The Nightmare Dilemma (Arkwell Academy) (32 page)

His voice sounded strange, full of contradictory emotions, both sadness and relief, love and hate.

“Do you regret it?” I asked, surprising myself by the question.

Paul looked up, his eyes bright. He held me with his gaze. “Yes. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t wish I could take it back. Especially Rosemary. I dream about her all the time … nightmares that you can’t even imagine.” He shuddered, at last dropping his gaze. He tossed another stone.

I didn’t say anything, still torn between belief and doubt. But then Paul dropped the last pebble into the pool and crossed the small distance between us. He placed his hands on my arms, his touch so light he might’ve been made of air instead of flesh.

“And I regret what I did to you. More than anything,” he spoke in a whisper, and his voice
moved
through me as if my skin were permeable. “I’m sorry, Dusty. And I’ll do whatever you want to make things right. So go to Brackenberry. Tell him everything you think you should.”

I held my breath, feeling something inside me shift, my internal gauge for him moving from doubt to belief. Then I exhaled as the change brought a sweet relief like setting down a heavy burden I hadn’t even realized I’d been carrying.

Acting on impulse, I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and held it out to him.

Paul looked at it as if he’d never seen one before. “What are you doing?”

“Take it. Do whatever you need to do.”

Paul’s fingers slid around mine, as if he intended to take my hand along with the phone.

“You keep it.” Paul pushed my hand into my chest. “Give it to the sheriff. To get to the app press the home button three times and then swipe to the left twice. The pass code is three-eight-seven-eight-nine-seven. It’ll open the app and all the files, too.”

My mouth fell open, even as my mind repeated the numbers, committing them to memory. “You’re giving it to me? But why?”

In answer, Paul leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “You already know.” He let go of me then and started walking toward the mouth of the tunnel. But he paused and turned around. “Say, you, um, wouldn’t ever consider maybe giving it a go with me again, would you? That is, assuming I’m still alive come Sunday.”

It was such the wrong question at the wrong time, and I found myself wanting to cry and laugh at once. “Just promise that you’ll stay alive no matter what and we’ll talk about it.”

“Deal,” he said. And then he disappeared into the darkness.

29

The Circle of Twelve

“Where have you been?”

I paused in the doorway of Eli’s dorm, wary of his tone and the fierce look in his eye. “I told you, I was tired after my meeting with Deverell and wanted to take a nap.” At least, this was the story I sent him when he’d texted me during dinner, wanting to know why I wasn’t in the cafeteria. In truth, I’d just needed to be alone for a while, sorting through my thoughts and feelings. Not that I’d managed to resolve anything.

Eli put his hands on his hips, his expression doubtful. “So you
weren’t
down in the tunnels with Paul? All alone?”

I frowned. “Were you spying on me?” He of all people would know how to do it without me noticing.

“No, of course not.” He scowled. “Selene told me you’d been to see him.”

My face flushed. I brushed past him, heading for the sofa. I plopped down onto it and folded my arms. “It was nothing. I just needed to talk to him. I thought he deserved a heads-up about us going to the sheriff. And you’ve got nothing to worry about. I can take care of myself.”

Eli held his breath, his eyes hard. Then he exhaled, the anger seeping out of him. “I suppose you’re right.”

I frowned, unsure if he was agreeing with me telling Paul or that I could take care of myself.

“I mean,” Eli went on before I could ask him, “I don’t know why I worry about you so much. You can kick
my
ass, let alone Paul’s.”

I gaped. Had he really just said that? “You’re kidding, right?”

“Why would I be kidding?” Eli came over and sat down on the sofa beside me.

I glanced sideways at him. “Um, because you’re a guy and really big and stuff.”

He rolled his eyes in my direction. “That hardly matters when magic’s a factor.” Eli slid the ring from his finger and twisted it to the right, expelling the glamour to reveal his wand. “When it is, I might as well be a ninety-pound weakling.”

I cleared my throat. “Still having trouble with it?”

“Oh, you could say that.” Eli tossed the wand onto a nearby table. It skidded, clacking loudly, and stopped just shy of falling over the side.

