Alexandra Quick and the Deathly Regiment

Deathly Conjures

Alexandra didn't mention the book to Anna, nor her conversation with Darla.

This bothered her for the next week. She read from Deathly Conjures only when she was alone, ducking into empty classrooms, hidden alcoves, or secluded corners of the library. But hiding this from Anna made her feel like they were back to the way they had been before.

She wasn't sure where they were now.

While Alexandra pondered her earlier promise, Anna continued to listen to the news every day, with a mixture of hope and dread.

On Monday morning, a week and a day after the Sweetheart's Dance, there was a notice on the eighth grade bulletin board summoning Anna to the Dean's office.

"I'm sure you're not in trouble," Alexandra said, as Anna turned pale.

Anna's hands went to her mouth. "What if --?" She swallowed. "What if something has happened to my father, or my mother...?"

Constance and Forbearance both placed their hands on Anna's shoulders.

"It hain't nothin' like that," Constance said softly.

"Can't be," Forbearance said.

Alexandra wanted to shout at them: Don't tell her it can't be bad news when it can! But she didn't. She just put an arm around Anna's shoulders.

Anna asked, in a very small voice, "Will you go with me, Alex?"

"Of course." Alexandra looked at the Pritchards, and gestured for them to follow. They nodded.

The four of them made their uncertain way to the administrative offices, and Anna was practically shaking by the time they stood in front of the portrait of Miss Marmsley, with Constance and Forbearance lingering back in the hallway.

The secretary looked down at them. "Only Miss Chu was summoned, Miss Quick." Then she paused. "Wait here."

She rose from the painted desk where she sat, and stepped out of her portrait. A moment later, she stepped back into her frame.

"Dean Grimm says you may both go on in," she said.

They glanced back at Constance and Forbearance, who smiled reassuringly, and then Alexandra took Anna's hand, and the two of them walked down the hall to the Dean's office. Anna surprised Alexandra by reaching for the doorknob and opening it herself. They entered and found Ms. Grimm sitting behind her desk, wearing a long-sleeved blouse.

"Miss Chu." The Dean's eyes fell on Alexandra for a moment, then went back to Anna. She pulled a slip of parchment to the center of her desk before her. "My sister just informed me that your father has been released from the Mount Diablo prison."

Anna gasped, and then swayed a little on her feet, until Alexandra squeezed her hand.

"Is it really true?" Anna asked breathlessly.

"I do not believe my sister is either misinformed or lying to me," Ms. Grimm said, with a slight edge in her voice. But Anna didn't seem to notice; she turned to Alexandra, wrapped her arms around her, and began crying.

Relieved and embarrassed, Alexandra held her friend and patted her on the back.

"Thank you, ma'am," she said to Ms. Grimm.

The Dean nodded. "The Governor of North California will be formally announcing Mr. Chu's release shortly, framed in an appropriate political context, no doubt, but I thought Miss Chu would want to know immediately."

"Thank you," Anna mumbled, almost inaudibly.

"I confess there is one small matter that I have put off dealing with, as it seemed moot while Mr. Chu was incarcerated," Ms. Grimm said.

Anna sniffled, and looked at the Dean, puzzled.

"Your father sent a letter to me in July," Ms. Grimm said, "informing me that you were either to be assigned a new roommate, or you would not be returning to Charmbridge. But since you did, in fact, arrive at Charmbridge, and I received no further demands, I thought it best to... let the matter lie. However, I'm afraid I cannot ignore it now -- he is entitled to withdraw you if I do not comply with his request."

Anna blinked quickly, wiped her eyes, and looked at Alexandra, who looked back at her impassively but for a small smile.

"If you have to change roommates..." Alexandra said softly.

Anna said, "I don't want to change roommates!" She looked down. "Unless you do."

Alexandra felt her eyes blur for a moment. "No. But your father --"

Anna shook her head vehemently, and turned to the Dean.

"Please don't move me or Alexandra, ma'am." She took a deep breath. "If my father doesn't like it, he'll just have to come get me."

Alexandra felt another wave of emotion that she forced away before it showed on her face, while Ms. Grimm raised one eyebrow, and then allowed a slight smile.

"He can send for you, of course." She pushed away the parchment on her desk. "But so be it. Should I receive any inquiries from him, I will inform him that I will not be allowing any room reassignments at this point in the school year."

Anna nodded, with her eyes on the floor in front of the Dean's desk.

"I assume he will be in touch with you directly soon," Ms. Grimm said, "if he doesn't come here personally. But you might wish to send him an owl first."

"Yes, ma'am," Anna said in a small voice. She seemed to have spent her courage for the moment.

"Well, I'm sure this is a great relief to you, Miss Chu, and that you will now better be able to concentrate on your studies. You may go, both of you."

