“Well, you know witches,” I say, absently plucking some damp sage with my fingers, releasing the scent into the air.“It’s a woman’s world.Male witches seem to be in short supply.”
“It’s probably for the best,” he concedes.“I have a feeling this institute would be chaos if male witches were in charge.You know how Jeremias would run it.”
Jeremias is a dark mage, a male witch who has done some questionable things with his powers, according to the rumors.But at this point anyone would be better than the sisters.
Then, as if I conjured her up from my own thoughts, I hear a voice call out.
“Ichabod Crane?”
I turn around to see Leona Van Tassel come out of the mist, hood up, face in shadow, cloaks floating around her like black ink.
“Sounds like you’re in trouble,” Daniels says under his breath.He seems like he’s joking but from the uneasy look in his eyes and the way he quickly nods at Leona and hurries away, I don’t think he is.
“Ah,” Leona says, lowering back her hood, her all-seeing eyes following Daniels as he scurries off.“I’m starting to get the feeling that Mr.Daniels is afraid of me.”Then she turns her sharp eyes to me.“But not you, Ichabod.You seem able to handle all sorts of things.”
I don’t want to ask what she means byall sorts of things.
I lift my chin as I peer down at her.“You know I can.”
She gives me a tight, fleeting smile, not intimidated by me in the slightest.I could be seven feet tall like the horseman and it wouldn’t matter to a witch like her because no matter what, her magic will always be stronger than mine.
For now, at least.
Her thin brows come together as she studies me with a discerning eye.
“You’ve learned something new,” she says warily.
“And what’s that?”
“You’ve learned to block your thoughts,” she says, tapping the side of her graying temple.
Now my smile is genuine.“Yes.A vampire once taught me how to do that.I just didn’t think I would need to use it with anyone.”She’s been reading my thoughts ever since the day she stalked me outside the opium joint.
“Vampire,” she says sourly.“I’m surprised you were able to get close to one.”
“Oh, I think I’d be able to surprise you with a lot of things,” I tell her, an edge coming to my voice.I clasp my hands behind my back.“Now, I can tell you have something on your mind.”
“I do,” she says.“A lot, as it is.Will you accompany me to my office?”
Hmm.Perhaps Daniels was right about me being in trouble.
But I have no choice but to follow.I don’t think telling her I need herbs for a student I shot last night would be a good idea.Besides, now I want to know what’s on her mind, though I worry that Leona might distract me from Kat when she might need me.
She turns and gestures back to the cathedral.The mist is obscuring most of it, making the sharp spires look like nails suspended in air.
We walk down the path and I let the sage drift down from my fingers as I go.
I haven’t been inside the cathedral other than the first day I arrived at school and even then I was in Sister Margaret’s office.The only time I was in the cathedral itself was for the initiation tests, of which I still remember very little.
But here Leona leads me straight through the gargantuan iron doors, which swing open for us with a heavy creak, aidedonly by magic, and she takes me past the glass display cases that showcase crystals, gemstones, and esoteric relics, past the first few offices and into the cathedral proper.
Memories of the tests come back, falling on me like snow.Or perhaps like ash.I remember all the candles being lit, flickering like a rapid heartbeat and throwing soot into the air.The statues that I see now that line the edges of the space seemed bigger back then.I remember thinking they had eyes, though now they’re just blank and still.The stained-glass windows threw a multitude of colors on the stone floor, even though my test took place at night.Right now the colors are muted from the fog.
“I’m assuming you’re remembering some of the tests,” she says, glancing at me over her shoulder as we walk down the center of the aisle.On either side of us are a few rows of church pews and then it opens up to big empty space.My footsteps echo loudly as we walk, but hers don’t seem to make a sound at all.
It’s damp in here and I can’t help but shiver underneath my wool coat, as if it’s colder than outside, and it smells like hot wax and incense and damp earth.
Finally we approach the altar made of bones, with feathers and candles and chicken feet spread across a wooden slab, and she beckons with her finger for me to follow her even though I don’t know where we could possibly go.
