A dark figure appeared in the path in front of me, and I instinctively cast the dazing spell. A part of me knew this couldn’t possibly be Culpepper, but I couldn’t help it. The instinct to defend myself was too far in control now. He’d gotten the jump on me once before, after all.
The spell left my fingers and hit the mark. The figure grunted and fell. As I ran past, I glanced down at the person’s upturned face. When I realized it was Mr. Marrow, I skidded to a stop and spun around, heart in throat.
I knelt beside him, panting. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Are you all right? I didn’t mean to, I was scared and—”
“Be quiet,” said Marrow.
I shut up, my stomach doing backflips. I’d been in trouble before, but never like this. I attacked a teacher! I stood and stepped away from him, deciding distance was best here.
But the anger I heard in Marrow’s voice was gone when he sat up a moment later and said, “That was some impressive spell work, Dusty, if a little uncalled for.” He rubbed his chest where the spell had struck.
“I didn’t mean to hit you. I don’t know why but The Will—”
“Doesn’t work as effectively on Nightmares as it does on other kinds,” interrupted Marrow as he pushed himself to his feet. He ran his hands over the back of his brown slacks, wiping away the dirt.
I gaped at him, trying to decide if he was serious. “But … why?”
He shook his head. “Not now and not here.” Marrow’s gaze took in my disheveled appearance. “Where have you been the last few hours? Half the school is out looking for you.”
“They are?” I finally remembered the notebook in my hands. I glanced down at it. The word ledger was written across the front in raised letters. That was odd. I opened it and saw the pages were full of numbers and abbreviations. This wasn’t a secret diary at all. It was probably some official record of maintenance parts.
And I’d stolen it.
“Indeed,” Marrow said, drawing my attention back to him. “Selene in particular was most distraught when you didn’t show up for class.”
I looked up at my teacher, tongue-tied and smarting with guilt. I hadn’t considered how Selene would react to my disappearance. This whole thing was nothing but a stupid, selfish, pointless stunt. Somebody get me the dunce cap.
The sound of footsteps pounding pavement distracted me from my self-berating. Marrow and I both turned to see Culpepper running toward us. The Metus demon slowed when he spotted Mr. Marrow, but the teacher’s presence did nothing to quell his anger. His eyes, still glowing that livid green, were fixed on the ledger in my hands.
He stopped a few feet away and said between pants, “This girl stole from me, sir. That book is mine. I want it back.”
Marrow raised a hand, silencing him. Then he addressed me. “Let me see it, Dusty.”
I handed it over. Marrow opened to some random section and examined the numbers filling the lined page. I took a second look myself, trying not to be obvious about it. Now that my initial shock at my blunder was wearing off, I wondered why Culpepper would be so upset about the theft of a ledger—assuming it was being used for legitimate reasons. What if it wasn’t? What if Culpepper was cooking the books, as they say? Or maybe he was running some kind of business on the side.
Marrow closed the ledger and looked at Culpepper.
“She’s been spying on me, sir,” Culpepper said, now sounding more sullen than angry. He had a broad face with a pointy nose. He wore his hair too short to determine the color, but his eyebrows were blond.
“I see,” said Marrow.
“And she used spells on me. Illegal ones.”
Marrow raised an eyebrow at him. “Illegal, you say?”
“Yes, sir. And I mean to press charges.”
Marrow’s brow rose even higher then fell. “Are you sure you want to do that given your recent trouble? I’m certain Sheriff Brackenberry will be most curious as to why you were chasing a student in the first place.”
Culpepper paled and shook his head. “No, sir, I don’t want that.”
“Yes, I thought so.”
Culpepper pointed a finger at me. “I won’t press charges, but you need to mind your own business and leave me alone.”
Like hell I will. If anything, I was even more interested in what he was up to. Innocent people didn’t behave so shadily.
“I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” said Marrow, handing the ledger back to Culpepper. “I suggest you move along quickly. The sheriff is on campus tonight.”
Culpepper didn’t need any more encouragement. With a final glare at me, he stalked off the way he’d come.
“I think it’s past time we talked, Dusty,” said Marrow. “Would you mind coming to my office?”
“Okay.” I tried not to sound reluctant, but probably failed. I was sweaty and exhausted and well aware that I was still in trouble.
I followed him into Monmouth Tower and up the winding staircase to his office on the third floor. He unlocked it and led me inside. A large desk occupied most of the room, its surface cluttered with books, sheets of paper, and various writing instruments. Shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, filled with more books and an odd assortment of objects. An antique spyglass stood atop a wooden stand with a compass set beside it. The needle on the compass was spinning around as fast as a plane propeller. I wondered what it was supposed to point to, guessing it wasn’t north. One entire column of shelves was devoted to jars full of the herbs and chemicals used in alchemy.