"Yes, ma'am," Alexandra and Anna answered together. They walked out of the Dean's office, past Miss Marmsley's portrait, and out into the hallway, where Constance and Forbearance were waiting. The Ozarkers let out joyous exclamations and embraced Anna when she told them the news, and the four of them went to breakfast in such a happy mood that Alexandra actually smiled at the Rash twins when they gave the girls puzzled looks.

In their room that night, Anna wrote a letter to her father, constantly talking to both Alexandra and Jingwei, who was sitting on her desk waiting for Anna to finish writing.

"I do want to see him," Anna said. "And my mother." She looked at the two photographs still hanging on the wall above her desk. "Maybe he'd let me come home for a week... but he'll probably insist I don't interrupt my studies, even after this."

Alexandra nodded.

"But I've been so worried about him! And I miss them both so much!" Anna sniffed, and wiped at her eyes.

"I'm sure your grades won't suffer if you go home for a few days," Alexandra said.

"But what if my father does say I can't be your roommate anymore!" Anna stared at her letter anxiously. "He told me I have to stay away from you!"

"It'll be okay, Anna --"

"He can't make me leave! He just can't!"

I'm pretty sure he can, Alexandra thought, but she patted Anna on the shoulder. "It will be all right. And if getting a new roommate will make him happy --"

"No!" Anna shook her head. "I won't let him do that. I'm not going to pretend we're not friends." She swallowed, and her voice trembled. "I won't betray you again."

Alexandra stared at her, as Anna hastily rolled up her letter and tied it to Jingwei's leg. "They'll be back in San Francisco, now," she told her owl, "so don't go to my grandparents' house."

Jingwei hooted, and stretching her great wings, took off.

"My mother says my grandmother tried to hit Jingwei with a broom," Anna said, watching the owl soar off into the night.

"I'm sure she'll be happy she's not going back there, then."

Anna turned, to find Alexandra still staring at her.

"I need to show you something," Alexandra said. "It's probably nothing. I mean, it's just an old book, probably a bunch of BS."

Anna looked confused.

Alexandra reached into her backpack, and pulled out the black book Darla had given her.

Anna's expression became wary. "This is about Max, isn't it?" she said softly.

Alexandra nodded.

"And I suppose if I tell you that this book is bad news and you should throw it away...?"

Alexandra looked down at the book. "I'm trusting you, Anna."

Anna swallowed, then said, "Let me see it."

They spent that evening poring over Deathly Conjures, with Anna growing increasingly perturbed.

"This stuff is way over my head -- and yours, too," she said. "But this is necromancy, Alexandra! It's Dark Arts!"

"There's nothing here about cursing people." At least, they had yet to find any curses that were called that. But there were many pages devoted to the calling, commanding, and banishing of spirits, and -- in the section that most interested Alexandra and frightened Anna -- 'Treating with Deathly Powers.' The page full of whispering darkness was there. Alexandra flipped past it quickly.

"This is the kind of book that could get you expelled," Anna said.

"Then I guess I'll have to hope nobody else finds out about it."

Anna flinched and looked down. Alexandra put a hand on her shoulder, and said, more gently, "I'm not going to do anything Dark, Anna."

"What you want to do, even if it's possible -- there's no way that isn't Dark magic." Anna stared at the black book. "You still haven't told me where you got it."

"Please don't ask me."

Anna didn't like that answer, but she was unwilling to force the issue. "What are you going to do with it?"

"I'm going to study it and hope I learn something."

Anna's worried expression was a familiar one.

"I won't do anything without telling you," Alexandra said. "Does that make you feel better?"

"A little." Anna looked down. "I wouldn't blame you if you didn't tell me anything."

Alexandra sighed. "I'm not still angry at you, Anna."

"I know."

"I'm trying not to keep secrets..."

"I know." Anna looked as if she might start to cry. "I don't deserve to be trusted."

"Stop." Alexandra set down the book, and put her arms around her friend. "Not again. We've both screwed up a lot, okay?"

Anna nodded. She seemed willing to keep standing there with Alexandra holding her, but Alexandra let her go and said, "Let's go eat."

Before going to the cafeteria, she carefully put the book back in her backpack.

---

Anna didn't like seeing the black book, so Alexandra continued seeking out quiet corners of the school where she could read uninterrupted. Sometimes she risked reading it in class, tucking it inside a larger book. In the library, she found other old books from the same time period, and ancient dictionaries to help her with the archaic words and spellings. She spent every spare moment she could find poring over it, to the detriment of her schoolwork.

Occasionally, she saw Darla watching her, but Alexandra didn't think Darla would be any help -- what could she do, without a wand? And anyway, Alexandra was clearly better than her -- if Darla had thought she might accomplish anything with the book, she wouldn't have given it away.

Deathly Conjures was dry and opaque, but the author was refreshingly unopinionated. Alexandra had read other old wizarding books and found that most wizards were like Simon Grayson -- they couldn't just explain anything, they had to rant and go off on tangents about Mohammedan mages or goblins or Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. "Hermes Trismegistus" (this was the name printed on Deathly Conjures' title page, but Alexandra already knew that that was a pseudonym many wizards had used since medieval times) just wrote about ghosts and death. It was fascinating. Also very difficult to read. Alexandra wished she had a modern English translation.

