Chapter Seven: Holly

When she woke up and remembered what had happened last evening, she let out a small squeal and kicked her legs. The excitement, the joy – was difficult to contain in such a tiny body. She kicked a few more times as if her legs were loaded with springs and her blanket toppled off.

Back in her own bed, after she crept to her dorm room at some ungodly hour in the night, a part of her wished she'd been bolder and just stayed with Arlo in his bed. The long, indulgent sex marathon had left both of them with hair rumpled, lips swollen, and skin flushed as they got lost in the closeness of one another.

The last session Holly herself had attempted before was nothing like this. The sheer, undulating passion – the constant heat licking through her body, the ache from her hips and thighs… yeah. She'd been missing out. Also, she might have completely exhausted Arlo's stamina.

A few more kicks ensued, along with an aggressive grab of her pillow to squeal in it again. God, she hadn't felt like this since she was fifteen. Her thoughts were somewhat sober, however, when she remembered that she'd allowed herself to be roped into another investigation involving dead bodies and potentially psychotic spirits.

That… was not sexy to think about.

She sighed, trying to push away the unpleasant memory of Charles Suntooth's possession, though even with the sheer horror of losing control of her body, the echoes of his emotions still drifted to the surface. No. She wanted to remember Arlo. Yet her mind treacherously kept creeping back to Charles Suntooth and those complicated, hateful emotions.

He really hadn't expected betrayal. He'd been so surprised at whatever happened. She didn't know if that meant anything.

Her smile picked up again when she got a good morning text from Arlo.

"Hope you remember a lot about last night because I do ;)"

She grinned but didn't respond, instead going for her early-morning routine. No lessons today. Students, of course, could study if they wished, and some teachers did offer extra lessons, but it wasn't a requirement. No lessons, and yet she still woke up stupidly early. With some coffee, a luxurious hair brushing, then sneakily using her brush as a back scrub, she felt good to go.

Since the day outside promised to be properly dismal and foggy, that meant a long-sleeved top, jeans, and a jacket tied around her waist in case it got colder. Early fall still had some warm days, even as the leaves on the trees gradually changed color and fell, leaving piles of them to kick through.

A gloomy, foggy day. And most likely, they would have to go back to the village and stomp around the well. Delightful.

Sure enough, as she prepared to take a nice, lonely morning stroll around the gardens, she received a text from Z'Hana, noting that they would be visiting the village at noon, and she expected to see Holly there.

"If you do not wish to come, please inform me in advance. However, I think that, in particular, we will need your sensitivity to put an end to this fifteen-year-old mystery."

No pressure. The flattery was nice, at least, and made Holly feel slightly less bad about her own performance the day before, though she really wished she had received more training to deal with and resist spirits that became too rambunctious and preferably before walking out to some odd location and maybe even crossing over into the enchanted woodland, which might not be the wisest thing for them to do.

Just as she started thinking about telling her friends, another text popped up – this one from Chloe.

"Uh, so, I kind of had a vision with Harrow, and after we both talked about it, we think it might be something to do with you?"

A vision? This sounded… ominous. "Really?"

"We're not totally confident, but we thought it best to mention it anyway. The vision involved something underground. It was dark, but there was something in the darkness. The door slammed on you. That's it."

"That's… it?" That was frustratingly vague. "Was I in danger?"

"That's the thing. We don't know if it was a warning of danger. I mean, doors slamming behind you in creepy dark places is some cause for concern, but in the vision, you didn't seem panicked. That's all I can tell you. Sorry for the, uh, vision dump this early in the morning. We don't often get ones that might actually be related to people close to us."

"Thank you!" Holly said. She debated telling them that she was most likely going to the well again. A well seemed like an appropriately dark and creepy place, but wells didn't generally have doors. Still, she re-read the message a few times, wondering… should she actually refuse to go? It might be safest. But then… Arlo would be alone, except for Z'Hana, who had powers of her own, but they weren't powers related to the dead.

I can't leave him to do this alone, she thought with a sinking feeling. But I will need to be careful not to get myself into a difficult position.

Her stomach churned uneasily, and she hoped she wasn't choosing wrong.

Arlo met her in the dining hall for breakfast of mushrooms, toast, fried eggs, sausages, and beans, which seemed to be appropriately greasy food for a small group of students who looked incredibly hungover from whatever activities they'd been up to last night.

