The Haunted High Series Book 2- The Ghost Files Page 10

  For lack of a better option, I approached Mercer’s box in the far corner. I carried it to the table, then, using the same care he had demonstrated, I took out the black candlestick holder the man had used when he first revealed the flame. I then opened the smaller box inside the big one. The green flame of the imitation demon fire sprang to life the moment the candle met the air. Using the tongs set inside the box for that reason, I gently lifted the candle and set it on top of the dark wood. The green light reached eagerly into the air far higher than a normal flame would have. I put the box away and then stared at the fire. My mouth felt dry.

  “I can beat this,” I said aloud.

  I shoved my left hand into the flame, careful not to let it lap low enough to awaken Sparrow. The agony of fire touching my skin made me clench my other hand into a fist. I used the pain of my damaged palm to center myself and let out a breath. I told myself that I was in control, that the burning I felt was just an illusion. The demon fire couldn’t hurt me if I didn’t lose concentration. As long as I believed it wasn’t melting my skin, the fire had no power.

  But the pain was excruciating. I felt the minute details of my skin burning through, of the marrow of my bones beginning to simmer, and of my muscles and tendons peeling back from the wound. My hand shook and I fought to keep it there as long as I could. I counted my heartbeats as I watched the flame lap through my hand the way it had done when I fought the demon. I sucked in another breath, held it for ten heartbeats, then let it out and pulled my hand back.

  Relief filled me when the hole that had burned through my skin vanished and the flesh appeared intact once more. I moved my fingers to remind myself that the fire had no power over me. But it wasn’t my left hand I was worried about. If a demon attacked, I needed to be able to use both hands to defend myself. If I couldn’t, I would put every life at risk and I would have no chance of freeing Amryn.

  I let out a slow breath and stuck my right hand over the flame. The green fire immediately ate through the bandages covering my hand. I bit back a cry as the pain doubled. My knees threatened to give way. I leaned against the table, determined to do better than a few seconds. Sweat beaded on my forehead as the scent of burning flesh tangled in my nostrils. My fingers shook and soon my hand and then my arm followed. It was all I could do to tell myself that the fire didn’t affect me. Tears filled my eyes and then flowed down my cheeks.

  I heard footsteps coming down the stairs from the passage beyond. I willed myself to pretend that it was another demon trying to distract me so that I would let the fire burn my hand through completely. I refused to let the fire win, but the pain was nearly too much.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  I sucked in a breath and pulled my hand free. I clenched it into a fist that hurt but not nearly as bad as it had in the fire. It took me several seconds to collect myself before I could meet Vicken’s gaze.

  “I’m practicing,” I said. I forced my words not to tremble and betray how hard it had been on me.

  His eyes widened at the look on my face. I realized I still had tears on my cheeks. Embarrassed, I turned away and used my sleeve to wipe them off.

  “I’m not sure it’s worth all that,” he said, his voice careful.

  I shook my head without looking at him. “Withstanding the pain is the only chance I have of saving your sister. I have to last longer than that.”

  “You’re not the only one who can go against it,” Vicken said, though he sounded unsure.

  I made myself meet his gaze across the fire. “Who else is going to do it?” I asked. “We need Lyris and Brack to chant, Dara and Alden can’t do it, and I won’t ask vampires to face their greatest fear.”

  “Why not?”

  His words were quiet, contemplative. I realized his gaze was on the flame instead of me. The flickering light appeared eerie as it reflected in his yellow irises. Fear showed in their depths. Even though the flame was small, I knew his fears weren’t to be downplayed.

  When he reached his hand toward the flame, I said, “You don’t have to do that.”

  He hesitated with his fingers an inch from the fire.

  “You and I both want to save my sister,” he said. “It’s time I vamp up and do my part.”

  He shoved his hand into the flame.

  His eyes widened at the all-too-real pain. I could see it on his face, the way he felt as if his flesh was melting. The fear became something more, as if losing his hand wasn’t the only terror the fire could cause. His face twisted. I hurried to his side and put my hand on his arm. In the same way I had seen memories from the fox and two-headed cat, I pulled inward.

