Chapter 45

Alastair, Eloise, and Amaryllis returned the students to their Houses, trying their best to tune out the rumble of violence in the distance, and headed toward the faculty kitchens.

“I have something to tell you,” Sebastian blurted out as they made their way through the Main Hall. “For the headmaster’s ears only—at least for now. Sorry, Eloise.”

“Understood,” she said stiffly. “We’ll go down and get an update from the other teachers. Come on, Amaryllis.”

Amaryllis gave Alastair a side-eye before turning to follow Eloise out of the room.

Sebastian waited until they were fully out of earshot before he spoke again, “I’m not a Dark Mage. I’m not in any Night Coven, and I certainly wasn’t Summoning the undead. That boy of yours is out of line—”

“Is this really what you wanted to tell me? Because I already knew all of that.”

Sebastian looked around the room and got control of himself. “I wasn’t just visiting my mum tonight. In fact—I haven’t just been visiting her every time I’ve been out. That’s part of it. It’s how it started. But I’ve also been keeping tabs on Marcus Gold and his group. They all like me for some reason.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“They think I’m one of them.”

“A Dark Mage,” Alastair said.

Sebastian hesitated, but nodded. “Just like—”

“I get it, Sebastian. I bet the Shelley name doesn’t hurt, either.”

“No,” Sebastian said slowly. “I guess it doesn’t. For a while—over the summer and at the beginning of the year—they were pushing me to take over their operation—the Night Coven is real. I won’t lie and say I wasn’t considering it—”

“You told me as much when you met me at the train on my first day! It wasn’t subtle!”

“Right,” he said with a tone that conveyed an apology even if the words didn’t. “But I reconsidered. Gold and his crew—they kept sending me letters, kind of harassing me. Inviting me to events, dinners. It was flattering at first. I mean—my father didn’t want me to take over the business. And it’s not like Alchemy’s the most exciting subject to other people. It’s not Summoning or anything. So to have a bunch of people really pushing for me to be a part of something… the head of something—well, I’m sure you can see the appeal.”

“I suppose.”

Alastair considered how he’d felt when he’d been chosen as interim headmaster of Emberstone. It did feel good to be chosen. But this wasn’t a school of Dark Mages.

“And with my mum—you know—I’ve been back at the house more, and it’s not like Father’s happy to see me. Always calls me ‘the best teacher at Emberstone’ when his friends are over, but it’s because he’s embarrassed that I’m working here. He’s just trying to save face.”

“Sebastian,” Alastair said, “why are you working here? Surely you’d have had an easier time just working for the Shelleys.”

“No, I would not have. Besides, I told you. My father wouldn’t let me. He thought I was too much of a screw-up—I mean, things did get a little wild after graduation, so I get it.”

Once again, Alastair had no idea what to say. He would never have thought he’d feel bad for Sebastian Shelley, the raven-haired terror of Emberstone.

“And, well, this felt like a good option. I was always a fine hand at Alchemy. And I’m a good Alchemy teacher, I know that.”

“You’re a great Alchemy teacher,” Alastair admitted. “Better than anyone we had at Glimmerglass.”

“Eloise is great.”

Alastair had to keep his face straight. Eloise was great, but she didn’t teach Alchemy. And on top of it all, Alastair had trouble seeing her as anything more than a bossy little sister.

“She is great,” he said, “at Summoning.”

“Headmaster,” Sebastian said. And this time, there was no distaste in the way he said the title. “I hope we can be friends. I know I haven’t always been exactly warm, but bygones—”

A roar from the crowd outside interrupted him, and Alastair remembered what they were really supposed to be discussing.

“Wait,” he said, “what’s this about Marcus Gold?”

“Right. All of this is his fault.”

“All of—”

“The riots, the undead, all of it. He’s been quiet lately, but it’s not because he’s accepted you as headmaster. He’s given up. Realized you’re never going to work with him. They’re using Dark Magic to rile up the townspeople so they can shut down the school. You realize he owns the land where the Watermere Cemetery is, right?”

Alastair’s jaw hung open. “I—we just spent ten minutes talking about your family business, and you knew this the whole time?”

“Apologies. Got distracted.”

“So, they shut down the school and then what?”

“They put their guy in charge and re-open it under their leadership.”

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“Their guy meaning you?” Alastair asked, accusation in his tone.

“No!” Sebastian said. “They’ve given up on me too. I kept telling them I didn’t want it and eventually, they moved on. They don’t have a solid plan yet, I don’t think. They know it can’t be Marcus. It has to be someone the faculty would accept. Currently, they’re just sowing discord.”

“And doing a fine job of it.”

“The undead will be gone by morning, I think. They don’t want to totally destroy Watermere. Just get everyone afraid. If they can force enough parents to pull their students out or stop donating, the school won’t have enough money to continue operating.”

“And if they destroy the city in the process?”

Sebastian raised his hands helplessly. “I didn’t say it was a good plan. It’s just what they’re doing. They know I won’t fully join them. If you hear anything, Meade, please know that anything I’ve said against you was so they would tell me these things. I didn’t mean any of it.”

“Any of what?”

“I still attend their meetings. I don’t say much. But at times, I’ve expressed how ‘a goblin baby could do a better job at running the school.’” Sebastian looked embarrassed. Alastair went to respond, but got cut off, “I didn’t mean any of it. I swear. I think you’re doing a great job. Nothing I said would stop them, and I felt like a spy in the castle would best suit the needs of us all. You trust me, right?”

“We need to go to the faculty.” It was all Alastair could say.

Sebastian pursed his lips. “Good idea. I used to report to Ozelius, but—well.”

“You didn’t want to report to me.”

“I didn’t know you,” Sebastian admitted. “We didn’t exactly leave things on good terms. And well—at least at the start of the year—it seemed like we were going to pick up where we left off. Hostile. I didn’t know if I could trust you yet. You’ve been gone for a while, Meade. No one’s heard from you. And coming out of nowhere—I didn’t know what your loyalties were.”