Student Bodies (24 page)

There was a chilling silence inside the car as we sped down Blackfoot Trail. Twyla placed a reassuring hand on my knee and tried to force a smile. “I can't imagine what you must be feeling right now, Julie. But I'm on your side, so is my grandfather. Whatever happens tonight, know that you have friends with you now.”

I literally felt like I was going to throw up. I fought back a surge of bile and gave the bead a tight squeeze. “Thank you, Twyla. I don't think I'd be here today if it hadn't been for you and your grandfather.”

He grunted from the front seat. “And we'll be here tomorrow, young lady. Don't even waste a moment worrying because these old bones have seen plenty of battles over the years. When the right moment arrives, I'll unleash something this Adriel won't see coming. Something she won't have dreamed of in a thousand lifetimes.”

I needed to believe the old man. I needed to believe him like I needed air to breathe, but my boyfriend was standing on the edge of a concrete platform overlooking the Bow River weir and for all I knew, he could have already jumped into the river. My heart was beating like a jackhammer as the cold realization that Marcus might possibly already be dead started to set in. Stinging tears filled my eyes and I turned my head to look out the passenger window.

I needed to find the strength to keep it together. I had absolutely no other choice than to keep my emotions in check because in spite of my love for Marcus, in spite of how I'd never forgive myself if something happened to him, this was about something bigger than me – bigger than everyone in our car. More than a hundred lives hung in the balance and the only thing that could save them was a coven of witches, a Great Dane that was possessed by a spirit, a pair of First Nations' shamans, my mother and me.

 

We pulled into the parking lot at the Bird Sanctuary and were met by two minivans. Parked near the pathway leading up the river was Wallace Guffman's old Jeep Grand Cherokee, but he was nowhere in sight. Mom placed her car in park and shut down the engine as I hopped out of the backseat and into the cold. The sliding doors on both minivans opened near simultaneously and I recognized the shrunken form of the Blessed Maven as she climbed out.

She started waving her cane furiously and began to bark orders as eight other witches climbed from inside the two minivans.

And I didn't recognize any of them.

“Head straight through the pathway and up to the river's edge,” shouted the Blessed Maven. “Bring those bags of salt and spread it a foot in front of the waterline. It'll dissolve in the snow, but it will buy us enough time to find out how to craft a counter spell.”

Mom rushed up to the Maven with Betty galloping alongside her. “Adriel will attack us while we're trying to save those kids. She'll bring her blood coven through a portal.”

The old lady snapped at her. “Don't you think that I hadn't already considered that, adept? We'll make do with what we've got and our first order of business is to save those children. What happens to us is of no importance.”

Mom made a slight bow and then she dashed to one of the minivans. She grabbed a twenty pound bag of salt and started up the path toward the river.

“Shadowcull,” the Blessed Maven bellowed. I raced up to her and gave her a tiny bow. “You will act as the warning for when Adriel makes her presence known. A Shadowcull's heightened magical senses can pick up even the tiniest foreign magic. Get up to the river's edge and keep a sharp eye for any possible site where she might attack. If she breaks through then you must unleash hell on earth, do you understand?”

“Yes, Blessed Maven,” I said. I was about to run back to the car and grab Twyla when George Standingready hobbled up to the old woman.

“Hello, Wilma,” he said, beaming at the Maven. “It's been more then forty years since I last saw you, time has withered us both, yeah?”

She cocked an eyebrow and I could have sworn that I saw a thin smile form on her wrinkled face. “Well, hello, George Standingready. By the Spirits, won't Adriel be in for a thumping now! We've two lifetimes between us. Do you have your beads?”

He gave his fetish a small shake and ran his hand gently along the side of the old woman's face. “You're still as beautiful as the first day I ever laid eyes on you, Wilma.”

She placed her hand over his and smiled warmly. “And you're just as smooth a talker. Are you ready for this?”

He nodded and said, “I'm ready. Let's go.”

