The Haunted High Series Book 2- The Ghost Files Page 14

  My hands balled into fists. I loosened them again immediately at the pain from both of them. I found myself studying the black rag made from Vicken’s shirt that was still wrapped where Sparrow should have been. I swallowed against the knot that rose in my throat.

  “Mr. Briscoe, do you have an answer?” Professor Briggs pressed.

  “Throw me off the roof and I’ll figure it out,” I replied.

  The professor took a limping step forward. “And why is that?” he pressed.

  “Because if I was a cat, I would have the instincts not to die,” I said.

  Silence filled the room. It was broken by the professor’s clapping. Confused, I looked up to see him smiling at me. The effect of the candlelight along the scar that marred his cheek was chilling, but his smile softened his appearance.

  “Well done, Mr. Briscoe. You gave the right answer.”

  I stared at him. “You mean you’re not going to ask me anymore?”

  Laughter sounded from several of the students.

  “I’m not going to ask anymore,” the professor said. “Instinct is the right answer.”

  I set my forehead on the table with a loud thump. “I thought it was more complicated than that,” I said, my voice muffled.

  Professor Briggs gave a quiet chuckle before he replied, “Sometimes all we have to rely on is instinct. For those of us who learn to listen, it’s there if we need it, which leads us to our topic today. How do birds fly so close together without running into each other?”

  “Instinct,” I mumbled.

  Laughter rose again from the students around me.

  “Yes,” Professor Briggs said, “But it goes even deeper than that. Animals have a connection we call….”

  “He’s asleep.”

  “I’ll take care of him. You three head on to dinner.”

  “He needs more sleep.”

  “I’ll make sure he gets up to his bed.”

  The sound of footsteps heading toward the door stole through the last vestiges of my dreamless sleep. I lifted my head, then put a hand to it as a throb of pain made me wish I was asleep again.

  “Good morning, or night, I should say,” Professor Briggs told me wryly.

  I didn’t have to open my eyes to recognize the scent of candles. “I’m making a bad habit of sleeping through your class.”

  “You are,” he replied with a hint of humor. “But Vicken told me I should make an exception.”

  I opened my eyes at that. “He was here?”

  Professor Briggs nodded. “Yes, though he looked a bit worse for the wear.” He was silent a moment, then said, “The two of you saved our lives.”

  “The cougars were possessed, like the bear.”

  Surprise showed on the professor’s face. “There was a bear?”

  A wry smile touched my lips. “I guess Vicken didn’t tell you everything.”

  “Vampires tend to be a bit closed off,” Briggs replied. “Why don’t you enlighten me?”

  I told him about us running into the demonic bear, casually leaving out the part about our little fight beforehand. When I told of us finally getting it to fall off the cliff, the professor leaned forward from his perch on the edge of a desk.

  “Well done,” he said. “Sounds like you handled it well.”

  “That’s when we heard Lyris scream,” I continued. He knew about how we got the possessed creatures to follow us, but Vicken had apparently also left out our need to jump in the river, him saving my life, and then me in turn letting him drink my blood.

  Professor Briggs was silent for a few minutes. His gaze lingered on the black cloth around my wrist. “You let a vampire drink your blood. No wonder you’ve been sleeping in here like you’re dead. You’re lucky you’re not a ghost following Alden around.”

  I gave a small chuckle. “Vicken said the same thing when he came to and realized what I had done, or he had done.” I rubbed my forehead. “Everything’s a bit jumbled right now.”

  “What you need to do is go to bed for a few days.” When I opened my mouth to protest, Professor Briggs cut me off by saying, “I’ll write an excuse and have Alden get all of your homework. I’ll have Lyris bring up some dinner so you get something in your stomach. You need sleep, plenty of food, more water than you think you can handle, and more sleep. Doctor’s orders.”

  I gave a tired laugh. “I didn’t know you were a doctor.”

  “I’d be teaching at an Ivy League school if I wasn’t here,” Briggs replied with a straight face. “It’s too bad they don’t consider Black Cat Philosophies or the History of Witches and Warlocks as thesis material.”

  “Maybe someday the world will be more open to this kind of stuff,” I replied.

  A hint of wistfulness appeared and then left his face so quickly I wondered if I had imagined it.

  He rose and said, “Let’s get you to bed.”

  I lost track of how much time I spent laying on top of my blankets willing sleep to come. My eyes kept straying to the bandage Lyris had wrapped around my wrist in the place of Vicken’s rag. Thoughts of Sparrow’s death circled around my mind like a caged bird. I was grateful for the distraction when Alden came in carrying a bowl of soup and several rolls.

  “Can’t sleep?” he asked when he handed me the bowl.

  I shook my head.

  He must have seen something in my expression because he said, “I talk to my mom when I’m feeling bad.” The Grim suddenly looked up and his cheeks paled. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I forgot that your mom died.” He looked at the ground, the foot of my bed, and the ceiling, anywhere but at me, before he continued with, “I don’t know what I would do without my mom. She’s always been there for me when I need someone to talk to. I just don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have her.”

  He walked to the door, then paused and looked back at me. “I’m going to practice chants with Lyris and Brack. Get some sleep.”

