The Nightmare Dilemma (Arkwell Academy) (12 page)

Not that I minded. Mr. Deverell was young, and even though I swore I would never say such a thing about a teacher, super-hot. In his early twenties at most, he had shoulder-length dirty-blond hair and pale hazel eyes that looked like two pieces of polished river rock. He hailed from somewhere down south, but his accent was slight, just enough of a drawl to be attractive. The first moment he spoke, every girl in the class went gaga. Except for me, of course. I managed to internalize all my gaga. Well, mostly. If you didn’t count the drooling.

“What’s on this one?” Mr. Deverell asked, holding up a flashcard across from me with the picture hidden from sight.

I focused my gaze on it, while I took deep, even breaths, trying to achieve the proper concentration necessary to see the image reflected in Mr. Deverell’s mind. Yeah, I’d have better luck trying to see through mud. The harder I pushed the murkier it became. Then finally, something did appear in my mind, but I knew without a doubt it wasn’t the image on the card. It was the plinth with its hidden word. I clenched my teeth, forcing the image away.

“You can do this, Dusty,” Deverell said in response to my struggle. In his accent, my name sounded surprisingly sexy. He made it easy to understand why so many romance novels were about cowboys.

Concentrate. Concentrate. Oh, screw it
. “Apple,” I said, settling on the first random image to occur to me. I’d heard someone a few desks down say the same thing a moment ago and figured it was worth a shot.

An amused smile broke across Deverell’s face as he shook his head. “Sorry. You were close though.” He flipped the card over, revealing a purple ball.

“Yeah, sure. Similar shape anyway.”

“Yes indeed.” He motioned to the cards lying on the table between us. “Whenever you’re ready.”

I pulled off the topmost card and examined the image of an orange triangle. I slowed my breathing once more and tried to project the picture outward so Mr. Deverell could see it, but the image of the plinth forced its way to the front of my mind again. For a second, it was so powerful that I almost forgot where I was, the desire to discover the hidden word as strong as ever.

“Dusty?” Mr. Deverell said, his voice breaking through my distraction. “Are you all right?”

With an effort I looked up at him. I tried to smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Deverell stared at me, unblinking. “That image, the stone pedestal, what is it?”

I felt the color leave my cheeks. I hadn’t meant for him to see.
What’s wrong with me?
“It’s nothing,” I said, trying to make my voice as light as possible. I shrugged. “Just something I dreamed about last night.”

Mr. Deverell leaned back in his chair and scratched his chin. “It didn’t seem like nothing. It seemed like a—” He broke off and turned his gaze to the doorway. “I think Mr. Booker is about to arrive, and if I’m not mistaken, he will be able to take my place.”

Confused, and wishing he’d finished his comment, I turned my gaze to the front of the room just as Eli appeared. He was carrying a wand.
His
wand. He held it in one hand, the tip pointed to the ground as if it were a knife he feared stabbing someone with accidentally. The class fell silent, all eyes following Eli as he crossed the room toward Mr. Deverell and handed him a note. Deverell read it quickly, looking delighted.

“Congratulations,” he said, folding the note. “Let’s see it then.”

Eli held up the wand, a dazed expression on his face as if he couldn’t believe it was his. It wasn’t much to look at, hardly more than a short stick of dirt-brown wood polished smooth, but I understood his awe completely.

“Very nice,” said Deverell.

I smiled my agreement, but I couldn’t help but notice that not everyone in the class looked happy. Travis Kelly in particular wore an expression that was borderline hostile. I started to glare at him, but Mr. Deverell’s voice distracted me.

“Back to work, everyone,” he said, addressing the class. He returned his attention to Eli and gave him a quick summary of the task at hand.

Eli nodded and sat down across from me. Deverell clapped him on the back and then walked away to observe the rest of the class.

“It’s awesome,” I said, indicating the wand, which Eli had set on the table in front of him. He picked it up, set it down, and picked it up again.

“Thanks. You first.” He motioned to the cards with his wand. It seemed clumsy in his large hands.

Wincing at his curt tone, I picked up the next card and went through the focusing process again. This time when the image of the plinth rose up I was able to squash it down. Eli stared at the back of the card for several minutes, his fingers clutched tight around the wand.

