Phantoms of Dusk (Society of Magic Book 1) Page 3

  She looked up from the box. “Oh, yes. Thank you.” He nodded and went back to his sorting.

  Elora took everything up to her room and laid Angela’s mail on her bed where she’d be sure to find it. Still chilly, she pulled the cardigan from the closet and shrugged into it. Every time she wore it, it was as though her mother gave her a warm hug. She closed her eyes for a moment, wishing for the millionth time her mother was there. She missed her, missed both of her parents. Sighing, she sat on her bed to open the package.

  Inside the paper wrapping was a birthday card, a kitten surrounded by half a dozen large dogs. They all wore birthday hats, and the kitten sniffed at a birthday cake.

  The caption read, “It’s your birthday. Dare to be different.”

  Inside the card was a note from her mother. Elora’s heart leapt and began to beat faster. The card swam in her vision, and she dashed away the sudden tears.

  “To my beautiful daughter on her 18th birthday. May this guide you to the woman you were always destined to be.”

  She had forgotten her birthday. No one had ever celebrated it after her parents died, not even Jane. The only people who had ever cared about it were gone. And yet her mother had remembered and made arrangements to deliver a gift. She had somehow known her daughter would be at Westerly. The tears threatened once more, but Elora pushed them back, blinking them away.

  Bright paper and satin ribbon covered the small box within the larger one. Not wanting to destroy the complicated bow, Elora slid the ribbon from the package. She tried to keep everything as intact as she could.

  Inside the box was a necklace. The teardrop-shaped stone could only be an opal, but it wasn’t milky thing sold in a department store. It was a blue deeper than the midnight sky with brilliant scarlet streaks and emerald flecks. It seemed lit from within. The delicate silver chain shimmered under the overhead light as though made of water. Elora had never seen anything so beautiful.

  She reached for the necklace. The instant her fingers touched the stone a surge of energy shot through Elora like liquid fire. It flowed through every nerve ending. She felt the fine hairs on her arms and the back of her neck rise. Her vision filled with the reds and blues and greens of the pendant.

  That was the last thing she saw before her vision went black.

  Chapter 7

  Elora opened her eyes to cheerful yellow walls and a television in the corner near the ceiling. The walls in her dorm room were beige, and there was no TV. Struggling to sit up, she looked around the strange room. Angela sat in a chair beyond the rails of the bed in which Elora lay. Her bed didn’t have rails.

  “You’re awake!” Angela sprang up from the chair and ran for the open door. She was back a moment later. An older white woman with iron gray curls followed right behind her. The woman’s scrubs were pale blue with a butterfly print. Elora’s roommate smiled as the nurse bustled over to a rack of electronic equipment and began to read.

  “What happened? How long have I been here?” She was in a hospital, but the last thing Elora remembered was opening the box from her mother. The rest of what she remembered had to be a hallucination. There was no way it could be real.

  “When I got back from classes Thursday, I found you on the floor. I couldn’t wake you.”

  “Thursday. What day is today?”

  “Saturday.”

  Holy shit. I’ve been unconscious for three days? Elora stared at Angela until the nurse asked her to lift her arm and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around it. She checked a couple of other things and jotted down some notes on Elora’s medical chart.

  “I’m Doctor Vance. How are you feeling, Miss Snow? Any pain?”

  “No, ma’am. I guess I feel okay. A little stiff, maybe.”

  She nodded. “That’s to be expected. You haven’t moved much in the last three days.” She glanced at Angela and smiled. “Neither has your friend here. You had us worried, but all your vitals are normal.”

  “Can I go home?” God, she hoped her student insurance would cover this.

  “Well, you do seem to be fine now, but I think we’ll keep you for another day or two to be sure of that.” She jotted something else down and hung the chart on a hook on the wall. “I’ll send one of the nurses’ aides by with lunch for you both.” With that, Doctor Vance left. Angela filled the void with a story of the ambulance ride and the cute EMTs who let her ride with Elora.