The magic was explained with charts, symbols, references to other books which the author assumed the reader would be familiar with, and equally obscure terms. Where wands and incantations were mentioned at all, it was left to the reader to infer exactly what words and gestures were to be used in the rituals described. Alexandra wasn't sure whether that was because the author assumed the reader would know, or whether it meant she had to make up her own. It was clear that none of these spells were the sort of standardized, repeatable charms they were taught in class. There was a lot of talk of 'working one's Will' and doing things 'by that magic which is Yours.'

There were two things the book was very clear on: wizards could summon ghosts, and a wizard with sufficient Will could go Through the Veil, but only if the Way were Shown and He be Guided by an Uncoerced Spirit, unless he Bound Most Thoroughly One Unwilling, and to Return was Uncertain But that he had Been Released By Death. (After an hour of squinting at the archaic inked letters each night, Alexandra's eyes began to blur and she began to Think In Capitals with Many Unclear Turns of Phrase Causing her Head to Ache.)

Alexandra could tell that Anna was biting her tongue, but she didn't say anything about Alexandra's renewed obsession.

Anna received a letter from her father two days after his release, assuring her that he was unharmed and that he had taken Anna's mother back to their home in Little Wuyi, and that it was his wish that she continue her studies until he saw her over the spring break.

"The spring break!" Anna exclaimed. "I get to go home for the spring break!" Alexandra smiled as Anna practically bounced out of the room.

Mr. Chu said nothing about Alexandra in that letter, but Jingwei returned several days after that. Anna was much more nervous opening this letter. She read it while holding her breath.

When she looked up at Alexandra, she seemed a little bit relieved. "He said we'll talk about it over the break."

"'It' meaning me?" Alexandra asked.

Anna nodded.

"Sounds like he wants to tell you in person that you have to stop being friends with me." Alexandra knew that Anna would have a much harder time arguing with her father face-to-face.

Anna bit her lip. "You trust Constance and Forbearance not to stop being your friend, don't you?"

Alexandra nodded. "Yes." She didn't add that it would be more difficult for Anna to remain her friend from two thousand miles away, if her father pulled her out of school.

"If he were just going to tell me I can't return to Charmbridge..." Anna's eyes misted up a little. "I don't think he'll do that."

"If he does, we'll still have owls -- and email."

A poor substitute for being roommates. They both knew that. But Anna smiled uncertainly and nodded.

The release of Geming Chu from Mount Diablo quieted some of the unrest in the California Territories, but Anna's father was no sooner out of prison than he resumed his campaign for the Wizards' Congress, now with the added cachet of having been a 'political prisoner.' The Governor of North California had announced a new date for the election: the week after Charmbridge's spring break.

Anna began following his campaign quite closely, listening to the Confederation News Network in the rec room and borrowing Alexandra's copies of the Chicago Wizard Times.

"Even the Majokai would vote for him now, I think," Anna said. "If Majokai voted."

The end of February brought more news besides the resurgence of Mr. Chu's campaign. Some Territories were using the WODAMND Act to deal more harshly with suspected Dark Wizards. There were arrests; ranging from teenagers to government bureaucrats and even a Regimental officer, all accused of practicing Dark Arts or collaborating with the Dark Convention.

Alexandra wondered how many of them had been her father's friends, and how many more were political troublemakers like Mr. Chu. While she was not fully engaged with the politics going on in the outside world, it seemed to her that the Wizard Justice Department wasn't doing a very good job of assuring the public that they were winning the War on Dark Arts.

She felt the repercussions at Charmbridge, too. The hexing and harassment she'd experienced all year intensified. This ranged from petty pranks, like sticking her books to her desk with a Glue Charm, to being hexed in the back in hallways. When she narrowly avoided getting Bubotuber Pus in the face after opening her JROC locker, Ms. Shirtliffe drilled the entire JROC to exhaustion for the next week, citing various misbehavior and acts of vandalism, though everyone knew what the real reason was.

When Alexandra complained about being included in the collective punishment, Ms. Shirtliffe asked her, "Would you prefer that I punish everyone except you?"

Alexandra frowned, imagining herself standing at ease off to the side while everyone else did broom and wand drills. "No, ma'am."

"Be careful, Quick. I'm afraid your father hasn't done you any favors."

"No, ma'am. He never has." Alexandra saluted, and endured the week's grueling training without further complaint.

She was beginning to feel like the entire school was out to get her. It did nothing to improve her attitude. She avoided getting into any more fights mostly by keeping to herself when she wasn't with her friends -- and as she spent more and more time sequestered in the library or secluded corners of the academy with her black book, her friends saw her less often in the rec room.