  I stared at the bowl of soup long enough to know exactly how many pieces of chicken, celery, and carrots floated in it. Thanks to Alden’s words, the thoughts of my mom came so strongly I could barely breathe. I could see her ghost when she smiled back at me in the upstairs hallway. Because she had passed away when I was so young, her ghost was the closest thing to being around her that I remembered besides snippets of memory and the videos my dad kept.

  With the loss of Sparrow, my near-death in the river, and the stress of trying to find the key to her box so that we could figure out what it would take to defeat Chutka the Shambler, my need to see my mother again became so strong I couldn’t sit there and do nothing.

  I set the uneaten bowl of soup on the floor, slipped on my shoes someone had thoughtfully brought back from the cemetery, and crept to the door. Luckily, my feet were pretty much healed from the moonlight that fell on my bed through the window, and the soles didn’t hurt nearly as bad as they had when we first reached the Academy. I peered out, but the halls were mostly empty. Those students who did walk around didn’t seem at all concerned about one bedraggled werewolf.

  I ran up the stairs until I reached the thirteenth floor. Disappointment filled me when my mother’s ghost wasn’t in the hallway. I don’t know why I had been so certain that she would be there, but the lack of her ghost made me angry in a way I couldn’t explain.

  I climbed through the window, ran to the end of the roof, and hurried up the invisible staircase. By the time I slid down the slide to the clubhouse, I told myself that she had to be there waiting, she had to know how much I needed her.

  The sight of the empty room drove me to my knees. I bent with my hands over my head and tried to hold myself together. I could feel myself slipping over the edge into a dark place I didn’t want to visit. I was afraid of the bottomless pit I saw and the thought of what would happen if I truly lost control.

  There was another place filled with ghosts. My head lifted at the thought. I slid back up the slide, ran down the staircase, took the Academy’s stairs five at a time, and narrowly avoi
ded bowling students over as I made my way to the hallway of doors. Exotic scents filled my nose from doorways I had never visited. I wondered why the Academy used the one door but kept the others locked. The reminder that the forest one was also supposed to be closed whispered in my mind. I ran forward in fear that it would be locked like all the others. To my relief, it stood open a crack. I stepped through with the thought that I should tell Brack to work his spell on it again when I returned.

  “Finn, what are you doing here?” Mezania asked when I reached the cemetery.

  “Oh, uh, just checking on something,” I replied.

  I had forgotten that I would need her help to open the tomb. The sight of Sparrow’s little ghost sleeping around her wrist nearly made me turn around and head back to the Academy without asking. But I steeled my nerves and said, “Mercer wanted me to see if the demons have calmed down. He’s worried about the threat they pose to Haunted High. Can you open it for me?”

  I had never been a good liar. Fortunately, I must have been somewhat passable because Mezania nodded. “Of course. Anything for you.” She paused, then said, “You brought Trace back to me. The time we have together is so precious. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you for that.”

  The heartache in her voice told of how hard it was for the ghost and the warlock to be apart. I lowered my gaze. “I’m sorry you have to go through this.”

  Mezania gave a brave little sniff and crossed to the tombstone that made up the entrance to the Otherworld. “I’m just glad I can help in some way.”

  The tomb slid aside at her touch.

  “Be careful down there,” she told me. “I’ll keep it open in case you need to come back in a hurry.”

  “Thank you,” I replied.

  Despite my ability to see in the dark, I found myself missing the flashlights and sounds of footsteps behind me. I hurried down the steps until I felt like I was going back up, and then I reached the ceiling of the Academy’s corridor. I crossed quickly through the halls with the hopes of remaining unnoticed. Fortunately, I didn’t see the Demon Knight on my way up the stairs. The ghosts and demons below that wandered with the occasional student didn’t seem to detect my presence. It was disorienting to run up the sloped ceiling, but I found myself on the thirteenth floor in less time than I thought it would take.

  I stopped at the sight of the ghost who stood at the end looking out the window.

  “Mom?” I asked.

  The ghost turned and smiled my mother’s smile. Relief filled me at the sight of her golden hair and the way her eyes, so like mine, echoed her smile when she looked up at me. I walked slowly along the roof toward her. It felt strange to be eye-to-eye, yet for me to feel as if she was upside down when I was the one who walked on the ceiling.

  I stopped a few steps away. “I-I’ve missed you,” I told her.

  Her voice was warm when she replied, “I’ve missed you, too. You should stay awhile.”

  The thought that she wanted me there filled me with happiness. Any doubt I had at coming there vanished.

  “Are you alright?” I asked. “Are you happy?”

  She nodded and the ghostly glow that surrounded her brightened. “I am happy, but I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too,” another voice whispered.

  I looked around, but couldn’t see anyone.

  “It’s been hard at the Academy,” I told her. “Everyone’s afraid of werewolves, I lost Sparrow to the Demon Knight,” I held out my hand to show her the dragon’s absence that ate at me. “And everything seems to be against me figuring out how to stop more demons from reaching the school.”

  A whisper in my own voice said, “Reaching the school.”

  I put it off as an echo in the strange world and said, “Thanks for telling me about the clubhouse. We found what we were looking for.”