  Chapter 8

  Angela wasn’t her only visitor that Saturday. Elora couldn’t hide her shock when Hugh Goggins showed up with flowers and a card from the coffee klatch. She hoped he didn’t notice when she blinked back tears, but she was sure he had. Angela took the flowers from him to the nurses’ station for a vase and some water.

  “We missed you Thursday night, Elora.” He handed her the card. Pulling a chair closer to the bed, he sat, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. It wasn’t a private room, but Elora was the only occupant. “I’m happy to hear that you’re on the mend.”

  Elora didn’t answer right away. Instead she made a show of reading the signatures and well wishes written in the card. She wasn’t sure she could trust her voice. She wasn’t used to having anyone actually care what happened to her.

  First Angela and now… She frowned down at the card in her hands. There were at least a dozen signatures in it. Not all had notes with them, but those that did echoed Professor Goggins’ sentiment. They missed her and hoped she’d be back soon. Not even her latest set of fosters had come to visit, and they had to have been notified. They were the only people she had that she could list as emergency contacts. No one else came, only Angela and the professor.

  “I didn’t think anyone would even notice.”

  “Of course we noticed. Just because you don’t say much doesn’t mean you’re not part of our group.” Goggins smiled, his gray eyes crinkling at the corners. Heat rose in Elora’s cheeks; she hadn’t meant to say that aloud.

  “Here we are.” A smiling Angela reentered with the bouquet. Asiatic Lilies and purple Freesia danced and bobbed in a simple glass vase. She set it down on the window sill next to Elora’s bed and resumed her seat. The three of them chatted for a few minutes. Well, Angela and Professor Goggins chatted. Elora didn’t know what had happened to her, so Angela filled him in with Elora’s blessing. He stood up after a few minutes.

  “I don’t want to tire you. Three days in a coma is nothing to sneeze at.”

  “Thank you for coming to see me, Professor Goggins.” Elora smiled. “I’ll see you Thursday night.”

  “Well, I hope you see me before then, Elora. We do have class Monday, you know.”

  With that, he left, and Elora fell asleep as she and Angela watched a rerun of the Big Bang Theory on the corner TV.

  As Doctor Vance had predicted, Elora remained in the hospital for the weekend. Angela was the one who drove her back to the dorms Monday morning.

  “Shouldn’t you be in class?” Elora asked when she got into Angela’s waiting car.

  The nurse handed Elora her release paperwork. “Now you take it easy for a few days, Lori girl. No dancing or playing football or anything like that.”

  “Not much chance of either of those.” Elora smiled up at her. Nurse Shaniqua was the only person who had ever called her Lori. She shut the car door for Elora as soon as Elora pulled her leg in and then stepped away. Angela put the car in gear. She pulled out of the patient loading zone as Shaniqua wheeled the chair back through the door. Elora looked over at her roommate. “Class?”

  “Oh. Yeah.” She paused without answering as she pulled into traffic. “Classes are canceled today.”

  “What? Why?” Elora frowned. Had she somehow missed a holiday? Angela’s expression and tone both said that whatever the reason for the cancellation, it wasn’t good. The other girl bit her lower lip, keeping her eyes steadfastly on the road. She flexed her fingers around the wheel, tightening them until her knuckles turned white. “Spill, Angela. What happened?”

  Angela glanced at
Elora then, and Elora saw tears in her eyes. “Professor Goggins is dead.”

  Elora’s heart stopped. “Oh, my God.” When it started beating again, it was at triple time. Or so it seemed. “But he… We just…” Unable to form a complete sentence, Elora stared unseeing out the windshield in front of her.

  “There was a fire yesterday morning. According to the news, there were no smoke detectors in his house, and he never woke up.”

  Her mouth opening and closing like some parody of a fish, Elora was at a loss for words. They wouldn’t come. Her mind shut down. Her parents. Professor Goggins. All burned to death in their own homes where they should have been safe. She knew there would be tears later, possibly even nightmares, but for that moment in time, Elora was numb.

  Chapter 9

  Walking into their dorm building was surreal. Elora was still in shock from learning of Professor Goggins’ death when she saw the banner. It hung across the doorway to the common room and read, “Welcome home, Elora!” Not everyone had a class with Goggins or knew him, but they all knew her, it seemed, or at least knew of her.