While Deathly Conjures had been almost incomprehensible at first, Alexandra was beginning to decipher the language of the pseudonymous H.T. The more she read, the more she was able to understand, even while deeper meanings continued to elude her. Darla had circled a few passages and scribbled notes on pages; Alexandra saw that the other girl had been most interested in the section on Treating with the Most Deathly Power. There was an entire page on 'ghost coins,' which H.T. explained was a vulgar term because they were actually 'Tokens of Life' and of no use to ghosts.

'Obols for this?' Darla had written in the margin.

'Only with a Deathly conveyance to travel and a Deathly spirit to guide you may you embark upon your Katabasis and return,' wrote the author of the black book. According to Bran and Poe, no one returned from the Lands Beyond. But H.T. said there were Beings who traveled the Road Between Life and Death like Spirits... Alexandra sighed and leaned forward, resting her forehead on the table in front of her. She had a headache again.

How did she find a beast or spirit that could guide her? Charlie had found the way across the Lands Below, bringing her back the bone flute from the Generous Ones. Could the raven lead her through the Lands Beyond as well? And what about a spirit? Did she treat with one, or command it? Commanding ghosts had to be wrong -- there was a reason why necromancy was a Dark Art.

But what if she needed a ghost? What if Maximilian was a ghost? She thought once more about the ghost in the basement -- the one that Ms. Fletcher thought was still down there.

Since Ms. Gale's death (which they were still calling an 'accident'), they had resumed using the basement for approved activities, but there were more portraits and Colloportus spells keeping students out of the basement after school hours. Alexandra needed an excuse to be down in the basement again.

She needed to be assigned detention.

---

"Will you come to the rec room next Monday?" Anna asked her, several weeks later.

They were studying for a Potions test. Outside of meals and study periods, Alexandra had been spending little time with her friends, even Anna. She hid a grimace. She felt guilty, but she was so close to being ready to attempting a summoning. There was only so much she could learn just by studying the black book. Pretty soon, she was going to have to actually try to do something.

"I don't know," she mumbled. "We have Mrs. Middle's midterm that week..."

"That's not what you're studying."

Alexandra looked up, as Anna sighed. "I know you can't let go of this," Anna said, "but you're back to your old habits -- avoiding your friends, spending all your time planning something in secret..."

"It's not secret," Alexandra said quietly. "You know what I'm trying to do."

Anna regarded her solemnly. "Are you planning to do it Monday?"

Alexandra rolled her eyes. "No, of course not."

"You do realize Monday is your birthday?"

Alexandra blinked in surprise. She had been so immersed in deciphering archaic spell formulas and deathly wizarding mythology, she had hardly been paying attention to the date.

"You're barely passing half your classes, but you're studying this old book so much that you almost forgot your own birthday," Anna said. "Alex, it's not... healthy, what you're doing."

"Don't start that again, Anna." Alexandra looked at Anna, and felt guilty. Anna was even more loathe to question her now than before; she knew her friend had to be seriously concerned to raise the issue again. "I'm doing my homework --"

Anna coughed. She hadn't exactly done any of Alexandra's homework for her, but she'd done enough work checking and correcting it that she might as well have, for some of her assignments.

"-- and I'll be there Monday, for my birthday party." Alexandra smiled at Anna. "Thanks."

Anna smiled weakly. "I know you think I worry too much."

"I'm not actually doing any necromancy, Anna."

Not yet.

Alexandra tried to spend more time with Anna and her other friends over the next week. Even as she put in extra hours in the library writing Alchemy essays and practicing Revealing Charms with Anna in their room, Alexandra was contemplating the week of spring break. Anna would be gone, along with many other students, which meant fewer students in detention and fewer people around to note her comings and goings.

On March 22^nd, the morning of Alexandra's birthday, she received two owls.

The first was from Julia. It contained a birthday card with engraved lettering on the front. When Alexandra opened it, it began singing "Happy Birthday" in a loud soprano voice. Alexandra gave Anna an embarrassed look, grateful that she hadn't waited until she reached the cafeteria to read it.

Enclosed with the card were pictures of Alexandra and Maximilian at the previous year's Roanoke Spring Cotillion. Alexandra stared at the photographs; she hadn't even realized that anyone had captured her on camera, but there she was, in her yellow robe that had left her shoulders and ankles bare, dancing with a Muggle-born boy from a local day school. And there was Maximilian, dressed handsomely in his formal BMI uniform. Even in the wizard photograph, Alexandra could see the BMI stormcrow on his jacket rippling and flexing its talons.

Julia had also enclosed a gift certificate for a Bath and Body Charms shop. Her sister's letter was a little more cheerful than her last one, but when Julia admitted that she was experiencing 'some rude people' at the Salem Witches' Institute, Alexandra knew that meant that Julia was being harassed, too.

Alexandra sighed. She's probably hiding how bad it is.

Julia ended her letter with the news that Beatrice and Martin would be graduating from the Blacksburg Magery Institute in June, and that they had invited both Julia and Alexandra to attend. Ms. King was once again willing to pay for a Portkey trip for Alexandra, and had suggested Alexandra stay at Croatoa for the first part of the summer.

