The Nightmare Dilemma (Arkwell Academy) (22 page)

“It’s—” Britney’s voice cut off. For a second nothing happened. She just stared at us, frozen in place.

But then the mermaid began to shriek.

19

The Target

It wasn’t a normal scream, but the fierce, terrible sound of a mermaid in pain, the kind of thing that was dangerous to hear without the high density of water to attenuate the frequency. The handheld mirror sitting on the end table beside the bed cracked. I covered my ears and hunched over, that noise like a hatchet to my skull. On the foot of the bed, Selene was doing the same, both of us paralyzed by the screams.

I forced my eyes on Britney, trying to make sense of her terror. She’d fallen back against the headboard and was thrashing around like a horror movie demon. Struggling against some unseen force, she raised both hands to her neck and started pulling at the collar of the robe against her throat.

A second later I realized what was wrong—the robe was getting smaller. Already I could see where the fabric pressed into her skin, making it bulge around the seam. Britney’s shrieks lessened as the pressure increased around her chest, cutting off her air supply.

The pain in my head eased, and I jumped forward, able to move again. Selene ripped the bedclothes off. The robe was shrinking everywhere, cutting into Britney’s wrists and ankles. It no longer looked like a gown but like a bodysuit, the fabric pressed against every inch of her body, crushing the life out of her.

I tried to grab the edge of the fabric and pull it off, but it was like trying to slide my fingers beneath two pieces of metal welded together. I searched my mind for some spell to use, but I’d never learned anything to combat this.

“Mom!” I screamed over my shoulder. Where was she? Neither she nor the deputy was visible in the doorway. I searched the room for some way to call for help, but there wasn’t a phone or any other recognizable device in the room. Abandoning the attempt to pull off the robe, I spun around and dashed to the door. There had to be someone nearby.

The hallway was empty. I raced down to the nurses’ station in the distance, but it was deserted. I searched behind the desk for a way to page a nurse, but again there wasn’t any recognizable device. My mom hadn’t been kidding when she said this place was run completely on magic.
Mom,
I thought, trying to focus my mind the way we did in psionics,
where are you? I need you.

My chest bursting with panic and frustration, I raced back to Britney’s room.

Selene was singing at the top of her lungs, trying some kind of siren magic to free Britney from the robe, but it only seemed to be slowing down the pace of the robe’s shrinking. Britney’s face had gone a sickening shade of blue-gray, her lips like slate.

I pointed at her. “Alexo.” The magic left my fingertips, but when the shield spell hit Britney it dissipated uselessly.

“Aphairein,” I said, but the correction spell bounced off.

Britney’s thrashing started to slow, and for a moment I thought Selene’s magic might finally be reversing the curse. But the dread pounding through my body told me otherwise. I’d witnessed death once before, that slow giving in to the inevitable.

Mom,
I cried again, putting all the force of my mind behind it.

A dead silence descended into the room as Selene stopped singing. Britney lay motionless on the bed, her body bound as tight as an Egyptian mummy.

I closed my eyes, too horrified to scream or cry.

Click-click-click.

The familiar sound of high-heeled shoes striking stone broke the hold of my despair, filling me with hope.

I turned to see my mom striding into the room. Her expression was dead calm, her eyes focused on Britney. She raised her hand toward the mermaid and spoke an incantation. I didn’t recognize it, but at once magic filled the air around us like a powerful wind. My skin tingled from the force of it.

There was a loud crack followed by a ripping sound. I looked down to see the robe falling off Britney. Her naked body beneath was a ruin of bruises and swollen flesh. I turned away, shielding my eyes from the gruesome sight.

I felt my mom’s arms slide around me. She began to pull me toward the door. “Come on now,” she said. “She’s going to be fine. I promise.”

I didn’t believe her. Couldn’t. Damage like that must surely be fatal.

*   *   *

We spent the rest next few hours inside a private lounge in the hospital waiting for news.

Across from me, Selene sat in the corner, her head in her hands, crying silently. My mom and I both tried to console her, but she wouldn’t listen.

“It’s my fault,” she said, her voice raw. “I shouldn’t have pushed her the way I did.”