  “You did?” she replied, her eyes bright. “What did you find?”

  “What did you find?” a voice repeated.

  I looked around, but even though I had the distinct sensation that we were being watched, I couldn’t see anyone.

  I shrugged uneasily and said, “You know. The mark under the table.”

  My mom nodded. “Yes, the mark.” She paused, then said, “Which one was it?”

  Uneasiness filled me. I watched her carefully when I replied, “The mark of Chutka the Shambler. The one that you put there.”

  “Yes, that one,” she said. She smiled warmly. “You’re so smart. I knew you could find it.”

  I toyed with the bandaged on my wrist when I told her, “It led me to the box, but I don’t have the key. Do you know where I can find it?”

  She smiled again. “Keys are important, but they are also dangerous. You should probably just leave it alone.”

  “Leave it alone,” came the whisper.

  I spun in a circle. “Who said that?” I demanded.

  No one stood behind me even though when the voice spoke, the hair had stood up on the back of my neck at the hot breath that washed across my skin.

  I glanced back at my mother’s ghost. “What’s going on here?”

  She shook her head and her hair swayed softly in a current I couldn’t see. “I don’t know, but I want you to be safe. You should forget about the key and stay here with me.”

  The thought of staying with my mom was a comforting one. My weary mind welcomed the chance to rest under the watchful gaze of someone who cared about me.

  Mom reached out a hand. “Stay with me, Finn. You’ll be happier here.”

  I stretched out my hand toward her and then paused. Something was wrong. Briggs’ conversation with Mezania lingered in my mind. He wanted to stay with her, but Mezania loved him too much to let him throw his life away early. My mother would want me to live my life, not give up and stay in some half-world with her. I pulled my hand back.

  “What’s wrong, Finn?” she asked. “Don’t you want to stay with me?”

  I saw it then, the flicker in her eyes that wasn’t part of the green irises we shared. I took a step back. Something the Grims had told Headmistress Wrengold before they left surfaced in my mind. The ghosts weren’t able to talk to us or respond because they were reliving memories of their past. That was why my mother had told me the rhyme to get to the clubhouse. She wasn’t talking to me, she was reliving a moment in her life when she had repeated the rhyme over and over in order to remember it.

  The ghost before me wasn’t my mother. She was a demon sent by Chutka the Shambler, who was pleased I knew his name. A chill ran down my spine at the truth of the thought. I took another step backwards.

  “Don’t go, Finn. We have so much to talk about,” not-Mom’s ghost said.

  “I’m done talking,” I replied.

  I spun and ran for the hallway with the fear that the imposter ghost would follow me and find a way to keep me in the Otherworld forever.

  I turned a corner and ran into something so hard I fell back several steps.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Vicken?” I said in surprise.

  “Finn!” he exclaimed with equal shock on his face. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was talking to a ghost I thought was my mom, but turned out not to be, and now I think she’s going to try to keep me here.”

  “Naturally,” Vicken replied. “It might be because we’re here talking on the ceiling of a shadow version of Haunted High, but that actually makes sense. Come on.”

  We took off running down the ceiling of the stairs.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked. I knew the answer before the question left my mouth, so I finished with, “Did you find your sister?”

  “No,” he replied as we ran through the corridor. “I thought I’d search everywhere I had seen her, but there are too many demons.”

  “And they’ve seen you?” I asked in shock.

  “What do you think?” Vicken replied.

  We both slowed to a stop. My heart beat louder at the sight of dozens of demons waiting for us in fr
ont of the stairway. I glanced back and saw not-Mom’s ghost walk down the last step.

  “Come on, Finn,” she called. “Stay here with me.”

  Vicken looked back at me. “That’s just creepy.”

  “Tell me about it,” I replied. “Come on. We’ve got to find somewhere to hide.”

  We took off up the stairs again.

  “What places have you checked for Amryn?” I asked him as we ran.

  “I started with the thirteenth floor because of the entrance to the secret passage, and then I was going to check—”

  “Her room,” I finished. We stared at each other wide-eyed. It was the last place I had smelled her scent. I took off up the stairway to the fifth floor. We ran down the hallway and skidded to a stop in front of room E twenty-five. Her scent was strong.

  “I think she’s in there,” I whispered to Vicken.

  Fear showed in his gaze. “What if she’s not?”

  “Then we’ll keep searching until we find her,” I replied firmly. I leaned down and grabbed the doorknob. With a silent plea, I pushed the door open.

  “Vicken!”

  Amryn’s voice and the answering look on her brother’s face gripped my heart in a fist.

  Vicken ran inside. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he said with tears in his eyes as he gathered his sister up in his arms. “I would never give up. You know I wouldn’t.”

  “I know, I know,” she sobbed against his chest. Her long dark hair hid her face from view as she clung to him. “I just knew you would find me.”

  He held her back at arm’s length. “Are you alright?”

  She nodded. “Just scared, really, really scared.” Tears fell down her cheeks. “I want to go home.”

  Footsteps sounded below.

  “We’ve got to go,” I told them.

  Vicken took Amryn’s hand. “I’ll never let go, alright?”