Chapter 6 Cendi
CENDI
By late afternoon, the castle had settled into a rhythm that sounded almost normal.
Kettles hissed. Shoes squeaked on stone that still held the morning chill.
People drifted down the halls, laughing and talking.
It was strange how not strange the castle was to me now.
All of the sounds, all of the people, felt like another home to me.
We staked out a quiet, little corner table in the cafeteria to continue our investigation about the ghost and the key. Jessie set a notebook between us and drew four boxes. She labeled them with our names, then added a fifth for leads.
“Keep it simple,” Jessie said, using a very practical tone. “People will clam up if they feel like they’re being interrogated. Ask where they were when the lights went out last night. Ask if they heard anything strange afterward.”
“Ask what they think of Ms. Maple,” Robbie added, tapping the notebook page. “We keep hearing her name in two different moods. Helpful and sneaky. That mix deserves a closer look.”
He was right. I hadn’t even thought about it, but the woman was definitely suspicious. Not that suspicions definitely meant someone was guilty. I’d had enough suspicions thrown my way to know that, but it just meant she was worth investigating.
Jaylyn leaned in and tapped her box on the page. “I can talk to the witches who clean the castle at night. They know who comes and goes.”
“I’ll check the dorm corridors and the Godmother Wing,” I said. “We passed through there on our way to the party. Someone might have noticed something and thought it was nothing.”
Jessie slid the notebook to Robbie. “Teachers,” she said. “You can take Mr. Clarke. He has opinions about everything that isn’t protocol. He also has eyes that never stop scanning the corners, and he won’t want to talk to me.”
Robbie saluted with a fork that still held half a lemon bar. “On it.”
We split up and promised to meet back at the same table before dinner.
The castle granted me mercy. Very quickly I realized that people felt important when I asked them for details.
They handed over small facts that might end up being useful, as if paying for their seat at the day’s story.
The trick was to invite the story rather than chase it.
I approached speaking to the people in the castle in a casual way, which made them feel relaxed, and got them talking.
The dorms gave me my first piece of helpful information. Alicia stood near the laundry flicking a drying charm at a sweater that didn’t appreciate magic and chose to stretch anyway. She was a little irritated, but kept at it, seeming happy to have me to talk to while doing the boring task.
“I passed the staff corridor twice last night,” she said.
“I went back for a book that turned out to be in my bag. A light was on in the second-floor bathroom. It went off when I came past the second time. I only noticed because the fan stopped. No one answered when I asked if anyone was there. It creeped me out. I ran.”
“What time?” I kept my tone easy.
“Right before the glow under Vanderflit’s door,” she said. “Close enough for my brain to mash the two together.” She folded the sweater and gave it a stern look. “It was probably nothing.”
“Probably,” I said. “Thank you.”
Marcus and Edith sat on the stairs trading theories about how the castle bucked hard enough to rattle pictures without ripping the drywall.
Ms. Ingow drifted past and gave them both a glare.
Neither had an alibi worth much, but both repeated the same rumor.
Ms. Maple had been in the stacks late. Someone saw her carrying a pile of books that belonged on the restricted shelves. No one agreed on the titles.
I found Drew and Ava on the third floor, staring at the scuffed threshold near Vanderflit’s office. Drew studied the wood the way a chess player watches the space behind a knight.
“Any luck?” he asked without looking up.
“We have a bathroom light,” I said. “Staff corridor. Second floor. Close to the incident.”
Ava lifted her head. “Who told you?”
“Alicia. She noticed the fan on. No one answered when she called out.”
Ava added that to their notes. “Good ear,” she said, then corrected herself with a small smile. “Good observation. Thank you.”
I left them to their threshold studying and went on.
Jaylyn found me at our table carrying two mugs of tea.
“I have times,” she said. “Library door closing at eleven twenty-ish. Staff corridor door opening at eleven twenty-fiveish and again at eleven forty. Ish. The cleaning witches didn’t know who it was though. ”
Jessie dropped into the seat beside me with a small stack of index cards.
“I have rumors that fit together.” She read them out in order.
“Ms. Maple was seen in the stacks after ten. Ms. Maple was seen again with a crate near the basement archives. Then Ms. Maple startled a first year from the other side of the academy in the hallway. That last one came from a kid who dramatizes everything, but still.”
Robbie arrived last with a report from Mr. Clarke that balanced criticism with useful bits. “He thinks all of this is above our pay grade,” Robbie said.