He surprised me when he answered. “It’s a rectangle.”

“What color?”

“Um … yellow, I think.”

I turned the card over, showing him he was right. A half smile lifted one side of his lips. I returned it with a full one, hoping he was getting over our argument this morning. The situation with Paul would be hard enough without Eli so against it. We might’ve stepped into troubled water with the kissing last night, but we were friends first. I wanted his support.

I pushed the cards nearer him and waited as he selected the one on top. Then I focused again, trying to pull the image from his mind. To my surprise a picture formed behind my eyes of something with several pointed edges. I concentrated harder, willing the blurriness away.

“It’s a pentagram. Blue.”

“Yep.” Eli flipped the card over.

It got easier as we went along. He answered the next two correctly and in half the time. He missed the third, but it was mostly my fault. He’d interrupted my concentration when he leaned across the table and whispered, “Lady Elaine told me about you and Paul and the trouble in the senate.”

I frowned. “Why did she tell you?”

“She found out what happened this morning and was worried I would mess things up.”

Yes, that sounded like Lady Elaine. So he knew the truth, but he was still upset about it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

“It’s okay.”

Not knowing what to say next, I returned my attention to the picture of the wooden rowboat. The image was more complicated than the ones before, harder to project, especially with the plinth still lingering in the back of my mind.

Eli rolled the wand through his fingers, his focus on me and not the card. “You don’t have to do it, you know. You could say no.”

My grip on the card slipped, and it fell to the table, picture side up. “But I can’t. They need my help.”

Eli reached forward and laid his hand on mine as I went to pick up the card. “They can do it without you. We should focus on the dreams. That’ll uncover the truth far faster.” He paused. “And safer.”

The idea was tempting. It really was. Except, we both knew that reading dreams was no easy task. The answers didn’t just reveal themselves. Not unless it was too late to make a difference.

Reluctantly, I pulled away from his touch. “The dreams won’t be enough. If they were, Lady Elaine would never have asked me in the first place.”

Eli pinned me with his blue eyes. “But Paul’s put you in danger before. You should stay away from him.”

I sighed. “I can’t.” Eli started to argue further, but I cut him off. “I won’t.”

His mouth fell open then closed again with an audible clack. The bell rang a moment later, and Eli got up and walked away without another word.

11

Need Not Apply

Fortunately, there was little opportunity to continue my argument with Eli in our next class. Math was one of the few classes at Arkwell that was more or less the same as in ordinary high school. It seemed math was a universal idea. And there weren’t any algebraic functions that could calculate the magical intensity of spells or anything. It was completely boring and easily my second-worst subject.

Alchemy and science afterward was my absolute worst subject, and with Britney absent, I stood no chance of changing that. She was half the reason I’d managed to scrape a C last semester. I wondered if she was doing any better, and I resolved to go visit her at Vejovis this weekend if I could get a pass.

Finally, the beaker and Bunsen burner hell that was alchemy ended, and I made my way to gym class. At least Selene seemed more awake as we changed into our gym clothes.

“You think I’m doing the right thing, don’t you?” I asked after I finished telling her about Eli’s reaction.

Selene considered the question long enough that I knew I wouldn’t like her answer. “I don’t know, Dusty.”

I stood up from the bench and shut my locker. Then I turned to face her, trying not to sound as upset as I felt. “How can you say that? Don’t you think Paul should be stopped before he hurts more people?”

Selene ran a finger over the scar on her face. “Yes, but…”

“But what? Come on, for all we know Marrow has already risen from the ashes and is just waiting for his faithful servant to return.”

Selene snorted. “I’m sure if Marrow is alive again that he’s not waiting around for Paul Kirkwood. We know he’s got more important servants out there than a seventeen-year-old boy.”

I tapped my toe. “How do you figure?”

“Well, somebody let him out of his tomb over in England, right?”

I exhaled, some of my annoyance evaporating. “Good point.” I shrugged. “But still, it’s not like letting Paul run around unwatched is a good idea.”

“You’re right,” Selene said, her tone placating.

Even still, I heard the “but” in it again. “But…?”