They ate in silence, occasionally stealing glances at each other, prompting a flood of pleasant memories to arise. Once or twice, their knees bumped, and Arlo's hand also sidled across the table to gently hold hers.

Even that soft, gentle touch was enough for Holly's spine to prickle. Oh, this man… her mother would flip if she suspected her daughter might be attracted to a necromancer.

She sent her mother a quick mental note: Hope you're doing okay, and hopefully, things are good at home.

Then tried to enjoy Arlo's company and his smile, which made the corners of his eyes crinkle as he looked at her with obvious affection. She could practically see the hearts floating around them.

"Don't tell anyone I said this," Arlo whispered, "but you might be one of the best kissers I've kissed recently."

"Kissed a lot of girls recently, have you?" she asked, eyebrows arching.

Arlo grunted. "I wish." Then he looked alarmed. "I mean, I don't wish, uh." He paused. "I'll shut up now."

She giggled, waving him off. "It's okay; I know what you mean."

Though that was oddly… cute.

She didn't think he would appreciate her using the word "cute" to describe him, so she kept it to herself. Now that they'd made love, the change in energy between them was unbelievable. There was less wondering, less trying to suppress any burgeoning feelings to preserve their friendship and a lot more close-body contact. Plus, there were the butterflies. So many of them, filling her stomach and lungs and words. Her legs also felt tremulous and weak, as if standing up might be one of the most challenging things she'd need to do today.

If only that were the most challenging thing she needed to do today.

Should she tell him about the vision? Or would that only make him worry? If she mentioned it, he might insist on her not coming. It might devolve into an argument.

With those thoughts, she settled in the end by keeping it close to her chest and hoping, once more, that no terrible mistake was in the making.

The morning went by too fast. They stole a kiss in the gardens. Well, quite a few kisses whenever they were sure no one was watching. Once more, they speculated about the statue and whether or not it might be a student, and they fed a curious squirrel that darted near them, black tail rippling behind it like a banner. Dreadmor's squirrel population was, of course, black.

With noon approaching, they took the scenic walk toward the village once more, chattering away, trying not to think of dead things and ghosts.

"Hopefully, we'll have enough time to go to the cinema today. See what old movie is playing," Arlo enthused, "since you wanted to go, right?"

"Yeah, of course," Holly agreed, but she was distracted. "So, I just thought of this, Arlo, but with your like, werewolf transformation thing, does that only happen when the moon is full? Or can you transform whenever?"

"We can't control it during the three days the moon is at its fullest. We transform, whether we like it or not – so some take medication to suppress it, and some don't take anything. I take a certain medicine that lets me retain the werewolf form and my human mind."

"Aren't the ones who don't take anything dangerous to be around?"

"They go to a special room, like a dungeon with chains. They voluntarily lock themselves in. Some of the really rich ones have walled enclosures to run in. And some of the psychopathic ones just will run free, and it's too bad for anyone they run into. There's a mountain range near Archon Academy where they strongly discourage students from going during the full moon because there are some wilder tribes of werewolves that run free."

Holly took this all in with an open mouth. "Are all werewolves like you, too? They walk on two legs?"

"Most. Some tribes might be on four legs. Oh, as for your other question earlier – a fair amount of us can transform without the full moon, but we do this by choice and only if we're strong enough to be able to force the change."

"Are you strong enough?"

He smiled. "Yes." Something flickered behind his eyes, and she shivered. It felt like there was something more primal lurking there – something she might never understand. She wanted to barrage him with more questions, but her phone vibrated continuously, along with the lilting piano melody she recognized as her mom's ringtone.

"Oh, that's… Mom…" she took out her phone. Her mom was demanding a video call. She clicked, plastering on a big smile and waving. "Hi, Mom! How're you?"

"Amazing," her mother said, smiling a little too widely. "I have consulted the cards, daughter," she said, in the voice she liked to use for her customers, "and I would like to know the young man the cards seem to be telling me about."

"Oh…"

Arlo suppressed a laugh, covering his mouth.

"I heard something. Do show."

"Mom, you don't have to be this nosy…"

"Show."

With an exasperated sigh, Holly turned the phone to show Arlo, who also stamped on a lovely smile. "Hi, Holly's mom."

