Page 27 of The Witch & the Wolf

“Your turn, Holly.”

Holly gulped before reaching out to touch the skeleton’s glowing form. She winced, her head snapping back as if slapped by a phantom wind before getting a firmer grip on the corpse. “I’m so going to be washing my hands for the next thirty years,” she muttered before her tone grew more serious. Arlo kept the spirit firmly under control, not taxing his magic by dragging answers out of it.

“This is Emilia Gold,” Holly said while Z’Hana leaned closer, not wanting to miss anything in the dark, dingy crypt. “She… she’s feeling many things right now. There was a group. Students, laughter. Candles. Drinks. Many groups, lots of laughter…” Holly clenched her teeth, trying to focus better. “They were daring people to enter the trapdoor. Then, when Emilia and Charles entered, they shut it on them. But…”

Holly cried out, and Arlo almost lost concentration.

“Oh, God!” Holly said, eyes opening. “He – Charles. He, he, he didn’t take… he’s a werewolf. He didn’t take medicine – it was a full moon. And they were in the tunnel, and he was frantic, begging them to let them out, then screaming at Emilia… she was scared. It was Emilia’s fault… and he…”

“He transformed?” Arlo whispered, horror slithering through him.

“He transformed and… killed her.”

“It seems that when the students realized this, they panicked and ran, not wanting to open the trapdoor to a werewolf. She… she remembers one called Adam Ford, but the other names aren’t familiar. I can’t – I can’t make sense of them from her mind.” Holly sighed. “Wow. Usually, I’m being possessed at this point, but this is so much easier.”

“Told you,” Arlo said, though he hadn’t known how effective this might be either. “I can keep it up for a bit longer.”

“I know Adam Ford’s parents,” Z’Hana said with a growl. “He’s a respectable businessman now.”

“He’s not very respectable here. But I don’t know; he seems like a stupid kid.” Holly frowned. “The echoes are getting a little more scattered, but from what I understand, the tunnel actually leads to the well. There’s something your shadow messenger didn’t spot last time. And… there’s…”

Holly let go of the corpse. “Z’Hana, are there any dangerous creatures that might inhabit water areas or wells?”

It turned out there were quite a few – and none of them were easy to handle, so it would be best not to go down the tunnel or approach the well physically.

Arlo felt a little of the soul’s energy – angry, sad, anguished before he released it, and the bones arranged themselves into a respectable pile. It was something he did by instinct, as a last way to honor the person they once belonged to.

Z’Hana said, “Nobody killed, no evil spirits lunging at us from the darkness, and enough evidence to please the Archon lot. Although… Emilia Gold’s parents will not be happy to hear about this… version of events.”

Then Arlo said, “Someone with her phone must have texted the parents to keep up the deception.” He noticed Holly staring into the trapdoor, frowning, and placed a hand around hers, pulling her away.

She blinked. “I guess prophecies really are unreliable, aren’t they?” She smiled. “Chloe said she saw something she thought was related to my future. A long, dark tunnel. But she didn’t know if it was dangerous or…”

“At least she’s not having visions about tomatoes; I suppose,” Z’Hana snorted while Arlo led Holly away.

Arlo exhaled in relief, happy that nothing had indeed attempted to murder them. He didn’t think he wanted to do something like this regularly, however. Much better to just stick to sterile rooms with a necromancer supervisor and not crawl through ancient crypts and risk the wrath of the unquiet dead.

Z’Hana arranged once more for Professor Umber’s air courier services, and they all flew back together, with Emilia Gold’s bones, to the balcony and were released into the Sunday afternoon to shower and present all their information to the principal.

At the end of it all, Arlo felt… dissatisfied. He examined his weekly text from his mother. Despite his father’s warnings – he saw nothing of ill intent in his mother’s words. Just inquiring after her son, as usual, and not hinting at the bitter family turmoil driving everyone apart. He still had many years to go at Dreadmor – the fallout would be happening without him there for most of it.

I hope they can remember they loved each other, he thought, tucking his phone away. They did, once.

How could such a wonderful love just… end? How did these things happen? A lump formed in his throat as the worried thoughts swirled in his brain. Then he thought of Charles and Emilia. Charles secretly visiting Emilia for months and months.

Surely, he loved her, too. Yet, with what Holly gleaned, he’d believed Emilia had betrayed him, somehow – and then he’d slain her. Sure, he was an out-of-control werewolf when he did so…

On impulse, Arlo inspected the drawer with his pills. The notion of his inner werewolf killing someone felt unbearable. Safer if the other party was a werewolf; otherwise, he needed to be vigilant for one week out of every month, taking the pills a few days before.

Love… it failed, or it existed, but it just wasn’t enough. He badly wanted to believe in it, even as people told him otherwise. Then… the little medium had come along, challenging him in the class with her aggressive eye contact, even when everyone else looked away, not afraid of his form. Well – he did sense some nerves, but not enough for her to recoil from him. Then the glances, the smiles. The kiss. The night.

He didn’t react as Holly quietly let herself into the room. He’d left the door ajar specifically for her. She sidled in with a shy smile and two mugs of coffee. Good – he mustn’t be left alone with his thoughts for too long. The coffee tasted like heaven but was even better because she made it.

“Drink up. You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Holly said, which caused him to snicker.

“Funny you should mention that…” When she sat next to him, he leaned his head against her, trying to settle his thoughts. “I’ve been… thinking a lot. But the thinking doesn’t bring any clear answers.”

“I know what you mean. I expect to know exactly what to do, as if some thunderbolt was slamming into me, making everything clear. I’ve been thinking, too. It really didn’t end well for Charles and Emilia, did it?”

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