Selene fixed her gaze on me. “I don’t think blindly trusting Lady Elaine and the sheriff is a good idea. They’re government officials same as the people responsible for letting Paul go.”

Her bitter tone took me by surprise. It was one she reserved for subjects she cared about deeply, like the sexual objectification of sirens and her disdain for all things Lance Rathbone. “What do you mean by that?”

Selene bit her lip and waited as a girl walked past, heading for the exit. “Just that the government isn’t always right, you know? Those people don’t always make the best choices. Some of their decisions are stupid and unfair. But come on, we’re going to be late.”

She turned toward the door. I fell in step beside her, trying to make sense of her sudden antigovernment sentiments. It wasn’t that she was a big fan of the government before, but she seemed downright hostile now. I glanced sideways at her. “Something you want to talk about?”

Selene pushed her long black braid over her shoulder. “I just think they shouldn’t be able to force you to do something you don’t want to do. And they shouldn’t be able to keep you from doing what you do want to do. Especially if it’s in your nature.”

“Huh?” I said, not understanding her vague generalities. But she didn’t get a chance to explain further as we emerged on the gym floor and were immediately beckoned forward by Coach Fritz.

“Come on, girls.” He waved his clipboard at us. “Hurry up and get out here already.”

I quickened my pace, leery of pissing off Fritz. He still hadn’t gotten over me hitting him with a stumbler curse last semester, never mind the hours of toilet-cleaning detention I’d endured as punishment for it. If I gave him so much as half a reason, I’d end up doing push-ups for the entire class period. Fritz was a fairy with typical fairy vindictiveness. He’d tried making me run laps the first couple of times, but running was one of my hobbies so it wasn’t very effective. Push-ups, however, left me feeling like I’d been dragged around by the arms for an hour by a herd of elephants.

Selene and I sat down with the rest of our classmates, congregated around the coach. Behind him, a giant tentlike structure was stretched across the length of the gym floor. It looked a bit like one of those tunnels people trained dogs to run through in agility competitions. No prizes for guessing who the dogs would be in
this
scenario. I took one look at the pitch-black, yawning entrance into the thing and shuddered.

“Your goal,” Fritz was explaining, “is to make it through the Gauntlet.”

That’s all?
I wondered what would happen if we
didn’t
make it through.

Fritz slid the clipboard under his arms and put his fisted hands on his waist. “Now before you start complaining, I promise you won’t face anything in there that you’re not equipped to deal with, and there’s nothing that will do you
serious
harm. Just keep a sharp lookout and react with what comes natural.” Fritz’s eyes shifted to my face. “Most of you shouldn’t have any trouble at all.”

I swallowed and dropped my gaze, pretending to be completely absorbed by the fine cracks in the polished wood floor.

“And you might as well get used to it,” Fritz went on. “The Gauntlet will be a new regular feature in this class. Nothing will be timed or scored for now, but that will change as the semester goes on.”

I groaned inwardly, resisting the urge to roll my eyes, a surefire method of provoking Fritz’s anger.

He blew the whistle. “All right. Get into your safety suits and line up.”

Everybody responded to this command with varying degrees of enthusiasm. I took my time, crossing to the wall where the safety suits hung from pegs. I selected one in my size and pulled it on. It resembled a wet suit, but the material was surprisingly supple and easy to get on, even with the hard, plasticlike shielding on the arms, chest, back, and thigh areas. All too soon I was ready to go.

Lance and Eli were close to the front of the line, the latter wearing a suit for the first time ever with his new wand clutched in his hand. He looked even better than I’d imagined in the snug-fitting getup.

As Eli approached the entrance, Coach Fritz shook his head. “Not this time, Booker.” He eyed the wand with a blatant smirk. “I doubt you’ve got enough juice in that thing to handle the Gauntlet. You can wait out class over there.” He pointed to the benches.

Eli’s body went rigid. Outrage coursed through me. It wasn’t fair. Fritz had no right to deny him the chance to participate. I braced for Eli’s response, expecting him to argue, but he only turned around and replaced his suit on the wall. Then he stalked off toward the benches. But instead of sitting, he raised the wand and started practicing some of the defensive moves we regularly studied in class. Well, at least he would get to do something. Maybe with enough time Fritz would change his mind.