The pair plodded down the snowy path. In the distance I could hear the sound of thousands of tons of water splashing over the weir so I grabbed Twyla by the hand and raced into the line of bushes. We emerged through a thick stand of diamond willow to find in front of us the rushing water of the Bow River.

Not to mention an extended line of more than a hundred students standing a few feet away from the river's edge. Each wore a blank expression; their eyes were lifeless orbs that could barely even blink. And on the platform was Marcus, the cold wind whipping his hair. He didn't shiver, he didn't even look like he was breathing. He just stood motionlessly, his eyes fixed on the one hundred yard wide wall of swirling, churning water. All it would take would be one strong gust of wind and he'd be off the concrete platform.

But at least he was alive.

“So, what now?” asked Twyla as we hustled clear of our classmates. A thick cloud of ice crystals floated above the weir. I gazed out into the darkness to try to identify a likely spot for Adriel to make her appearance when I caught a glimpse of Betty the dog as she led Wallace Guffman away from the river and down toward the parking lot.

“We save our strength for what's about to happen,” I said grimly. I pulled my hood over my head. “Your grandfather – he talked about something that he was going to do, something that hasn't happened here for more than a hundred and fifty years. What's he on about?”

She shrugged as she fiddled with her bone bead choker. “His power is linked to the land,” she answered as she looked helplessly upstream at the weir. “So is mine. I don't know what he's got planned but if I know my grandfather, it will be the last thing anyone would expect.”

I nodded and glanced in the direction of the white witches, busily forming a salt circle around the concrete platform. One of them knelt down and touched the salt ring with one finger and a wall of magical energy shot up around Marcus. It would contain him for now, but eventually the salt would dissolve into the snow and all it would take to end his life would be a whisper of black magic.

“There's so few of them,” said Twyla as she watched the coven members busily laying out a line of salt on the river's edge. “Those witches are all middle-aged or older. Don't they have kids?”

I shrugged. “Some do, some don't. I hope there's more on the way.”

Twyla and I ducked down behind a stand of deadwood and kept our eyes fixed on the opposite side of the river. The amber lights along Deerfoot Trail glowed in the distance and we could hear the constant hum of traffic as it blasted down the freeway. I shut my eyes tight and reached out with my Sight. My Shadowcull's band hummed against my skin. Somewhere out there was Adriel. It was only a matter of time before she'd attack and I could only hope that somehow we'd survive.

Magical energy flickered in the darkness as the white witches gathered together to form a circle, my mother among them. They held hands with each other and began to chant as the Blessed Maven and George Standingready paced into the center of the ring. The old woman held out her hand as if she were testing the energy being massed together by the white witches. She then raised her crooked cane above her head and called out in a clear, commanding voice.

“Be released!”

A powerful stream of white-hot magical energy poured out from both sides of her cane. It crackled like an electrical current as she drove her cane into the snow, sending a supernatural tremor that I felt in my fillings. The Maven looked around at the students and not a single person moved. Every last one of them stood in silence, unmoved by the Maven's display of power, so the witches began to chant harder and louder this time. I felt an intense spike in their magic as the old woman once again raised her cane above her head and bellowed, “Be released!”

This time the stream of magical energy swept up from the ground beneath their feet. Each person in the line became encased in a cocoon of near-blinding white light that disappeared as quickly as it appeared. And still, not even a twitch from anyone.

The old woman dropped to one knee and pulled a spell book from her satchel. She began to flip through the pages. The rest of the witches were breathing hard, I could see their fog of their breath in the darkness.

“They're tiring out,” whispered Twyla. “This is just what Adriel wants.”

I pursed my lips tightly and once more reached out with my magical Sight. All around me the living energy from the students hummed with a percussive rhythm, overpowering the magical signatures emanating from the witches who'd been weakened by their collective effort.