  I saw the flame running up his arm and then encompassing his body. It spread quickly to the Academy, engulfing the school and all within in its grasp. The fire raced to a mansion on the edge of a great city and swallowed it as well until everything Vicken loved was devoured by green, writhing flames.

  “I can’t,” Vicken said, pulling his hand free.

  I let go and stared at him, my heart racing with the thoughts I had seen.

  Vicken lowered his gaze and shook his head with abject disappointment on his face. “I can’t do it,” he said again. “I’m a coward.”

  “You’re not a coward,” I told him. “You tried even though I know how much you fear the fire.”

  “How can you know?” he asked. He spun to face me. “How can you even begin to understand?”

  I realized he had no idea I had seen what he feared. I figured it wasn’t the time to tell him. I looked back at the flame. “I’ll keep practicing. I need to be ready for when we track down your sister.”

  Vicken’s eyes narrowed. “We don’t even have a lead, Finn. How are we possibly going to find her?” He shook his head. “You look like you’re going to drop at any moment. Go get some sleep. Maybe you could actually think of how to find Amryn if you’re not dead on your feet.”

  He left with those words ringing in my ears. I looked back at the candle, but I didn’t have the strength to face it again that night. Taking the same care I did with putting it up, I set the flame back in its box and put it away. I reached for the box I had found in my mother’s belongings, but then left it there with the thought that it would be much safer in the basement of the Academy than in my room.

  I jogged slowly up the stairs, peeked through the spyholes beside the unicorn painting, then slipped out. Nobody was in the halls that late at night, or was it early in the morning? By the time I plugged my cellphone back in and fell into bed, I was sure the line between night and morning had definitely blurred.

  “Goodnight,” I said to the ghosts who stood around Alden’s sleeping form. None of them answered me, but at least there were no green flames flickering in their gazes. I closed my eyes.

  Vicken’s voice repeated in my mind. ‘Maybe you could actually think of how to find Amryn.”

  I closed my eyes with the hope that sleep was all I needed for that to happen.

  Chapter Nine

  I opened my eyes and found myself standing. I blinked and realized I was in the cemetery again. The grass felt cold beneath my bare feet and the midnight breeze sent a chill across my arms. I glanced around at the sound of voices.

  “Finn,” someone whispered to my right.

  I spotted Alden crouched behind one of the tombstones. He motioned for me to join him. At the urgent look on his face, I did so. It took me a moment to realize why it seemed strange to see him. He was alone; the ghosts that had become his constant companions had apparently given him a break for a moment.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked him.

  He motioned for me to keep my voice down and whispered, “I saw you sleepwalking, so I followed you here.”

  “Why are we being quiet?” I asked.

  “Look,” he said. He pointed over the tombstone.

  I rose up on my knees and looked where he indicated.

  Professor Briggs sat on the grass with his bad leg stretched in front of him. Perched o
n her tombstone, Mezania smiled down at him. But when she tipped her head, moonlight reflected off of tears that trailed down her cheeks. When Briggs looked up at her, matching tears showed on his face.

  “I want to be a ghost with you,” Briggs said, his voice thick with emotions. “You shouldn’t have to be there without me.”

  “I want you to live,” Mezania replied. She bent down and set a ghostly hand on his cheek. Her fingers brushed through instead of touching him. “I want you to live for both of us.”

  He shook his head as he held his cheek where her hand should have been. “I want to live where you live, even if that means we’re both ghosts.”

  “You’re needed here,” Mezania said. “Your students need you.”

  “I can’t do it without you,” Briggs replied.

  “But you must,” Mezania told him, her voice breaking.

  I felt horrible for overhearing such a personal conversation and knew that was why Alden was hiding. I slumped back down with my shoulders against the tombstone and gave him a sad look. The Grim nodded back with a sorrow-filled expression of his own.