"Only, however, if your mother agrees -- and Mother was very clear that she intends to speak to your mother personally beforehand. You will be quite proud of me, Alexandra -- I have been taking Muggle Studies this semester so that I can learn how to use a telephone!"

Alexandra wasn't sure what she thought about being forgiven and invited back to Croatoa. Would she have anything to show for all of her efforts this year, other than more trouble she'd brought upon herself and the Kings?

"You look pretty," said Anna, who was looking at the pictures on Alexandra's desk.

"Julia made me wear a dress." She gave her smiling friend a mock glare.

"It's a formal robe," Anna said, cheek twitching.

The second owl that arrived that morning was from her mother. Not directly from her mother, Alexandra knew -- her mother sent mail addressed to Charmbridge Academy, and somehow the Owl Post picked it up.

She expected money -- her usual birthday present -- and was surprised to find that the birthday card her mother had sent also contained a photograph.

Alexandra looked at it, and then sat there, staring.

It wasn't a wizard photograph. It was a Polaroid picture, on thick paper, the kind that came out of one of those old non-digital cameras. It was so old that it had started to yellow, but Alexandra still recognized the smiling man standing in front of what looked very much like a Muggle brick home. It was her father.

In this Muggle photograph, Abraham Thorn had shorter hair without the gray streaks Alexandra was used to seeing. His beard and mustache were still there, but they were much shorter, and his face was less wrinkled. He was wearing robes and a dark, heavy cloak, which made him look all the more incongruous standing on a concrete driveway. He was smiling at the camera, but his smile was frozen, so Alexandra couldn't even guess what he was feeling.

It was like a mysterious little time capsule. There was no date on the photograph. Alexandra looked at the letter accompanying it.

"This is the only photograph I have of your father," Claudia had written. "I'm sorry I never showed it to you before. I think you deserve to have it."

Along with that was an American Express gift card. Alexandra smiled. She didn't really mind that her parents sent her money for a birthday present, and having a credit card that she could use at any store she liked made her feel very grown up.

She glanced at Anna, who was still waiting to go down to breakfast. "Sorry."

Anna shook her head, with a small smile, and let Alexandra put away the letters and gifts.

Downstairs, Alexandra was unsurprised to find Dean Grimm standing in front of the cafeteria during one of her periodic walks through the hallways. It made for a quieter morning than usual, as the normal loud chatter of students was quelled by her presence; all most students dared to say was, "Good morning, Ms. Grimm," as they passed by.

She's holding her cat again, Alexandra thought. And as she nodded silently to the Dean, Ms. Grimm said, "Happy birthday, Miss Quick. Fourteen already -- my goodness."

Alexandra stopped. Anna stopped with her. Anna used to tremble in the Dean's presence; now she merely looked down and bit her lip nervously.

"Do you remember everyone's birthday?" Alexandra asked. And added a hasty, "Ma'am," when the Dean's eyes narrowed.

"Yes, I do," Ms. Grimm replied. "With the help of Miss Marmsley."

Alexandra eyed Galen, who as usual was lolling comfortably in the Dean's arms with one eye open as Ms. Grimm scratched behind the cat's ears.

"Don't block the corridor, Miss Quick." Ms. Grimm nodded to her, and Alexandra mumbled an inaudible good-bye and continued on into the cafeteria.

Alexandra's party was like her previous birthdays at Charmbridge -- more fuss than she was used to, even if it was a very small gathering. Constance and Forbearance had once again enticed the elves to prepare a Jubilation Cake -- Alexandra knew better than to try to blow out the candles this time.

She was touched by the attention. The presence of her friends warmed her heart, and for a little while, she forgot about the black book. But now and then, she would look at the couch where Maximilian had sat with Beatrice and Martin the previous year.

Why was it so easy to forget that Max was dead? It seemed as if it were becoming easier as time went by. And she was so tired of trying to figure out how to do magic she barely understood to accomplish something everyone said was impossible. She imagined how happy Anna would be if she threw away the black book. It would be nice to have all of her friends happy with her for once. Julia and Ms. King had forgiven her once -- would they forgive her again, if she kept trying and failing to bring back Maximilian?

She returned to her room that night with Anna, still smiling and feigning lightheartedness. She had had a good time. But it only made her feel more guilty. Letting herself have a good time and forget her promise would make it easier to let go. That's what Simon Grayson had been warning her about, she realized -- if she let go and accepted that Maximilian was dead, pretty soon she'd have forgotten him and moved on, and Death would have won.

---

Alexandra saw Anna off at the entrance to Charmbridge Academy the following week. Anna was excited, anxious, and sad, all at once. She couldn't wait to get back to California to see her parents, but the idea of accompanying her father on the campaign trail terrified her. Traditionalists might value pure blood, but Mr. Chu apparently thought some wizard voters in North California wanted to see him with his Muggle wife and half-blood daughter.