We hung around until the dinner rush hit and the library cleared out.
The door opened on the hush that follows a day full of whispered study sessions.
Ms. Maple stood behind the front desk with a pencil stuck in her bun and three different stacks of books in front of her.
She jumped when we came out from between the rows of books, then pressed a hand to a small charm at her throat.
The charm glowed once and went quiet again.
“Sorry,” she said. “You startled me. You’re very quiet.” Her gaze skipped from face to face and then landed on my cardigan as if a sweater could answer the questions that clattered behind her eyes. “Can I help you?”
“We hope so,” Jessie said. “We have a few questions about last night.”
Ms. Maple’s hands fussed with a stack of cards that didn’t need straightening. “Questions?” She nodded too fast. “Of course. I have answers, I hope.”
“Where were you after ten?” I asked.
“In here,” she said. “Mostly. I shelved periodicals in the east wing and then ran a circulation report. I took the crate of misprints down to the basement to move them out of the way.” She rubbed the charm at her neck and winced as if it had zapped her.
Jessie let a beat pass. “Did you see anyone in the staff corridor?”
Maple made a small face at the stack of cards and only then answered. “Yes.” She swallowed and then produced a small, nervous smile.
“Go ahead,” I said.
“I went to the second-floor bathroom,” she said.
“The fluorescent bulb in the mirror buzzed by the middle sink. It always does, and I always promise myself to learn how to fix it, then I forget. The door pushed at my shoulder from the other side. Someone was in a hurry. I stepped back and the person rushed through. It was you.” She looked at me and flinched, then forced herself to hold my gaze.
“I dropped my charm, and you said sorry without stopping. You bumped my shoulder hard enough to spin me.”
Jessie stayed very still. “What time was this?”
“Right before the glow under Mr. Vanderflit’s door,” Maple said. “Minutes.”
“You touched her?” Robbie asked gently. “This is important. You felt contact.”
“Yes,” Maple said, then flushed at the word and tried again.
“Your shoulder struck mine. Solid contact. I picked up my charm and pressed it to my palm to keep it from ringing. It buzzed in a way it only does when ward lines groan. I came back here and stood behind that desk for a full minute preparing to call for help. Then the castle lurched, and the lights went wrong.”
Panic pressed behind my ribs, and I refused to let it find a home there. I had lived through worse stories. I could live through this one. Besides, I hadn’t done anything wrong. The truth always prevails.
“Did you notice anything off,” Jaylyn asked. “Any detail that didn’t match Cendi?”
“The color of the cardigan,” Maple said at once, then wavered. “No. The hair. No, that was correct. The shoes. You wore boots. No, everyone wears boots.” She shook her head, miserable with the uncertainty of it. “I’m sorry. I want to be useful.”
“You are,” Jessie said. “You gave us one thing we needed. Physical contact rules out a ghost.”
Maple nodded and then hesitated again. “I didn’t tell the hunters yet. I didn’t want them to think I wander into bathrooms when trouble starts. I want to be good at this job. I want them to trust me.”
“They will,” I said. “Thank you for telling us. We will share this with them if you prefer, or you can deliver it yourself.”
She squared her shoulders by an inch. “I’ll go now,” she said.
“If I don’t, I’ll talk myself out of it.
Please don’t move the stack of returns while I am gone.
They bite.” She flushed and waved her hands.
“The papers don’t bite. The enchanted stamps do.
I have a plan to make them stop. It involves tea and gentle scolding. ”
We promised to leave her stacks alone.
When she hurried toward the stairs, she moved in small, quick bursts that matched her words. The charm at her throat glimmered once in the stairwell light and then went still, which left me wondering about what it did and why she wore it, but other thoughts overtook that one.
Robbie watched the staircase long after Maple had disappeared. “If you hadn’t been with us all evening, I would tell you to check your phone for a photo from the bathroom mirror. It would be convincing.”
We walked the long way back to the dorms. The day had asked for courage in small ways, and tomorrow would ask again. We knew how to answer. We would ask questions. We would trust the right people. We would keep moving.
When I reached my room, Tilly and Simon executed their usual welcome parade.
I scooped them up and held them until my shoulders relaxed.
The window showed a sky that had traded its winter glare for a softer gray.
The bed promised rest. I set my phone on the nightstand and called it a night with no flourish.