Then I felt something dark appearing within the magical haze. It started off as a ripple in the supernatural energies surrounding me, like a pebble that had been dropped into a puddle. Then large rings of pure malice pushed out through the supercharged atmosphere. I gazed out using my Sight to a clearing no more than a hundred metres downstream. There was a bright flash of light and what I saw next sent me reeling.

It was another portal. Through it poured hundreds and hundreds of inky black shadows that flew through the air at breakneck speed. They tore past me, a few brushing against my skin and sending waves of nausea through my stomach.

The shadowy creatures hurled themselves at the white witches and I caught a glimpse of my mother as she threw a hex that hit a trio of the creatures in mid-air. They fell into the freezing river, shattering into tiny shards of magical malice that exploded into a fine gray dust over the water.

A throng of the creatures spun around Twyla and me, each one wearing a face that could scare death itself. Their eyes blazed furiously as I raised my protective dome of energy and four smashed into it with enough force to push me backward in the snow. Twyla stood up with her fetish in hand and hurled a spell that knocked a pair out of the air, sending them tumbling into the ground. I glanced at the portal as the last of the creatures jetted upstream toward us. I lowered my shield and hurled out a venomous curse laced with enough malice that it seemed to poison the air. Dozens of the creatures immediately burst into flame, their shrill voices shrieking in agony at the display of my power. They too crashed into the snow and then began rolling around in a desperate attempt to douse the flames, but I would have none of it. I hurled out another curse; willing my spirit to conjure a living fire that consumed the monsters, and I did it without an ounce of pity.

“Stay within the circle,” bellowed the Blessed Maven. “This is just the first attack. Adriel will continue until all our energy is spent.”

I spotted George Standingready at the base of the weir. He'd left the circle of witches and was shaking his fetish furiously as he tried desperately to break whatever hold Adriel had over the students. Ancient power spilled out of his mouth with every word he spoke. It drifted through the air, sending tiny snaps of magic into the students closest to him, but Adriel's grip was like that of a vice. My classmates just stood there motionless, each one hypnotized by the current of the river as it crashed over the weir.

And that's when things took a terrible turn. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted three students step forward over the river's edge. They were downstream of the weir, but the water was so cold they'd die of hypothermia and drown if somebody didn't go in after them. Another trio of students fell into the river and I looked on in horror as the current carried all six downstream.

Twyla was just about to dive in after them when I grabbed her by the sleeve of her torn parka. “If you go in there after them you'll drown,” I barked.

She spun around and gave me a helpless look. “Well,
somebody
has to save them.”

There was another blinding flash of light followed quickly by a concussive wave of magic that tore out of the portal. It hit us with enough power to knock us flat on our backs and I looked up to see at least five more students fall into the river.

“Adriel is going to kill every last one of us,” I snarled as I got back to my feet. “She's not even here yet and she's going to wipe out every student, but that doesn't mean we can't send something into that portal to take her down. Twyla, grab my waist and lean into me with all of your strength, because what I'm about to do is going to take every ounce of strength I've got.”

She got back to her feet and did as instructed, her deerskin fetish in hand. I shut my eyes tight and concentrated. I reached into the stew of supernatural fury as I gazed out at the foot of the weir. And that's when I spotted him, Willard Schubert.

I didn't want to kill him. I didn't want to kill anyone, but Willard's anger and pain was the fuel for Adriel's attack. She'd tapped into it as a means of infesting students and staff with Soul Worms. It was the reason for the shadow creatures that were wearing down the white witches with every furious attack and it was why eleven of my classmates were probably already drowning in the river with no one to save them. I had to kill Willard. A kid that didn't stand a chance from the day he first walked in through the front doors of Crescent Ridge High School; a boy who was the victim of a calculated campaign of bullying and humiliation. I'd never forgive myself for what I was about to do, but what choice did I have?

I was just about to lay my death curse on him when the Blessed Maven broke through the circle of white witches, her body shaking with magical power. Her cane glowed white hot in the darkness as she marched through the snow and straight into the river.