I swallowed, sympathy making my throat tight. How awful for him. Not only was he getting harassed by witchkinds, but he could hardly use the magic they had tried to keep from him in the first place. I patted his leg. “Just give it some time. I struggled for a long while, too … heh … what am I saying? I still struggle.”

Eli snorted. “Sure, more time.” He popped his neck. “So what happened with Deverell?”

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Yeah, that. Still not unblocked.”

“Really?”

“Yes. But I’m close, only one letter to go.” I opened my eyes in time to see Eli’s disappointed expression. Never mind that he banished it with a smile a second later.

“I guess we both need some more time.”

“Sure, which we don’t have. At least, which I don’t have. I don’t suppose you found something helpful in
The
Atlantean Chronicle
.” I turned my gaze to the desk and saw the book lying opened on top of it.

“No,” Eli said. “If there’re any details on an assassination in there, it must be a single sentence only. More likely, the Atlantis in that e-mail was code for something else.”

I exhaled. “You’re probably right.” I stood up and faced him. “We might as well get a move on then. Who knows? Maybe we’ll find something in the dream this time.”

Eli smiled as he shifted sideways, lying down on the sofa. “I’m sure we will.”

I waited for him to fall asleep, refusing to get my hopes up. A few minutes later, I climbed on top of him and entered his dream. To my relief, the world I found myself in a moment later was free of the fog that had plagued his last few dreams.

We were in Senate Hall once more, all the details of the place, defined and visible—the stained glass windows and the magickind statues, the row of knights and the long wooden table. Eli stood at the head of the table, examining the chair where in that earlier dream his father had been sitting. All the chairs were empty at present.

I glanced around looking for some sign of what was coming, but nothing stood out to me. The place had an empty, abandoned look, stark and forlorn like a wintry landscape. Directly opposite the foot of the table, but a good fifty feet in the distance, stood the massive doors of the main entrance.

“I want to go outside,” I said, turning to Eli. “You up for it? I don’t think we’re going to find much more in here.”

Eli looked up. “Yeah, I think you’re right.” He walked over to me and together we headed for the door. Two lions were carved into the highly polished wood in the same pose as the ones guarding the main gates into Lyonshold that Mr. Corvus had showed us in class that day.

“I really hope your memory of this place is good,” I said as Eli pushed the door open. “Because it might be my only chance to see it since we’ve been banned from the festival.”

Eli laughed. “So much pressure. But I’m sure you’ll have reason to visit sooner or later.”

“Maybe. But I’d rather see it now.” I winked.

We stepped out into a vast entry hall full of more statues and suits of armor. So far so good on the details, it seemed. Then we headed for the main doors across the way, leading outside. Eli pushed them open, and a bright stream of warm sunshine spilled through. I blinked, letting my eyes adjust, then followed Eli outside onto a grand, stone pavilion, like the kind I’d only seen in movies based on books by Jane Austen. I half-expected a horse and buggy to pull up.

“Wow,” I said, surveying the endless stretch of green lawn beyond the pavilion, marked here and there by giant, ancient trees and rows of flower beds formed into neat little gardens. Far in the distance, I could just make out the sea separating this innermost island from the other two. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Yeah it is.” Eli raised a hand to his brow, shielding his eyes from the sun. “And just how I remembered it.”

I sighed, truly disappointed about not getting to see this in real life. But maybe I could convince my mom to take me to visit the capital city sometime this summer. That is, assuming nothing bad happened tomorrow. I had a feeling if Consul Vanholt was assassinated, Lyonshold wouldn’t be open for visitors again anytime soon. And if Magistrate Kirkwood became the new consul, I doubted it would be very much fun to visit anymore in the first place.

“What’s that?” Eli pointed, and I followed the direction of his finger until I spotted an odd structure in the distance.

“No idea,” I said, even as Eli marched across the pavilion and down the steps straight toward it. I followed after him, trying to look in every direction at once. There were so many things to look at. But as we drew closer to the structure in the distance, it captured my attention completely.

It was a pile of wood, easily as tall as I was, and carefully arranged like an elaborate funeral pyre. The pieces of wood were so varied in color, I had a feeling that several different types of trees had contributed to it. There was even a definite pattern to the colors.