"You'll be all right by yourself, won't you?" Anna asked.

"No, I'm sure I'll forget to eat or something without you around to remind me." Alexandra smiled at her. "I'll be fine."

"You'll stay out of trouble, right?"

"Sure."

Anna gave her a skeptical look.

"I just lost my temper," Alexandra said. "And Mr. Grue does have bad breath. Everyone hates it when he leans close to criticize you."

Anna shook her head. "You had to mouth off to him just in time to get detention over the spring break."

Alexandra shrugged. "What else would I be doing, anyway? Maybe I'll play cards with Constance and Forbearance, but other than that..."

Anna's expression was knowing and a little suspicious. They hadn't talked about the black book lately, but Anna knew Alexandra was still spending much of her free time studying death (neither of them used the term 'necromancy').

Fortunately, Anna believed Alexandra's outburst in Mr. Grue's class had been just another example of her temper and reckless attitude, not a carefully planned act of defiance.

"Have a good trip." Alexandra gave Anna a hug. "I can't believe you're going to fly in an airplane before me."

Anna laughed nervously. "I can't believe my father allowed it. But that train ride took forever." She released Alexandra and picked up her bag. She had already sent Jingwei ahead, deciding the owl would be better off flying back to San Francisco on her own. "I hope planes are as safe as Tomo says they are."

"Airplane crashes are pretty rare, I think." Alexandra winced inwardly when Anna blanched, and smiled reassuringly. "I mean, I hardly ever hear about big ones crashing, it's usually the little ones --" Anna kept turning whiter, and Alexandra decided she wasn't helping. "You'll be fine. Tell me what it's like."

Anna nodded, and then turned to trod off in the direction the other departing students were heading, through the woods towards the Invisible Bridge. Alexandra saw Tomo, who joined Anna as they walked along the path through the trees. William was going home, too -- he waved at her, and Alexandra sighed and waved back.

She spent that morning playing cards with the Pritchards. The rec room was unusually crowded -- there were always quite a few students who stayed at school over vacation, like Alexandra and the Pritchards -- but this year there were more. With most cross-country Wizardrails still not running, not everyone was willing to adapt to Muggle methods of transportation. She was surprised when Angelique joined them. She guessed that with David and Darla both having gone home over the break, Angelique was lonely.

That afternoon, however, she reported to Ms. Fletcher's office in the basement. To her relief, she seemed to be the only one serving detention over the break. Her relief was short-lived when the custodian told her, "Mr. Grue and Ms. Shirtliffe must love you, Quick."

"Excuse me?" Alexandra was immediately wary.

"They both asked me to see to it that you're not standing around giving orders to Clockworks for your detention." The large witch smiled. "Come with me."

Alexandra followed her, upstairs and outside and around the building, to the stables.

Charmbridge Academy kept a handful of horses, both winged and mundane. There was an Equestrian Club, and the older JROC students sometimes practiced riding the winged variety. There was also a winged goat pen; the care and taming of the creatures was part of Mr. Fledgefield's advanced Magical Animal Husbandry class.

Charmbridge's stables were indoors, next to the gymnasium, but Alexandra assumed it was another trick of magic to fit the enormous, hangar-like space inside the academy building. The ceiling was high overhead, high enough for even Granians to take short indoor flights. Unlike the Kings' stable at Croatoa, though, the winged horses were kept in pens -- albeit very spacious ones -- when not allowed out for riding or grazing.

Ms. Fletcher led Alexandra to these pens, tossed her long, bright, rainbow scarf over a shoulder, and handed her a shovel.

"Spring cleaning," she said cheerfully. "Guess what you get to shovel?"

"Don't Clockworks usually do this?" Alexandra asked.

"Yes, but I have plenty of other things for them to do."

This had not been Alexandra's plan. She had expected to be cleaning and sweeping in the basement, or at least taking Clockworks to and from there. She took the shovel and looked at it with dismay.

"Don't make faces. A little horseshit never hurt anyone," Ms. Fletcher said. And while Alexandra stood there blinking at the shovel, the waiting piles of manure, and the custodian's casual profanity, Ms. Fletcher chuckled and walked away.

Alexandra started with the winged goats' pen, enclosed in a floor-to-ceiling fence, and discovered that the creatures were ornery and territorial. They also seemed to think her jeans and jacket would be tasty.

"Stop it!" she shouted at one, kicking it away from her pants cuff, before she felt a nibble on the back of her neck, followed by a tug. She spun around, and nearly swung the shovel at the goat that was hovering behind her with bits of her collar in its teeth.

"That's it!" she snarled, and pulled out her wand.

One of the goats butted her from behind with a loud "Baaaah!", knocking her sprawling into the dirt. She rolled over and pointed her wand.

