Page 15 of Sweet Nightmare

Luis, on the other hand, jumps straight past panic into full-blown terror. “I didn’t hear anything. Did something actually get out?” He squints his eyes, surveying the hallway with his diminished but still excellent wolf vision.

“It’s not the menagerie.” I try to force my feet to start moving again, but they don’t budge.

His eyes widen as he finally figures out why he isn’t hearing—or seeing—what I am. “Oh, fuck.”

I look down at the floor, focus on the cracks running through the cement, and force myself to get my shit together.

“Let’s go,” I tell him.

“Go?” Luis looks wild eyed. “Don’t we need a plan? The last thing I want is for them to hurt you again.”

“They won’t.” I blow out a breath. “And I have a plan.”

“Oh yeah?” His brows go up.

“Get in front of me and run like hell. We’ll take the long way to the chricklers and hope they don’t follow us.”

“That’s it? That’s the whole plan?” he demands.

I nod. “That’s the whole plan.”

“I should have made it clear I meant a good plan.” Still, he starts backing up. “Okay, tell me when to run.”

Another eerie wail makes every one of my pores prickle. The sounds are getting closer.

One more deep breath before I force myself to shout, “Now!”

We book it all the way back down the hallway, but I skid to a stop a few feet before we have to turn because the eerie light is leaking around that corner, too.

“Why are we stopping?” Luis demands. “Shouldn’t we—”

“We need to get to the stairwell.” I grab his arm and start tugging him backward.

“The stairwell? What about the chricklers?”

“They’ll have to wait.” But the second I turn around, I know it’s too late.

“What do we do?” Luis yells.

“I don’t know,” I answer. Because everywhere I turn is suddenly filled with ghosts.

Hundreds and hundreds of ghosts.

CHAPTER NINE

TIME TO GET THE

HALL OUT OF HERE

The ghosts hover just a few inches off the floor, and they all have three things in common. They’re all translucent, they all have a strange, misty glow that radiates from inside them, and they all emit a musty smell that reminds me of old, dusty books.

Right now, the hallway smells like a dim, ancient library even though it’s lit up like a fireworks show.

“Shit, there are a lot today,” I mutter. I try to draw a mental map around them to the stairwell, but it’s so crowded right now that I don’t know how I’m supposed to get past them all unscathed.

Because of Calder Academy’s long and not-so-illustrious past, a lengthy, spectral legacy has remained. One that is distinctly uncomfortable for me, since I’ve been able to see them my entire life.

I don’t know why I can see them when no one else in my family can. And I definitely don’t know why the same spell and equipment that inhibit my manticore magic, that keep me from being able to shift or create venom, don’t also tamp down this weird ability. Maybe it’s not a power at all. Maybe it’s something extra the fates decided to curse me with, as if being born on this damn island wasn’t curse enough.

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