  I covered my ears to keep from overhearing more. My gaze drifted across the stones around us, then settled on one just over Alden’s shoulder. A scent touched my nose and my blood ran cold. I rose to my feet.

  “Finn, what are you doing?” Alden hissed.

  He tried to pull me back down, but my attention stayed locked on the tombstone. I glanced back to verify what I already knew.

  “What is this?” I asked aloud.

  “What are you doing here?” Briggs demanded.

  I heard him rise from his place near Mezania.

  “He, uh, sleepwalked and I followed him,” Alden said, fumbling over his words behind me.

  “Stay away from Zanie,” Briggs told him in a growl. “Neither of you should be here.”

  The professor grabbed my shoulder in a rough grip and tried to turn me around, but I refused to budge. I wish I had control of whatever werewolf strength made me so strong, but I didn’t. At that moment, my feet were glued to the grass and I doubted the professor could have moved me even if he had been completely whole. He gave up and turned his attention to where I looked.

  “What does that say?” I asked.

  Scents of cinnamon and dew warred with the sulfurous cloying smell of demons. Among them, I could also smell the coppery scent of vampire.

  “Every time I wake up here, I’m facing this direction,” I said without taking my eyes off the tomb and the strange writing that marred the front of it. At first, I had taken them for scratches, but now it was obvious the marks were words. “I thought it was Mezania’s headstone that drew me, but it’s not.”

  Briggs studied it. “It says door.”

  “It does not,” Mezania contradicted from beside him.

  “You’re better at reading Ilric than I,” Briggs said. He stepped aside to give her space even though she could have gone through him if she wanted.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mezania’s ghostly form nod.

  “That’s because you never paid attention in class,” she replied. She looked at the tomb. “The word means gateway. I can sense things trying to come through from the other side.”

  “What kind of things?” I asked.

  She looked at me. “Something worse than demons.”

  A shiver ran down my spine. “We need to close the gateway.”

  “First,” Briggs said in a level tone, “We need to open it and see if Amryn is in there.” He glanced at Alden. “Summon the others.”

  “Right away,” the Grim said. He ran from the cemetery.

  Other marks showed on either side of the word.

  “Are those fingerprints?” Mezania asked.

  I nodded. “It looks like the way in. Maybe I should put my hands there.”

  “Maybe you should wait,” Briggs suggested.

  I shook my head. “I’d feel bad if Alden brought everyone here just to realize we don’t know how to open it.”

  The professor was silent for a moment before he said, “You have a point. Try it.”

  I took a calming breath and put my hands on the tombstone. The stone was rough and cold beneath my fingertips. I don’t know what I expected to happen, but given what the first ghost had said about the ghost of my heart and locking the door, I figured I would definitely be able to open it. But nothing happened.

  I heard a sigh of frustration from Professor Briggs as if he, too, had expected at least something.

  “Shouldn’t it open?” Mezania said from Briggs’ left.

  “I thought so,” I admitted with the same frustration in my voice.

  The rest of the team arrived with an air of expectancy.

  “You think she’s down there?” Vicken asked without preamble.

  “I do,” I replied. “I can smell her.”

  Vicken rubbed his pale hands together. “Good. Let’s bring her home.”

  “We, uh, can’t,” I said.

  He stared at me. “Why not?”

  “We can’t open it,” Briggs said. Inwardly I thanked him for sparing me the humiliation.

  “Are those handprints?” Lyris asked.

  “Yes,” Mezania told her. “Try them.”

  “If Finn couldn’t open it, I don’t know how—”

  “Let them try,” Mezania said, cutting off Briggs’ argument. Her voice softened and she said, “It can’t hurt.”

  He nodded as though he would have done anything she asked of him.

  Lyris took a calming breath the way I had done and put her hands to the tombstone. When nothing happened, she shot Dara a disappointed look over her shoulder. Dara followed with the same result. At Vicken’s orders, the vampires tried, then Brack and Alden.

