“Miss Melbourne, welcome.” Ms. Terwilliger took in Adrian with interest. “And welcome to your friend.”
“My brother,” I said pointedly. “Adrian.”
Ms. Terwilliger-fully aware of the Moroi world-smiled. “Yes. Of course. You attend Carlton, correct?”
“Yeah,” said Adrian. “You’re the one who helped get me in, right? Thanks for that.”
“Well,” said Ms. Terwilliger, with a shrug, “I’m always happy to help star pupils-especially those who are so diligent about keeping me in coffee. Now then, what’s this urgent matter that brings you out at night?”
My eyes were already on a large bookcase in her living room. The shelves were filled with old, leather-bound books-exactly the kind she always made me work on. “Do you… do you have a spell that would help locate someone?” I asked. Each word caused me pain. “I mean, I know they’re out there. I’ve come across them in my work a couple of times. But I was wondering if there was maybe one that you’d recommend over another.”
Ms. Terwilliger laughed softly, and I looked away. “Well, well. This is definitely worth a late-night visit.” We were in her dining room, and she pulled out an ornate wooden chair to sit down. One of the cats brushed against her leg. “There are a number of location spells, certainly-though none are quite at your level. And by your level, I mean your constant refusal to practice or better yourself.”
I scowled. “Is there one that you could do?”
She shook her head. “No. This is your problem. You’re going to do it. You need to.”
“Well, not if it’s beyond me!” I protested. “Please. This is a matter of life and death.” That, and I didn’t want to taint myself with her magic. Bad enough I was encouraging her at all.
“Rest easy. I wouldn’t make you do it if you couldn’t handle it,” she said. “To make it work, however, it’s imperative we have something that can connect us to the person we’re looking for. There are spells where that’s not necessary-but those are definitely out of your league.”
I produced Adrian’s brush from my purse. “Something like a strand of hair?”
“Something exactly like that,” she said, clearly impressed.
I’d remembered Adrian’s complaint about Sonya using some of his personal items. Although he apparently cleaned the brush regularly (and really, I’d expect nothing less from someone who spent so much time on his hair), there were still a few lingering red strands. Carefully, I plucked the longest one from the bristles and held it up.
“What do I need to do?” I asked. I was trying to be strong, but my hands shook.
“Let’s find out.” She rose and walked into the living room, studying the shelves. Adrian turned to me.
“Is she for real?” He paused and reconsidered. “Are you for real? Spells? Magic? I mean, don’t get me wrong. I drink blood and control people’s minds. But I’ve never heard of anything like this.”
“Neither had I until a month ago.” I sighed. “And unfortunately, it is real. Worse, she thinks I have a knack for it. Do you remember at all when one of the Strigoi in your apartment caught on fire?”
“Vaguely, but yeah. It kind of all got brushed aside, and I never thought much about it.” He frowned, troubled by the memory. “I was out of it from the bite.”
“Well, it wasn’t some freak accident. It was… magic.” I gestured toward Ms. Terwilliger. “And I made it happen.”
His eyes widened. “Are you some kind of mutant human? Like a fire user? And I use mutant as a compliment, you know. I wouldn’t think less of you.”
“It’s not like vampire magic,” I said. Some part of me supposed I should be pleased that Adrian would still be friendly with a “mutant.” “It’s not some internal connection to the elements. According to her, some humans can work magic by pulling it from the world. It sounds crazy, but… well. I did set a Strigoi on fire.”
I could see Adrian taking all of this in as Ms. Terwilliger returned to us. She set down a book with a red leather cover and flipped through the pages before finding what she wanted. We all peered at it.
“That’s not English,” said Adrian helpfully.
“It’s just Greek,” I said, skimming the ingredient list. “It doesn’t seem to require much.”
“That’s because a huge part of it is mental focus,” explained Ms. Terwilliger. “It’s more complicated than it looks. It’ll take you a few hours at least.”
I took in the time on an ornate grandfather clock. “I don’t have a few hours. Too close to curfew.”
“Easily remedied,” said Ms. Terwilliger. She picked up her cell phone from the table and dialed a number from memory. “Hello, Desiree? This is Jaclyn. Yes, fine. Thank you. I have Sydney Melrose out here right now, helping me on a very crucial project.” I nearly rolled my eyes. She was perfectly aware of my last name when she needed to be, apparently. “I’m afraid she might be out past the dorm curfew, and I was wondering if you’d be kind enough to allow an extension. Yes… yes, I know. But it’s very important for my work, and I think we can all agree that with her exemplary record, she’s hardly the type we need to worry about abusing such privileges. She’s certainly one of the most trustworthy students I know.” That got a small smirk from Adrian.
Thirty more seconds, and I was free of curfew. “Who’s Desiree?” I asked, once Ms. Terwilliger hung up.
“Your dorm matron. Weathers.”
“Really?” I thought of stout, motherly Mrs. Weathers. I never would’ve guessed her first name was Desiree. It was the kind of name I would associate with someone sultry and seductive. Maybe she had some scandalous life outside of school we didn’t know about. “So, do I have an all-night pass?”
“Not sure I’d push it that far,” said Ms. Terwilliger. “But we certainly have enough time for this spell. I can’t make it for you, but I can help you with the ingredients and supplies.”
I tapped the book, forgetting about my fear as I scanned the lengthy list. Details like this put me back in my comfort zone. “You have all of these?”
“Of course.”
Ms. Terwilliger led us down a hall that branched off from the kitchen, where I’d expect to find bedrooms. One room did indeed give us a glimpse of a bed as we walked by, but our eventual destination was something else altogether: a workshop. It was kind of what you’d get if you crossed a wizard’s lair with a mad scientist’s lab. Part of the room had very modern equipment: beakers, a sink, burners, etc. The rest was from a different era, vials of oils and dried herbs, along with scrolls and honest-to-goodness cauldrons. Plants and herbs lined the sill of a dark window. There were two more cats in here, and I was pretty sure they weren’t the same ones I’d seen in the living room.
“It looks chaotic,” said Ms. Terwilliger. “But I daresay it’s organized enough, even for you.”
Upon closer inspection, I saw she was right. All of the plants and little vials were labeled and in alphabetical order. All of the various tools were equally identified, enumerated by size and material. The room’s center was a large, smooth stone table, and I set the book down on it, careful to stay on the page I needed.
“What now?” I asked.
“Now, you construct it,” she said. “The more of it you do on your own, the stronger your connection will be to the spell. Certainly come and get me if you have trouble with the ingredients or the directions. Otherwise, the more of your focus and concentration that goes into this, the better.”
“Where are you going to be?” I asked, startled. As much as I disliked the thought of working with her in a creepy, arcane lab, I disliked the thought of being alone here even more.
Читать дальше