“This must be for one of the Beltane bonfires,” Eli said.

I glanced at him. “How can you be sure?”

“Don’t you remember what Mr. Corvus said? He told us the bonfires have to be built this precisely because they’re supposed to purify all magic when lit during Beltane.”

“Oh, right.” I vaguely remembered Corvus explaining something along those lines to us. “Well, at least you’re dreaming about the festival. That’s a good sign. We should keep looking.”

“Okay. Let’s do a sweep of the area around the hall.”

I stifled a smile at his choice of words—always playing the cop.

Making a wide pass, we circled around Senate Hall, which was far larger than I realized. It stood at least seven stories high, judging by the windows, and I guessed it was about as wide as a football field and maybe twice as long. On top of it stood a single watchtower, not terribly tall, but still high enough I couldn’t make out the top of it.

Eventually we came to another pyre, shaped exactly the same as the first. We moved on and found a third and then a fourth. By the time we came round to the front of Senate Hall again, we had counted twelve of them.

I sat down on the stone steps of the pavilion when we reached it, feeling the weight of defeat pulling me downward. We’d found nothing amiss. This must be a regular dream after all. The reason it was set at Senate Hall with all the pyres must be because Eli’s unconscious mind was still fixated on the Terra Tribe, not realizing that mystery was already solved.

“Are you all right?” Eli frowned down at me.

“Yeah. Just disappointed.” I made a sweeping gesture. “There’s nothing here. I don’t get it.”

Eli clacked his teeth, the sound drawing my attention. “Maybe Paul was wrong.” He hesitated. “I’m not saying he’s been lying, but he could’ve made a mistake about the e-mail he saw. He’s far from perfect.”

I exhaled. “You’re right.” I certainly hoped that was the case, as opposed to it being a lie. I thought about my cell phone lying in my back pocket in the waking world. I hadn’t tried to find the hidden data or enter the pass code he’d given me yet. Somehow, trying it seemed like admitting defeat, and I wasn’t ready to do that. But now I wondered what would happen if I did try to find it.

Eli kicked a pebble with his shoe, his hands shoved into his pockets. The sun, so bright when we first arrived, was starting to slip behind the horizon. I leaned back on the steps. At least the dream had been calm and peaceful for once. That was a change.

Something in the distance caught my eye, a momentary flash. I sat up. “What was that?”

Eli turned and scanned the lawn behind us. “What?”

“I thought I saw a light. There it is again.” I stood, keeping my eyes fixed on the place where it had seemed to emanate—somewhere near the first pyre we’d examined. I started walking slowly toward it, Eli falling into step beside me. But by the time we came within reach of the pyre, I hadn’t seen it again.

I stopped. “Never mind, I guess I imagined it.”

Eli didn’t respond as he stared at the pyre, his eyes glazed over as he did that inward thinking thing of his. He came out of it a second later, and he walked up the pyre, seizing hold of one of the pieces of wood. “I have an idea.” He yanked the wood from the top and tossed it over his shoulder, grabbing another one at once.

“What are you doing?” I asked, stepping sideways to avoid one of the flying pieces.

“I have a hunch. Help me tear this thing apart.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, not that he could see it with his back to me. Then I shrugged and started helping. Several moments later, we’d dismantled the whole thing. At the very center, sticking out of the earth like a broken cemetery cross, stood a wooden rod. It was roughly the length of a baseball bat although not as thick in circumference. At first, I thought it must’ve been used to support the pyre, only it was too small to do that effectively.

“I can’t believe it,” Eli whispered, his eyes fixed on the rod.

“Believe what?”

He didn’t reply as he stepped forward, seized the rod with one hand, and yanked it out. He ran his gaze over its surface. I moved closer, examining it myself. Intricate symbols and markings covered its entire surface. So it wasn’t an ordinary stick at all, but a magical instrument.

“What is it?” I said, wishing this wasn’t a dream so that I could give Eli a poke to get his attention. He was completely absorbed in studying it. “Eli,” I said when he still didn’t respond.

He finally looked up. “It’s a Telluric Rod.”

“Say again?”

“A Telluric Rod, also known as an Atlantean Rod.”