  “Do it again,” Vicken told me. “Aren’t you supposed to be the one or something?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not, but I’ll try it again.”

  I did and felt ridiculously disappointed even though I had known it wouldn’t work.

  “My turn,” Mercer said. He put his hands on the tombstone, covering the small handprints completely. When nothing happened, he shook his head. “Looks like we’re stuck.”

  “We’ve got to get in there,” Vicken fumed. He paced around the tombstone and studied the back as if hoping there were answers carved into the stone.

  I sat on the grass and leaned against Mezania’s headstone. She settled on top and hummed a quiet tune I didn’t recognize.

  “If it’s a gateway,” Lyris said. “Shouldn’t we be able to enter it?”

  “You would think,” Dara replied wryly. “But you’re also assuming we know what we’re doing.”

  “We know what we’re doing,” Mercer said in his rough voice. But when the empath threw him a look, he shook his head. “Actually, we hardly know what we’re doing when we think we do.”

  I ran the ghost’s words over and over in my head. The demons are restless and the fate of this school is in your hands. The ghost of your heart holds the key. Lock the door or all is lost.

  I had found the box in my mother’s belongings. She was obviously the ghost of my heart even though I had mistakenly thought the riddle referred to Sebastian. But I didn’t have a key. How could I lock the door without a key, or unlock it, for that matter?

  I thought of the ghost’s final words. He had called me Wolvenbracker, which Briggs had translated to wolf threat. A thought occurred to me. “Mezania, what does Wolvenbracker mean?”

  She gave me a thoughtful look.

  “I already told you. It means wolf threat,” Briggs said from near the tombstone.

  Mezania shook her head. “It means threat of the wolf. You’re cutting corners like you always did,” she told him with a twinkle in her eyes.

  I looked from her to the professor. “Wait. What if we got this all wrong? What if what the ghost said wasn’t for me at all?”

  “What are you talking about?” Vicken asked irritably.

  I ignored the vampire a
nd rose. “Hear me out,” I told the professor. “The ghost told me, ‘The demons are restless and the fate of this school is in your hands. The ghost of your heart holds the key. Lock the door or all is lost.’ And then he called me Wolvenbracker. But what if the message was for you, not me? I had your cloak across me in the infirmary because you let me borrow it when I was cold. You’re the threat of the wolf because you killed my uncle Conrad.” I realized by the reactions of my teammates around me that what I said wasn’t common knowledge. I rushed on to say, “The ghost of your heart holds the key. I thought it was talking about my mom, but what if it meant—”

  “Zanie,” Briggs replied with awe in his voice.

  “What?” Mezania said. “You meant I’m the one the ghost meant?”

  I nodded. “You’re the ghost of Briggs’ heart for sure. If anyone is the key to opening that tomb, I think it’s you.”

  She looked unsure. I could feel Briggs watching me as if I was crazy.

  “But I can’t touch the tombstone,” she replied.

  “It wouldn’t hurt to try,” Dara said.

  I shot the empath a grateful look.

  “Yeah,” Lyris seconded. “What Finn says makes sense in a weird way.”

  “It’s worth a try,” Vicken admitted from behind the tombstone. “Why else would you be here?”

  If his words hurt, the ghost didn’t let it show.

  “I-I guess it is,” Mezania replied. “What do you think, Trace?”

  He nodded. “I guess you could try.”

  She drifted closer to the tombstone. Briggs kept protectively close to her side. As if worried that it would hurt, Mezania held out her hands and closed her eyes. Just when I was worried that her hands would go through the stone, they stopped on the surface as if they were as solid as mine.

  Mezania’s eyes flew open and she exclaimed when the fingermarks lit up in an eerie shade of green.

  “It worked,” Alden breathed.

  The tombstone slid backwards to reveal a set of cement stairs leading beneath where the coffin should have been. Everyone stared into the dark hole.

  “Are you sure we should go in there?” Lyris asked. Worry showed in her gaze as she looked down the dark stairway.