"Ah ha. You're more handsome than the cards implied. Alright, now, my reading of Holly showed that she was with a young man, surrounded by death. I would like to do a reading of you to make sure you're not a serial killer."

Holy crap."Mom, are you for real? You called to read Arlo's cards?"

Arlo, of course, kept laughing, unable to conceal it.

"I will do a six-card reading." With a rather dramatic flair, eyes glaring out of the phone at Arlo, her mother produced six cards, spreading them out in a circle. The angle only briefly showed the cards before her mother infuriatingly tilted the cards from view. "Mm hm. Mm hm. Fascinating…"

Arlo mouthed, "You weren't kidding when you said she had powers."

Help me,Holly mouthed back, and he bit back another laugh.

"I see. It appears… you are a man who works with death. Many spirits clamor around you, attracted to your light. You must be careful not to let them suck that light from you because they would if you do not keep adequate control of your powers. A long, dark tunnel – an unknown path awaits you. That path must not be trod alone. One light in the darkness is a treasure, but two is even better."

Arlo blinked a few times.

"A necromancer?" Her mother dropped the dramatic voice. "Is my daughter dating a necromancer? My word, I've never heard of such a thing…"

"Mom!" Holly whipped the phone back so Arlo no longer hovered in sight. "We're not dating!"

Not yet.

"We just sit together in class, and we have shared assignments. We're going on an assignment right now!"

"Sure, sure, ‘assignments.' That's what the kids call it these days."

"Mom!" Holly flushed, wanting to sink into a hole in the ground. "Can you not embarrass me in front of my friend? God!"

"Necromancer!" her mother exclaimed again, shaking her head, and the various earrings attached to her lobes jangled. "I never…"

"I hope you can read the tarot still because maybe it'll show me turning up at your door with an ax."

Holly ended the call, cheeks twin furnaces at this point, and Arlo burst out into raucous laughter.

"Ha, ha, she must be fun at parties!"

"Oh, my God…" Holly threw her hands in the air, almost chucking her phone away in the same motion. "I can't believe her. She knew what she was doing. She wanted to embarrass me."

"I mean, are they even your parents if they don't want to embarrass their own child from time to time?" Arlo asked, grinning. Of course, he kept poking her about it all the way to the village.

However, the mood turned more somber once they approached the field with the well near the lip of the glowing woodland. Z'Hana waited by the stile, idly browsing through her cell phone, and nodded curtly to them when they arrived.

"Good idea to have brought jackets – it might get chilly later. Now… I may not have the type of powers you two hold, but that doesn't mean I will be useless on this trip." She fished something out of her pocket – a leather bracelet with some patterns carved into it. "I was able to get permission to requisition this from our artifact stores. It's not a powerful artifact by itself – but it can be very useful for a medium." She handed it to Holly, who peered closer at the patterns decorating it. They appeared to depict what looked like a stick man waving a spear at floating stickmen without legs.

"What does it do?" she asked, even as Z'Hana helped her fasten it to her wrist.

"It can protect from possession. More than that, it can make it a little easier for you to be able to resist the emotions of the ghost you contact. Since mediums cannot only be possessed – they can be trapped in hallucinations and strong echoes of emotion from the ghost that can affect their ability to function. As we don't really have many mediums going through the academy, this bracelet is normally lent out to mediums in some of the other schools. Luckily, we had it on hand this time."

Holly regarded the bracelet with a lot more respect. Something like this had the potential to really save her ass. She shuddered, remembering the loss of control over her limbs and knowing she didn't want to feel like that ever again.

"Anything for me?" Arlo asked.

"No, generally, you don't need to worry about psychic echoes and possession. You just need to worry about your own revived bodies trying to kill you."

"That's… reassuring," Arlo said, though he did not look reassured. He narrowed his brilliant eyes at the teacher. "What can you do to help out?"

"I have somewhat of an affinity with curses and curse-breaking," Z'Hana said. "If wherever we go is a little more deadly than just a room, I will protect you from it. One more thing – about Emilia Gold. It seems she went missing, as well, but her missing was considered less suspicious."

"How so?"

"She was texting her family. They said at one point she mentioned she'd met someone and moved to Guatemala to be with them… hasn't messaged in some time, but they seem to think she just eloped and wanted no contact."

"Only texts? They never saw her face or heard her speak?" Arlo asked. "What about the school?"