"Petrificus Totalus!" she yelled, and the goat was frozen in place, crouching to make another run at her. Unfortunately, this provoked the other goats, and soon she was being knocked around the pen as she cast the Body-Bind Curse on one animal after another. By the time they were all petrified in place, Alexandra was covered with filth and bruises. She was muttering other curses under her breath as she shoveled out the pen. It was nearly evening when she was finished.

Exhausted and sore, she wandered between the horse stalls, pausing in front of a Granian who whickered softly. Alexandra reached out and patted the winged horse's head. Granians she could deal with.

"I'll take care of you tomorrow," she said, and took a look in the final stall.

She paused when she saw the skeletal black creature inside.

"I didn't even know we had Thestrals at Charmbridge," she said softly.

She held out a hand and whistled softly, and the Thestral, which was drinking from its trough, trotted over, as amiable as any other equine, and allowed Alexandra to rub its scaly black nose. It seemed glad of the attention.

Alexandra noticed that it was dripping red from its snout, and realized that the trough it was drinking from was filled with blood. She grimaced. She knew Thestrals ate flesh, but they were harmless to humans.

"It's no wonder some people think you're bad omens, though," she said. "Between your diet and the way you only appear to people who've seen death..." Her voice trailed off. The Thestral nudged her hand, and then turned and trotted back to the trough to lap at the red liquid.

"Only with a Deathly conveyance to travel and a Deathly spirit to guide you may you embark upon your Katabasis and return," Alexandra murmured. Could Thestrals see Death themselves? Was it a Thestral she needed for her journey?

"What's that, Quick?" asked Ms. Fletcher. Alexandra spun around, to find the custodian staring at her. Fletcher looked over the gate into the Thestral's pen. "Ah, you found Skuld." She did not seem surprised or concerned that Alexandra could see the Thestral. She was more interested in Alexandra's state of disarray. She looked her up and down. "Would this be why all the goats are paralyzed?"

"Those things are mean!"

Ms. Fletcher chuckled. "They'll be a lot meaner if you ever have to deal with them again. Trust me, they'll remember what you did to them." She took the shovel from Alexandra. "You do realize this is an enchanted shovel, right? If you tell it to, it will shovel for you."

Alexandra looked at the shovel, feeling her fingers clenching as if around a large, thick neck. "You didn't mention that."

"Should've asked. Ah well, calluses build character. See you tomorrow, Quick." She turned and walked off, whistling a tune, with Alexandra simmering behind her.

---

Alexandra spent the rest of the week in the library, when she wasn't at meals or detention. She read everything she could find about Thestrals. No one knew exactly why it was that they were invisible to anyone who hadn't witnessed death, but they had long been considered highly magical creatures with a connection to the spirit world. They were known to be one of the few animals that were not spooked by ghosts. A few ghosts had even learned to ride them; it was apparently quite tricky, given a ghost's limited ability to hold reins and sit in a saddle.

She was starting to put together some of the other ideas she had learned from the black book. She wanted to call the ghost in the basement to her, and she had assumed that the basement would be the best place to do it. However, according to what she'd read about ghosts, they weren't necessarily bound to a single place. There were a variety of ways to call them, some more compelling than others, but no single charm that would work universally.

She'd known she'd have to improvise. She'd been counting on proximity, but Thestrals were said to have a connection to death, and she remembered Sue Fox summoning a jibay with a blood offering (which reflected a variety of myths she'd read), and... Maximilian had a connection to Thestrals, too. They would be familiar creatures to him.

It's not Maximilian! she told herself.

But what if it is? a smaller voice asked.

She spent the week planning, jotting down elements of spellwork and ritual, while also making sure to visit Skuld each day in the stable. The kitchen-elves were quite cooperative about providing Alexandra with bits of meat to take to the Thestral. She had spent time trying to think up a plausible explanation to give them, and then told them the truth, which to her surprise, sufficed.

"Witches is often asking us for apples and melon rinds to take to the horsies," said Mr. Remy, whose perpetual scowl Alexandra now found less off-putting. He squinted at her. "Not so many wants to feed a Thestral." He shook his head, and handed her a mess of bloody scraps wrapped in butcher paper, holding his huge, bloody knife in the other hand. Alexandra smiled and thanked him.

She had no idea if what she was planning to do would work, but she did know that sneaking into the stables would be easier than sneaking into the basement.

Anna and the other students would be returning on Sunday, so Alexandra planned her ritual for Saturday night.

She took a nap after detention that evening, with a bowl full of fresh, bloody organ meat sitting on her desk. She had to cover it up to keep Charlie from pecking at it. When she woke up, at midnight, she gave Charlie some owl treats, and then threw on her cloak and picked up the bowl.

Charlie cawed as Alexandra opened the window. "Fly, fly!"

"Ssh!" she said. She listened, but there was no sound from Sonja and Carol's room. She shook her head at Charlie. "Quiet." She pulled her Twister out from under her bed, and climbed with it onto her desk. From there, she squatted on top of the broom and ducked her head to glide out the window, waited for Charlie to hop out onto the sill, and then she pulled the window closed from the outside.

