Even one that made him feel as if he would find it painful when she died.
Yet Asa lingered awhile, watching her anyway.
He was still in a good mood the next morning as he walked through the halls of Rodman High; even the sight of Elizabeth falling into step beside him couldn’t dim his smile. “Don’t tell me,” he said. “You just can’t wait to watch a documentary on Albert Einstein.”
“You know I have my reasons for coming here. How goes your task?”
“Let’s see.” Asa nodded toward the far end of the hall, where Nadia, Mateo, and Verlaine were all walking in.
They must have met up outside. Maybe they even came to school together. But even though the three of them walked side by side, even though they were smiling at one another, Asa could tell—there was a bit of a chill in the air that had nothing to do with autumn. Mateo didn’t have his arm around Nadia. Nadia couldn’t quite meet Verlaine’s eyes. And Verlaine crossed her arms and scowled at both Asa and Elizabeth as the two groups passed.
“The suspicion is still subtle,” Elizabeth said. “They doubt themselves more than one another. But I can see that the seeds have been planted. What next, beast?”
“Watch and wait.” He imagined the elm trees that grew all over town, many of them so old they had pushed up the sidewalks in front of them and broken the paving stones into half a dozen planes and angles. The smallest seed could cause incredible damage, given time and the right conditions to grow.
She asked, “What did you tell them?”
“The most dangerous thing of all. The truth.”
I laid out three possible ways to destroy you. Any one of them might work. All I have to do is hope at least one of them sees it. The faster they’re driven apart, the faster they can stop focusing on one another and go after you. Your work and your undoing, and I managed it in just one night. You’ll be sorry you called me beast soon enough.
Asa glanced over his shoulder at them once more. Really he should have been watching all three of them for signs of discord. Instead he only had eyes for the way Verlaine’s long, silver hair flowed down her back.
Quietly he repeated, “Everything I said was true.”
13
ON THE LIBRARY’S TV SCREEN, BLACK-AND-WHITE IMAGES of Albert Einstein flickered. The overhead lights were out. That meant Mateo’s phone glowed too brightly—but since not even the substitute cared about what “chemistry class” was up to, that worked just fine.
“It’s Latin,” Nadia whispered as she squinted down at the picture on Mateo’s phone. “At least, I think so. I’ve never studied it.”
“Does Google Translate do Latin?” Mateo asked.
“I’ll check and see.” Nadia got to work on her own phone. “Even at full magnification, the words are kind of blurry. It would be better to see the real thing.”
“Oh, yeah, I can see it now. ‘Hi, I’m the unstable guy who brought a knife to school!’ Let’s not go there.”
She put her hand on Mateo’s arm; the pain behind that joke was all too clear. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s okay. You should see it. Just—after school, you know?”
Still, he looked shaken and tired. Nadia rubbed his arm more gently, leaned close enough to whisper in his ear. “Was it rough? Dealing with your grandmother? I know how hard that is for you.”
Mateo took a deep breath. “She wasn’t as bad as usual,” he said. “Which means she was awful. But maybe twenty percent less vindictive?”
“I say we call it a win.”
He grinned, then pointed at her phone screen. “We have a translation. Okay, according to the internet, this Latin script means something like ‘the road has three sections.’”
They met each other’s eyes in mutual bafflement. Nadia said, “I was expecting something more ominous.”
“It sounds more like directions from your GPS. ‘In three hundred yards, turn left at the fortress of doom.’”
She only barely managed to hold back a laugh. “Maybe the internet translation is wrong?”
“Probably. Do we know anybody who speaks Latin? My priest, maybe—”
“Excuse me?” One of the hall monitors stood in the doorway and spoke to their substitute. “I’m supposed to bring Nadia Caldani to Ms. Walsh’s office. I’ve got a note.”
Nadia had been dodging Ms. Walsh and ignoring her emails ever since the incident at the town hall meeting. Of course, the emails had been just vague enough for her to feasibly not answer—maybe we should talk, etc. But apparently Ms. Walsh could only be put off so long.
Mateo mouthed, What’s up?
Ms. Walsh, she mouthed back. Even Mateo couldn’t understand the fear every witch felt when there was a danger her secret had been inadvertently discovered.
She sighed and went with the hall monitor.
On the way, Nadia tried to remain calm. There was almost no chance that Ms. Walsh suspected her of witchcraft. After all, she could only know about witchcraft if she were a witch herself, and if she were, Nadia would have seen evidence of it by now. Wouldn’t she? For a moment she doubted herself, but she knew the odds as well as anyone. There were very few witches in the world, and while there had been a coven in Captive’s Sound, Elizabeth had apparently driven the coven deep underground.
Okay, this won’t be about witchcraft, Nadia thought. Then what?
Probably it was about her mother leaving, or college applications, or something similarly depressing. It was all Nadia could do not to groan as she walked into the main office.
Ms. Walsh had the smaller office, nearest the door, but the principal and assistant principal both had their offices in this same area. Different sports and drama schedules were posted all around, and a few other people milled around the waiting area—including someone who wasn’t a student.
“Well, look who’s here.” Verlaine’s uncle Gary opened his arms for a hug, like they’d been friends forever; Nadia hugged him back. Even though they’d only met a handful of times, one of those times had been when Verlaine was in the hospital and they were both scared to death; people got closer at moments like that. He had a broad smile outlined by a short, crisply trimmed beard; between that, his belly, and his usual good cheer, it was easy to imagine him playing Santa for little kids. “I know they can’t have brought you in for detention. Never. Never ever ever.”
Despite her tension, Nadia had to laugh. “Just meeting with the guidance counselor.”
“It’s that time of the year, isn’t it? Verlaine keeps rewriting her Yale essay—four times so far, I swear. I thought it was perfect the first time. Didn’t you?”
Nadia hadn’t even realized Verlaine wanted to go to Yale, or that her test scores might make that a possibility. Verlaine had never even shown her the essay, because she didn’t believe Nadia could care. “I’ll ask her if I can look at it. Maybe she just needs a fresh pair of eyes. You know?”
“Some perspective. Yes. Exactly.”
“I guess you probably need to talk to Ms. Walsh, too.” Nadia’s hopes rose. “It’s fine with me if you go first.”
“Oh, no. Just dropping this off.” He held up a brown bag and a Hello Kitty thermos Nadia recognized. “Verlaine forgot her lunch, and I know she calls the cafeteria the Hall of Trans Fats.”