I exhaled, desperate to hug her, but I knew she wouldn’t want me to. Not yet. Selene prided herself on always being tough and strong. But right now she was broken.

“You couldn’t have known what would happen,” I said.

But
I
had known. Paul had warned me.

I’d managed not to cry so far, but guilt pressed in on me every second, making it hard to breathe. I should’ve listened to Paul. We should’ve left. Britney might still be okay then.

How did he know?

I closed my eyes, aware I could drive myself crazy wondering about it. But I swore I would find out soon.

As we waited, my mom explained her disappearance. “There was a fight in the opposite wing, as far from Britney’s room as it was possible to be, it seems,” Moira said. “It was between a Mors demon and a Werra fairy who somehow managed to escape the psych ward. You can imagine the havoc it might’ve caused.” She made a face.

So did I. A magickind psych ward? A Werra fairy gone insane? What a horrible thought.

“I went to help as well, not knowing the danger I’d left you girls in.” My mom looked first at Selene and then at me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how serious this situation was. I’ve been away and out of touch for too long, it seems.”

“What made you come back to the room?” Selene said, gratitude in her voice.

Mom smiled. “I heard Dusty calling.”

I returned my mom’s smile, glad it had worked. Mr. Deverell had told us in class that it was possible to communicate telepathically over long distances so long as the two people shared a strong bond. It was nice to know that included me and my mom. I would never forget the way she had charged in and saved Britney. We didn’t always get along, but right now, in this moment, there was nothing I wanted more than to be like her.

Finally, one of the doctors came in and confirmed what my mom had said from the beginning—Britney had survived. She was hurt badly, but they were sure she would recover in time.

Selene finally stopped crying, and the hopeless knot in my stomach began to unwind.

Sheriff Brackenberry and Lady Elaine arrived not long after that. I told them everything, including the stuff about Lance being cursed. He was officially off the suspect list, and it was about time someone stepped in to help him.

The moment I finished, Selene said, “That was
Paul
texting you?”

I squirmed beneath her accusing stare. “Yeah.”

Her nostrils flared. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t believe him.”

“But—”

“Let me see the phone,” Lady Elaine said, cutting off whatever accusation Selene had planned to say. I handed the phone to Lady Elaine. She examined the texts—navigating the cell’s functions far better than I would’ve expected—and then gave it over to Sheriff Brackenberry, who did the same.

“I’m going to need to keep this as evidence.” Brackenberry set the phone down on the end table beside his chair. “I’ll have one of my men pick Paul up as soon as we’re done here.”

I frowned, unhappy at losing both my phone and the chance to be the first to talk to Paul.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” my mom said, crossing one leg over the other.

Brackenberry cocked his head to the side, eyeing her suspiciously. The animosity between the two of them was well known. “Of course, I’m sure. Clearly, Paul is connected to the attack somehow. This is just the break we’ve been hoping for to put that young man where he belongs. In jail.”

I flinched at the animosity in Brackenberry’s tone. I didn’t think it was so much that he hated Paul, but more that he hated the idea of a guilty person going free.

Moira tossed her blond hair behind her shoulder. “Well, do what you judge best, but if you want my opinion, I think you should hold off bringing him in.” She sat up straighter. “In fact, I think you should pretend that Dusty never showed you the texts at all.”

Brackenberry stared at my mom as if she’d gone insane. But Lady Elaine looked intrigued by the idea. “Why do you think that?”

A smug smile crossed my mom’s face. “Because that text message is a dead end. It proves nothing at all. And I’m quite sure that you’ll have no better luck getting the truth out of Paul Kirkwood this time than you did last time.”

A huge, wolfish grin spread across Brackenberry’s face. For a second, his eyes seemed to glow yellow. “Oh, I wasn’t the one interrogating him last time.”

A chill danced across my neck. I’d never particularly liked the sheriff, and now I had a better idea of why. There was something bloodthirsty about him.

Moira scoffed, completely unimpressed. “Whoever orchestrated his release in the first place won’t let you alone with him for more than a minute, and we both know it.”

Brackenberry’s grin disintegrated into a scowl.

