“Is that the first time you saw her?” Cat asks.
I nod. “But I think I may have heard her before then. It’s weird though. Whenever she’s appeared to me, she’s never spoken. But there are times when I don’t see her, and I swear I hear a voice speaking to me.”
“Cool,” Colt says, then he pins his lips tight and leans back in his chair.
I chuckle. “It’s sorta cool, when it’s not creeping me out. But there’s more,” I say, shooting them both a significant glance.
Colton crosses his arms.
“Later on, I found something in my room.”
“What?” both of them say in unison, their wide eyes and open mouths proving they really are twins.
“A hidden door,” I say, chewing on my lower lip. “Well, technically, it was the door’s handle plate hidden behind the old wallpaper that drew my attention, but it was a door.”
“Okay?” Cat says. “I’m not sure why that’s overly significant. I mean, that house is nearly two-hundred years old. I guess I wouldn’t be surprised if there were a few covered-up passageways in that house.”
“True,” I say, nodding. “And until last night, I would have agreed with you. I was actually kinda excited to find it and wanted to go exploring. But the doorknob is missing, so I knew I’d have to wait until I found a way inside. Then yesterday morning, God, I can’t believe I’m even saying this…” I say, shaking my head, “Abigail’s ghost led me to where the door handle was hidden. It was in my dad’s bedroom. He interrupted me before I could grab it, but then…” I shudder away the memory of the light and shadow beneath the door.
“Then?” Colton repeats.
I take a deep breath, blinking rapidly to fight off the urge to chicken out. “Let me back up a bit… Abigail said something to me last night…” I say, tapping my chin. “Before I texted you yesterday.”
“What did Abigail say?” Colton asks, his eyebrows furrowed.
“The truth shall set you free,” I say, raising my eyebrows knowingly.
“Wait, like what Dominic wrote on your car?” Cat says, leaning forward and snorting.
“No, not like what Dominic wrote. She didn’t say it in Latin or anything. It was English,” I say, shaking my head.
“Freaky,” Cat says, sitting in one of the chairs.
“Right? It gets freakier,” I say, widening my eyes.
“You’re kidding?” she says.
“Nope. So there I am, trying to sleep after our call, and I realize there’s light shining from underneath the hidden door.”
“No,” Cat says breathlessly.
I nod.
Colton’s gaze is stone-cold, but he barely blinks.
“Dead serious. So there I am, staring at the glowing light of the door, and someone, or something, freaking moved on the other side,” I say, leaning in to whisper.
“Shut up,” Cat says, flicking her eyebrows up.
I nod. “I’m worried that—what if it’s the Vodník? What if my dad’s in league with it? I mean, why else would the door from my room be hidden? And why would Abigail only show me where the doorknob was when my dad wasn’t around? What if—”
Colton leans forward, catching Cat’s eye, and tipping this head to the side.
“We should try, Cat. We should just tell her,” he says.
Surprise floods my being and I pull up short. “Tell me? Tell me what?” I flit my gaze from Colt to Cat and back again. “What in the hell is going on?” I ask, trying to keep the anger swelling in my stomach at bay.
Cat sighs. “I don’t know how much of this you’ll be able to retain. Like I said, there’s heavy magic around your memories, Autumn. I can’t even begin to understand why, but I could sense it the minute I realized who you were. You’re gonna wanna hear us out before you totally freak. Okay?”
I narrow my eyes, “Shit. I’m right, aren’t I? Oh, God—” Despite myself, I take a seat.
She clasps her hands out in front of her and places them on the table. “This town, Windhaven, has a secret legacy. Everyone who’s lived here for years, the old family bloodlines, we all know about it,” she begins. “The academy was built here under its premise…”
“What she’s trying to say is…this town, or more specifically, certain families in this town, are cursed,” Colton interjects.
“Cursed?” I sputter. “You mean me? My family?”
“The Blackwoods, Abigail and Warren, they started something powerful when they moved here. I don’t know if it’s the energy the town is built on or the magic in your ancestors’ blood, but—” Cat trails off, her eyes going distant.
“But after Abigail’s death, things went sideways. Warren went from being a prominent member of the town to a recluse. Like the newspaper said before, he started building more and more rooms to the manor. Supposedly adding on to it for all the children they’d never have. Or, at least, that’s what everyone says. But we know different…” Colt says.
Cat nods, reaching for my hand. “Our families go back—way back—and we know it had nothing to do with the children. When Abigail died, Warren was lost. He didn’t want to let her go, so he tried to summon her back. But he didn’t have that kind of power. He was what we call a postmortem medium. He could see and talk to the dead, but he couldn’t raise them. Abigail, on the other hand…”
“Abigail was a necromancer,” Colt whispers.
New questions circle my brain like vultures, and I can’t seem to pluck one out that’s more significant than the others.
Necromancer? Postmortem medium?
The monikers tumble around, not really sticking, but almost making sense with the way things are unfolding.
Am I a postmortem medium, like Warren? Is that why Abigail has latched onto me? What does any of this have to do with the door?
“I’m so confused,” I finally say.
Colt stands up, looking at a few spines of the large books nearby. The section