It took her only moments to descend to the ground, with Charlie following her. The first few days of April had been chilly, but there hadn't been any rain, so it was dry and cold that night, and the grass was soft underfoot. Looking up, she could see lights here and there, where younger students were staying up past lights-out or older students were still studying or talking in their rooms. She hugged the base of the wall so she wouldn't be seen by anyone who happened to be looking outside.

Almost too easy, she thought, as she walked around Charmbridge Academy to one of the stable doors.

This was the part where she might get caught. The door was locked from the outside, of course, but usually the staff was worried about students sneaking out; who would break in to the academy out here? Especially through the stables?

As she hoped, the door was not sealed with a Colloportus spell. It was locked, but it took her only seconds to magically Unlock it. With her heart beating excitedly, she stepped into the dark stables.

The winged goats at the far end began making loud noises. The cacophony of baahing and bleating and butting their heads against their pen began disturbing the horses as well. Alexandra gritted her teeth, and stalked over to the goat pen.

"You're smelly, ugly, and stupid," she said. "Bleat all you want." And she pointed her wand and said, "Silencio!" until every goat was bleating silently. With a snort, she went back to the horse stalls. Some of the horses were moving about restlessly, but Alexandra's voice soothed them. Charlie didn't seem to like being surrounded by them, and stayed on Alexandra's shoulder, occasionally flapping restlessly.

Alexandra walked to the farthest stall, and whispered, "Hello, Skuld," as she opened the door.

In the darkness, the Thestral was nearly invisible even to her, but she heard it snort and then make its ungainly way over to her. She held out the bowl full of liver and kidneys and intestines, and Skuld dipped her nose into it like a normal horse accepting an apple. The chomping and slurping sounds made Alexandra grimace a bit, but when Skuld was done, Alexandra rubbed the creature's nose and said, "Now, all you have to do is stand here."

She walked into the stall and stood in front of the trough full of blood.

"Stay on my shoulder, Charlie," she commanded. Though Charlie was not always the most obedient familiar, there were times when the raven heeded her voice. This was one of those times.

It's not necromancy, Alexandra thought. The offering of flesh to the Thestral, the raven on her shoulder, the trough full of blood, the ritual in the dead of night -- it might look like Dark magic, but it was all perfectly harmless.

Still, she really hoped she didn't get caught. She hoped even more that she wasn't about to feel stupid.

Alexandra knew now why all the teachers at Charmbridge Academy disparaged 'doggerel verse.' It wasn't as precise and predictable as spells cast with standard incantations and standard wand gestures. When you started improvising magic, you usually accomplished nothing, and sometimes accomplished something you neither intended nor wanted. But none of the really powerful magic she'd read about was performed with a swish and a flick and a few words of Latin. The greatest wizards of the ages improvised. Abraham Thorn, she was quite certain, had not accomplished what he had by relying on standard books of spells.

You're not Abraham Thorn, said a little voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like Anna.

She could not resist replying: No? And why can't I be as good as him? Or better?

She knew what Anna would say to that, too. Anna, ever the sensible one. She wouldn't understand what Alexandra was trying to do now. Anna was wisdom and compassion -- Alexandra was wit and passion. In her own wiser moments, Alexandra knew that she needed Anna as much as Anna needed her. But this wasn't one of her wiser moments. She'd been studying and planning for this moment for months, even if she hadn't always known exactly what it was she was going to try to do. But now she did.

And Anna needed not to be here -- physically, or in Alexandra's head. She banished the nagging voice, and raised her wand to speak the words she had prepared herself:

"Restless souls who aren't at peace,
where you wander without release,
to the Lands Beyond you're driven,
because you haven't been forgiven.
Now I'm opening the gate
you passed through when you met your fate;
I command you, through the veil,
to answer my summons without fail!"

She knew she wasn't much of a poet. She'd spent days just trying to get her spell to rhyme with the meaning she wanted to convey. This kind of magic wasn't about the words you used so much as the force you put into them. You had to mean it.

At first, nothing happened, and she gritted her teeth in frustration. Maybe she hadn't been demanding enough. Maybe 'demanding' was not the right attitude to take.

Or maybe you're just not as great a witch as you thought you were, said the voice in her head, less kindly.

Then Charlie flapped and cawed, and Skuld sniffed the air curiously.

Alexandra pointed her wand, ready to banish any hostile spirits that might manifest. But the apparition that appeared in the middle of the stall was glowing softly, a luminescent silvery-gray -- a ghost, then, a true wizard ghost. Which meant it was harmless.

She knew it was someone familiar before she recognized the face, and for one instant, she felt a pang of hope intermingled with grief that was so sharp and painful, her knees almost buckled.

Then she saw who it was.

Tall, handsome, and friendly-looking even in death, his once-blue eyes still seemed to possess a little of their twinkle as he smiled gently at her.

"Hello, Starshine," he said.

It was the ghost of Benedict Journey.