of my name.

“I never met your brother. I swear to you. He was a complete stranger in Tylvia's visions, but I think something, someone, latched onto him while he was here the first time and didn't let go."

Just as they had Seph. Both good people with hearts as big as their heads.

"Who?" I croaked. “Why?”

"Someone inside this school. Someone helping Ryze get the onyx stone to activate it,” he said. “It's guarded by powerful wards and hexes, but there's one problem."

I arched an eyebrow. "Just one?"

"There's a loophole, and it’s caused by the stone itself. By the power inside it. Ryze’s power. It's calling to people, whispering its secrets, and corrupting inherently good souls.” He waved his hand vaguely in the air. “You think your brother was the first?"

"My brother wasn't corrupt."

"No, but he would've been if he'd touched that stone filled with Ryze’s darkest powers."

"So, you murdered him before he could."

His mouth flattened into a thin line, and the storm brewing in his eyes grew darker. "I didn't. I swear it. I know what you thought you saw, Dawn. I saw it, too, in the crystal ball. But it wasn't me."

"It was you," I hissed. Anger rekindled in my gut at his lies. Why couldn’t he just admit what he’d done?

"No, it was a copy of me," he insisted.

I opened my mouth to call bullshit but then shut it. A copy…

Thank you so much for the lovely Parents’ Weekend at White Magic Academy. We had a great time.

But why would someone make a copy of me at White Magic Academy?

“Wh-what do you mean?” I asked.

“I mean a skin-walker.”

I shook my head hard. “That’s even darker magic than—”

“Shadow-walking. I know, and you need an eyeball from a random twin to see the world as anyone’s twin. I thought you were involved in the plot to get the stone at first.” His gaze searched my face, a look of desperation pinching his features. “Now, I see that I was wrong.”

He was lying. The Ministry of Law Enforcement had confirmed there wasn’t a trace of magic around my brother, dark or otherwise, and there would be with a skin-walker. There was no way to block magic’s signature because even a magical block had a signature. He was trying to steer me in the wrong direction, away from him.

“You think this skin-walker killed Vickie? Did something with Professor Wadluck to get at the stone?” I asked.

He sighed and raked his hand through his hair. “I don’t know. All I know is that I’ve never killed anyone, and it’s not safe to trust anyone at this school.”

Such a smooth liar, this one. No wonder he fooled everyone with his golden boy looks and a velvety deep voice that reminded me of crystallized honey. I wasn’t fooled for one bit.

“So Ryze needs someone with a good soul to activate the onyx stone.” I shrugged like it didn’t matter. “Then what?”

“Well, you’d probably have to ask him, but I’m guessing it won’t be fun and games for the rest of us like it wasn’t all those years ago.”

So, slavery, torture, and necromancy of humankind. That would get ugly fast. There was no doubt in my mind that someone was helping Ryze, but none of what Ramsey had said so far proved it wasn’t him.

I took one step closer. “You have black salt to strip magic away and the Diabolicals to torment people, so why not use those things at your disposal and find out who this skin-walker is?”

He flicked his gaze to my knife again, seeming to watch me as closely as I was watching him. “The Diabolicals and I have thrown black salt at every student and staff member since the start of school. We haven’t found a thing.”

Because the skin-walker didn’t have magic to strip away. But how could you be a skin-walker without magic? Like he’d said, you needed a twin’s eye, much like I needed a dead murderer’s hand. There was no way to do it without magic. Just like there was no way for me to shadow-walk without magic or to practice necromancy without magic. If I could necromance, anyway. Which meant that none of what Ramsey was saying was true. He was trying to buy himself more time, spin me in circles until I began to doubt everything.

It wouldn’t work.

“You don’t believe me.” His eyes narrowed as they scanned my entire face.

“Good call.”

He widened his stance slightly, his shoulders tensing. “So now what?”

“Now what?” Oh, he knew exactly. I shot out my hand for the petrification spell. “Obrigesunt.”

The orange ball burst from my palm, but he sidestepped it easily, not a damn hair out of place.

I dropped my arm and gritted my teeth, a violent quake rolling through me.

“What else?” He curled the fingers of both hands at me, though instead of the usual arrogance written across his face, he looked completely blank. Not how he was supposed to look at all with a murderer in his dorm room. I wanted him scared and twitching and begging. I wanted him to apologize and not look so bored.

With a sound I’d never made before, I charged, my dagger raised. Moving as gracefully as water, he grabbed my knife hand like he’d taught us how to with a punch in P.P.E., pivoted, and bent my wrist back to force me to drop it. I spun away, though, but he was already surging toward me. Using the momentum of his body, he slammed my hip into the edge of the desk, making me finally let go of the knife. He scooped it out of the air with the speed of a predator. I cried out in pain. In fury.

He pressed in close, caging me against his desk with his body as he tried to subdue my flailing arms. “Stop, Dawn, please.” His breath brushed too hot over my forehead, and I squirmed harder. “I can find Tylvia. Have her show you where I was the night your brother died.”

“He was murdered!” I yelled right into the sonofawitch’s face. “You did that!”

His blank expression shifted into something I could only describe as pity for a split-second. A split-second too long for him to be unable to block my swift knee right between his legs. He released me instantly, his sharp inhale making the growing darkness inside me smile.

With his attention preoccupied, I yanked the blade away from him, flipped it around, and thrust it right for his throat. He dodged, just barely, and fell flat on his back on his bed. I leaped at him and pinned him underneath me, straddling his hips, my knife already at his throat.

But I couldn’t see his face clearly. It was then that I realized I was crying. Why, though, when I’d won? I could kill him right now and be done with it. I could have my revenge. Have some sort of closure over my hero’s murder.

Instead, I choked out, “Apologize.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, keeping my gaze, and he sounded…genuine? “I’m sorry I sent the Diabolicals after you and your roommate. I’m sorry Vickie turned your food into bugs.” Then he turned his head toward his desk, granting me access to even more of his throat.

I hesitated, though, because something beat at the back of my mind. A few pieces that didn’t quite fit. Like the twisted doll and Vickie’s death. Like my existence at White Magic Academy while I was here.

Like why Ramsey, a mage who radiated power and strength, wasn’t fighting back.

But even louder than that were the footsteps thudding outside the door.

I followed Ramsey’s gaze. There, drawn on the underside of his desk, glowed a protection symbol similar to the one I’d drawn on Morrissey and Echo’s door to keep Seph safe. The one with the alarm when tensions were raised. Ramsey’s symbol pulsed red like it was blaring silently. My rage must’ve triggered it.

A light touch brushed the tears on my cheek and then cupped it gently. “I’m so sorry, Dawn. I can help you find your brother’s real killer, but I can’t do that if you don’t trust me.”

His door burst open and framed in the flickering torchlight in the room stood Headmistress Millington and a dozen or so cloaked Diabolicals behind her. Her jaw dropped as she saw me with a knife at Ramsey’s throat.

“What…?” And then her gaze fell to my cloak. Or more specifically what was dangling out of it.

The doll that had been in my pocket. Vickie’s doll, with a long, red, very obvious curl trailing out from its head and its neck and limbs bent at unnatural angles.

This did not look good. This did not look good at all. This looked like I was the killer stalking Necromancer Academy, even though I wasn’t.

And I’d just been caught.