Chapter 29
Kat
None of us slept. After what we discovered in the basement of the building, the three of us went back to Crane’s bedroom, locked the door, sprinkled more salt around the perimeter, and then waited for daylight.
There was no chance that I would go back to my dorm room alone, not after that, so we did what we could to be comfortable.
Crane gallantly gave me the bed and laid out his coat and towels on the floor for himself.
Brom gladly took the bed with me, enjoying the sight of Crane beneath him.
But other than Brom holding me through the night, which I appreciated, we kept our hands to ourselves and talked the whole night through, trying to make sense of what we saw and why Vivienne Henry showed it to us.
We came to the same conclusion.
There’s something awful in the basement.
Something that’s been eating humans.
Those humans may or may not be the teachers that have gone missing. They might be people procured from town, drifters in the area, or they might be students too, perhaps the ones who were sent home early on because they weren’t cut out for the academics of the school, or so the sisters said.
Either way, the basement is a place you don’t want to end up.
“And Simon,” I say, my mouth tasting sour at the thought. “He said his mother lived in the basement. Do you think she was…in that room? Or are there other rooms, other basements? Did he have to visit his mother while she was hanging from a giant spiderweb?”
“For the sake of our sanity,” Crane says, getting to his feet and peering out the window. “Let’s assume there are other basements, ones that don’t have giant spiders in them. The sun is almost up.”
I groan, relieved that the day is breaking, but I’m so dizzyingly tired that I just want to sleep for days and days.
“Promise me,” I say, leaning my head against the wall. “When Brom is free from the horseman and we leave this place, that we find an inn somewhere with the largest bed in the world, and we proceed to stay on that bed and sleep and have sex for days on end?”
Crane lets out a groan as he fixes his eyes on me. “That is music to my ears, sweet witch.”
Brom, however, doesn’t say anything. I turn my head to look at him beside me on the bed, and he’s staring straight up at the ceiling.
A cold finger of panic works its way down my spine.
He hasn’t been all right for a while now, and it’s not just the horseman.
Ever since our tryst in the barn he’s been quieter and more despondent than usual.
Or maybe it is the horseman. Brom has always been mercurial, but who knows what it’s truly like to live with someone else inside you?
“What do you say, Brom?” I ask, tapping his leg with mine.
“Mmm?” he says, blinking. “That sounds like heaven. As long as we can eat on the bed too.”
“No crumbs,” Crane grumbles as he stares down at Brom. “The only thing we’ll be eating is Kat, and possibly my—”
A bloodcurdling scream fills the air, coming from outside.
Crane presses himself against the window as Brom and I spring out of bed.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” Crane says, eyes darting around the landscape.
He shoves away from the window, grabs his coat, and pulls out his boots, as Brom and I do the same. Then we hurry out of the room and into the hall. As we go down the wing toward the mezzanine, Crane pauses by an open door.
“Daniels?” Crane asks as he peers inside Professor Daniels’s room. There doesn’t seem to be anyone in there.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Crane mutters, and then quickens his pace as he strides to the mezzanine and down the stairs.
We burst outside into a dark gray mist and out into the courtyard where a couple of students have gathered.
There, in the middle of it, surrounded by a pool of blood, is a man in his pajamas.
Missing a head.
“Oh hell,” I swear, covering my mouth in case I vomit, and turn around into Crane’s chest. For all that the horseman has done, this is the first time I’ve actually seen one of his victims after they’ve been killed, and I don’t think I have the stomach for it.
Crane puts an arm around me, holding me tight. “It’s Daniels. It’s Daniels,” he says over again, sounding as if he’s in shock. “The horseman killed Daniels.”
I raise my head to look up at Crane, thinking the same thing he is, and then we both look over at Brom.
“I didn’t do it,” Brom says, raising his hands, shaking his head vigorously. “I swear to God, I swear, I didn’t do it.”
“The horseman did,” Crane growls at him. “And you knew.”
“No!” Brom says adamantly. “I did not. The whole night you were with me, you saw me, I didn’t know what the horseman was doing, I don’t know where he went.” He gestures to Daniels’s lifeless body. “This is not my doing. I had nothing to do with this.”
The two other students nearby give Brom a curious look.
“Keep your voice down,” I hiss at him.
“You have to believe me,” Brom says, the anguish clearly visible in his dark eyes as he presses his palms together as if in prayer. “I didn’t know anything about this. This wasn’t me and I didn’t know. I didn’t know!”