“What do you suggest?” Lady Elaine asked.

The constant attitude my mom gave the sheriff lessened some when she addressed the older woman. “Let Dusty do it. Paul has already reached out to her through those texts. If you give it some time, she’ll be able to uncover all the buried secrets. I’m certain of it.”

I was completely taken aback, and not just by her faith in me. Her stance on this was a complete one-eighty from what she would’ve done a few months ago. I’d noticed the change earlier when she didn’t comment on the sheriff and Lady Elaine recruiting me to spy on Paul, but I’d dismissed it as a fluke. I couldn’t dismiss this, though.

Brackenberry leaned back and rubbed his beard, his eyes thoughtful. “I suppose you might have a point.” It sounded like the admission pained him.

To my mother’s credit, she resisted rubbing it in.

Lady Elaine turned her gaze to me. “Are you okay with this strategy?”

I scratched my head, unsure of how to answer. At the moment I was too numb with shock to be certain of anything. “I guess so.”

Lady Elaine frowned, her lips a thin tight line. “You need to be certain. Clearly, the situation is even more dangerous than we first suspected.”

“How so?”

Lady Elaine gave me one of her patient looks. “It’s obvious that you are as much of a target for whoever this madman is as Britney was.”

“What?”

“Honestly, Dusty,” Moira said, snapping her fingers. “You need to get with the picture.”

I might’ve held back my temper when it came to Selene, but my mom was a different story. “Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.”

“Then prove to me you aren’t.” Mom shifted in her seat, uncrossing and recrossing her legs. “You told us that Britney admitted she was waiting down there to attack Eli. Well, there’s only one reason why he would be a target of the same people who helped Paul escape punishment.”

Slowly, the answer came to me. Actually, it had been there the whole time—I’d just refused to admit it. The only reason why they would target Eli, an ordinary with only the smallest recourse to magic now that he was a Conductor, was because …

“He’s a dream-seer,” I said, my voice catching.

My mother nodded, her expression both proud and worried.

“Yes,” Lady Elaine said. “Whoever targets him, targets you both. Always.”

20

A New Client

I texted Paul six times that night when Selene and I finally got back to Arkwell. I said the same thing in each one:

We need to talk
.

He ignored them all.

I turned in around midnight, plugging in my cell and setting it beside my pillow. Even with the juice pumping to it, the stupid thing would probably shut itself off before morning. But in case it didn’t, I wanted to hear any incoming text messages. I had a feeling Paul wouldn’t ignore me forever.

I was right as sometime later, my phone chimed. I blinked the sleep out of my eyes and stared at the screen.

We will. Soon. I promise
.

Irritated by the short, useless message, I tossed the cell onto the floor. It beeped at me in protest then fell silent—turned off at last, no doubt. I rolled over and fell back into a fitful sleep.

*   *   *

I dreamed of the plinth again. The urgency to learn that word was stronger than ever. Even inside the madness of the dream, I seemed to understand that I must finish uncovering it soon. Everything depended on it.

I scraped and clawed and dug until all the skin on my hands was torn away, leaving the bones exposed.

By the end of it, I’d uncovered the next two letters—
L L
.

B E L L

*   *   *

I woke the next morning with the image of those four letters burned inside my brain.
BELL
. What did it mean? Was it something obvious, like a literal bell?

Only, there were still four more hidden letters. BELL was just the first part of a larger word. Of course, it was possible the word didn’t mean anything at all. I had no idea if the subject of a block held any significance. It could be something random and stupid, the mental equivalent of an earworm.

I sighed and got out of bed. It was time to take Mr. Deverell up on his offer. I still harbored reservations about someone else learning the word, but if the person behind Britney’s attack wanted the dream-seers out of the picture, then there must be something big coming. And given that small glimpse we’d seen in the Senate Hall dream, it would be all kinds of bad. I needed to get my dream-mojo working correctly again.

In the meantime, there was Paul to focus on. Remembering my discarded phone, I picked it up from where it had fallen beside my bed. Surprise, surprise—it was turned off. I hit the
POWER
button and then stuffed it into my pocket, knowing it would take a good five minutes to turn back on.