“We need to look for clues,” I tell her, scanning the hall. “I’ll take the left wall, you take the right. If you notice anything that seems odd or out of place, let me know.”
Edith rolls her eyes. “Fine.”
I turn to the left wall, trying not to let her presence distract me. The corridor is long and fairly narrow. The walls, ceiling, and floor are all ancient, worn stone—
“Why were you following me, anyway?” Edith interrupts.
Annoyance flares through me. On hunts with Father, I’m accustomed to complete silence. I remain focused on my task, trying to ignore her so I can concentrate.
“Well?” Edith prompts.
“Because I can’t allow you out of my sight,” I say, hoping that will make her stop.
As I say the words, something gives me pause. Her panicked, wide eyes when she ran into me here. Those pink lips of hers parted in surprise… that wasn’t the expression of a hunter, but the hunted. She claimed something was chasing her. Was she taken aback that I caught her here, or could she have been telling the truth? Maybe therewassomeone else here.
I turn the question back on her and ask again, “What wereyoudoing here?”
“I heard this school was haunted,” Edith admits. “I came here hoping I could talk with Emilía directly.”
I examine the wall. “Didn’t you speak with her at the séance?”
Edith startles, turning to me with wide eyes. “What? You—”
“Won’t turn you in to Helga,” I say, cutting her off. “If I did, Nils would get in trouble too.” Her shoulders relax a little, until I add, “But I did hear Emilía say you killed her.”
“That’s the reason I came here, okay?” Edith drags her hands down her face. “I needed to ask her if she really meant that.”
“It seemed clear to me,” I point out.
“I really don’t think I did.” Edith fidgets, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “Whoever was chasing me, I thinktheywere the real killer.”
I guess it’s possible there was someone else here. Sometimes students will sneak out here to drink so they won’t get caught. Or engage in… other kinds of activities. I clear my throat, not letting my mind wander there, especially not where it involves Edith.
Some part of me wants to investigate her claim, to see if there’sanypossibility she might be innocent. I don’t want to believe I could be attracted to a killer, and I must admit that I’ve been attracted to Edith since the moment I met her. It’s hard to accept that my instincts about someone could be so wrong.
If they are, whatelsehave I been wrong about?
I scan the hall until I reach—“The portraits. They might be important.”
Edith joins me. “How so?”
I’m too aware of how close she is. “For starters, they’re the only things in the hall,” I point out, studying each portrait.
The earliest one belongs to Egill. Beside him are more portraits I don’t recognize. Seer students, I’m guessing. As I stare into their lifelike faces, I realize most—if not all—of them are probably dead now.
The thought chills me.
As I take a step, Egill’s eyes follow me.
That… isn’t possible.
His portrait was looking straight ahead moments ago. I know it was.
“Umm, did you just see that too?” Edith asks.
So it wasn’t just me? I pause. As I inspect the painting more closely, I remember what Father once told me: Egill’s spirit never left Skallagrim. Swallowing hard, I walk to the left, then back to the right. Egill’s gaze tracks my every movement.
Edith whimpers. “Could their spirits be trapped in these paintings or something?”