Crane is breathing in deep through his nostrils, and I see the corner of his jaw flex, his pulse pounding at his throat, and I’m suddenly fearful of what he might do.
Then he lets go of me and marches toward Brom, whose fists clench in response.
Then Crane goes past Brom.
Heading in the direction of the cathedral.
“Where are you going?” I call out after Crane, gathering up my skirt and quickly running after him.
“I’m going to talk to the sisters,” Crane yells over his shoulder. “This has gone on long enough. I should have done this a long time ago.”
“Crane!” Brom calls out, running alongside me. “Don’t draw attention to yourself!”
But it’s too late because as we pass the classroom building beside the herb garden, Sister Sophie suddenly steps out in front of us.
“Mr. Crane,” Sister Sophie says in a commanding voice, her hood down. “May I have a word with you?”
“No, I believe I’m going to have a word with you,” he says, pivoting toward her.
Sister Sophie nods and looks around her, then motions with her hand for us to follow her as she disappears into one of the stone buildings that house the classrooms.
We go inside the front doors, the hallway dark except for the faint morning light coming in through the windows, and Crane springs into action, grabbing Sister Sophie by the throat and slamming her back against the wall.
“Crane!” I yell at him to stop, but Sophie just gives him a faint smile.
“I understand your frustration, Mr. Crane,” she says, her voice sounding completely normal despite the fact that he’s strangling her. “And to see your anger come out is a beautiful thing indeed. But I don’t think you should kill me. I’m on your side, after all.”
“Crane, let her go,” Brom says in a gruff voice.
There’s fire in Crane’s eyes, not the usual inferno that I see in Brom’s black depths, but something that’s both white-hot and ice-cold. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this way. It’s almost as if he’s impossible to reach.
But then Crane’s grip relaxes, and he lets go of Sophie. Her feet touch the floor, and it’s only then that I realize he had her dangling in the air.
She clears her throat and adjusts her cloak at the collar.
“Do you feel better now?” she asks him in a clipped voice. “Was it helpful to get out your rage without killing another?”
“Go to hell,” he says, spitting on the floor in front of her, his hair wild across his face.
“Charming,” she comments with a curl of her upper lip. Then she looks at me. “And here we have Katrina.” Then she looks at Brom, and her face visibly softens. “And, of course, our dear Abraham.”
“I’m not your anything,” Brom sneers at her.
“Hmm,” she muses, her eyes flicking over us. “A den of vipers. I can’t say I blame you for all that you’ve been through. Though I must let you know that you have been spared so much.”
“What happened to Daniels?” Crane says, his eyes still flickering with anger. “What happened to Desi and Ms. Peek and Ms. Wiltern? To Vivienne Henry?”
“You’re asking all the wrong questions, Mr. Crane,” she says. “It’s not about what happened to them. It’s about what will happen to you. You, if you don’t put your head down and continue doing what you were hired to do. To teach.”
“And us,” I say to her, pointing at Brom. “What is supposed to happen to us?”
She gives me a tight smile. “You know what will happen to you, Katrina. It’s written in the stars. Your fate was decided a long time ago. In 1695, to be specific.”
“You were part of the original coven,” Brom says to her. “You made the deal with the demon. You were there.”
“My dear Abraham,” she says, walking toward him.
He stands his ground as she puts the back of her hand against his cheek.
“I never wanted this. I never wanted any of this. I hated Leona and Ana with a passion. It was Margaret who agreed to the bargain with them. I never would have sacrificed one of my sons if I had the choice. But I had no choice. I am no match for a demon. For a god.”
“One of your…,” Crane begins. “Are you Brom’s real mother?”
She gives Crane a tired look. “I have had many sons, Mr. Crane.” Then she sighs and gazes at Brom. “And Abraham is my last one. No longer shall your name be called Abram, but your name shall be Abraham, for I have made you the father of a multitude of nations,” she quotes.
“You’re quoting the Bible now?” Crane asks with a shake of his head.
She shrugs with one shoulder. “I thought it was a fitting name, given that he was the coven’s last chance to sire our immortality, the nations of witches.”
“Just wait a minute,” Brom says. “Are you saying that my father is actually my brother?”
Sister Sophie’s eyes dance. “Your father is your cousin. He is Margaret’s son. And you wouldn’t even be in this predicament had Sarah married Liam like she was supposed to.”
“Technically he wouldn’t have been born,” Crane points out.