"Yes, it's suspicious. As for the school – Emilia had just finished her last year. So, there was no reason to be concerned when she didn't return to the academy."

The three of them regarded one another, and Holly knew none of them believed for a second that Emilia Gold had skipped off to Guatemala to be with some mysterious lover, given that the person she was apparently dating happened to be the dead Charles Suntooth.

His spirit… had mentioned betrayal. There were people potentially covering up something here. None of them knew if they'd find answers, but the only way to be sure was to explore the area and search for clues that no one had spotted since Suntooth disappeared down the well, assuming he had actually been in the well for fifteen years. That was another possibility to consider.

Standing by the well, Holly listened with her psychic senses, trying to get a feel for something unusual. She still sensed a psychic echo, the rushing sensation of falling, when she touched the bucket, which suggested to her that the body must have been there for some time.

"I do think he was in the well all this time. The place still has his strong psychic print. That wouldn't happen if he were tossed in recently."

Z'Hana noted the information. "That's something. We have two options, no, three options, from what I can see." She pointed to each option. "The well – we might need to determine if there is some odd space down there; the woods – we should look for something there; and the cemetery – a place where, sometimes, the more daring students go despite being told to keep out by the grave keepers."

None of the options seemed particularly appealing to Holly or Arlo, especially the well. No one wanted to go spelunking down there.

Luckily, Z'Hana did have one more trick up her sleeve. She whispered to something in her palm, then released a shadowy distortion of the air, which slid out of vision.

The shadowy distortion returned to her hands a minute later. "No entrances," she said. "We don't need to go into the well; there will be no bodies in water, either." She poked the No Drinking! sign that had been hastily placed near the well since their last visit.

"What did you do?" Holly asked.

"I made a messenger," she said. "Usually, I use it to search for hidden curses, but it has other applications, too."

Interesting, Holly thought.

They examined the well a little more. It was a dark, creepy place… like in Chloe's text… and then her mother had mentioned a long, dark tunnel. Holly had the sinking feeling that the cemetery might end up being their next stop. Z'Hana placed a hand on her shoulder. "Are you sensing something from the cemetery?"

"Maybe. I mean, it's a cemetery."

"Fair."

The cemetery was located next to the village church in a nearby field, spreading to the outskirts of town. When they reached it, the ground seemed to shift subtly. Grave moss grew around the stones and statues that marked the final resting places of the dead. On the one hand, Holly felt relieved that she wouldn't have to go into some strange, enchanted woods where some weird fae creature might swap her soul with a garden gnome's or something. On the other hand, the woods were… not here.

Already, psychic echoes whispered in the air, pressing at her from all sides. None was in focus, but this was a place of loved ones, sentimental objects and belongings, and not every spirit was calm and peaceful.

"Let me know what you sense," Z'Hana said. "In the meanwhile, I will interview this local…" Z'Hana stalked over to what looked like one of the grave tenders, who was standing by a shed attached to the rear of the church, leaving Holly and Arlo to process everything alone.

"How are you feeling?" Arlo whispered to Holly, understanding this might be difficult.

"Uneasy," she whispered back but tapped her wrist. "If this bracelet does what it's supposed to do, however… I think I shall be fine."

But Arlo wasn't protected like she was and would be in more danger. She would much rather be spending her Sunday doing something other than investigating this. At the same time, though, it wasn't like she got an opportunity like this every day, and it would give her an interesting story to tell.

She followed the whispers, all of them insubstantial, toward the wealthier part of the cemetery, where the large above-ground mausoleums were located. Nothing seized her interest, though, as she and Arlo stood by each one.

"This place absolutely gives me the creeps," Arlo muttered, nudging her gently. She certainly agreed with him. They looked at each other, and he squeezed her hand. "At least you're here."

"At least," she agreed. To a medium, a graveyard held many interesting whispers. Most didn't have actual spirits, but their psychic energy still hung in the air.

Z'Hana came scuttling back. "Students, with me," she said. "The man over there gave me a tip. He says a popular hangout for students is at the edge of this section with the mausoleums. There are some older ones where students go to drink despite their best efforts to chase them away. He's been tending these graves for nearly forty years, so he should know."

Still holding Arlo's hand, Holly grimly followed Z'Hana, hoping that the churning feeling in her gut was just normal anxiety and nothing more.