  She heard several whispers as she walked in, people telling each other she was “the coma girl.” At least nobody in the dorms called her that to her face or asked what happened. That was something. But everyone she met that day thanked God she was okay and then welcomed her back.

  Classes resumed Tuesday morning, including History. One of Professor Goggins’ assistants taught the lesson for that day. She had to stop every once in a while catch her breath, trying to not cry. His funeral would be Thursday morning, and Elora wasn’t sure if that was a fitting tribute or a cruel cosmic joke.

  Regardless of what class Elora went to, coma girl whispers followed her. Her English Lit professor singled her out, telling her she could skip the quiz the next day. She could take a makeup quiz later in the week, after she had time to catch up on her reading. She usually sat by herself in the back of the class, but that morning, two students sat in the seats to her left.

  They wanted to know what it was like to wake from a coma. They weren’t from her dorm. She assumed Angela had told everyone there what had happened, even if she had to make it up, so no one would bother her where she lived.

  After her morning classes, Elora took her peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwich and a bottle of water out to the courtyard. It was a sunny day, the air crisp with the chill of autumn, and she didn’t want to be inside. The courtyard smelled of dried leaves and earthy loam and sunshine, and she soaked it in as best she could. She kind of dreaded leaving to go to her next class.

  If the first two were any sign, complete strangers would be in her face about her medical and mental history. Not cool. She looked forward to going back to the dorm to study and hang with Angela when the day ended. She grinned to herself as she cleaned up her trash and headed off to Russian.

  Chapter 10

  Elora’s wrist hurt from so much writing as she scribbled out her Russian homework. Later on, Russian 102 or 103, they would have Cyrillic keyboards, but in the intro course they had to write everything out by hand. Cyrillic cursive looked like random squiggles or doodles of water. In a weird way, it was fun.

  The door opened behind her and Angela breezed in carrying a box from Dino’s, the local pizza shop. The tang of oregano and tomato and garlic filled the room. It smelled heavenly. Elora had been working for so long, she hadn’t noticed it was dark outside. It was only about seven.

  “I hope you’re hungry, roomie!” Angela set the box down on her dresser.

  “I’m starved.” Elora stretched, leaning back so far in her chair it almost tipped over. She caught it in time, though, even as her spine realigned from having bent over her writing for so long. Shaking out her hands as she stood, she walked over to Angela’s dresser, sniffing at the air. Her eyes widened when she saw the toppings. “Bacon and bell pepper is my favorite.”

  “I know. I do listen the few times you actually say anything.” Angela’s grin took any sting out of her words. “Dig in.” She pulled out a slice for herself and started munching.

  They had no plates and only paper towels from a roll in the bathroom for napkins. They ate pizza straight from the box and drank diet soda pulled from the fridge in Elora’s closet, each sitting cross-legged on her own bed. The saltiness of the bacon, the bitter-sweet of the green peppers, the sweetness of the tomato sauce were the best things Elora had tasted in forever. She even ate the thin, cheesy edges of the crust, what the Walters called “pizza bones.” They saved them for Daisy whenever they had pizza for dinner. Elora had complained once that she never got to eat her favorite combination at her fosters’ house because Jim didn’t like green peppers. Angela must have taken notes.

  Elora was brushing her teeth when Angela popped her head into their tiny bathroom. “Before I forget – again! – I put that necklace in the top drawer of your nightstand. I didn’t want you to think you had lost it or someone had stolen it or anything.” Elora stopped brushing and met Angela’s gaze reflected in the mirror. “It’s so pretty! The card said it was a birthday present from your mom? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to read it. I thought you said your mom was dead.”

  Elora’s eyes fluttered closed. Her mouth full of toothpaste, her tongue starting to burn from it, she clenched her teeth on the gritty stuff. Don’t say anything. Do not engage. Do. Not. Engage.

  “Oh, gosh, Elora. I’m sorry. I always ask too many questions. My dad says I don’t know when to shut up.” She opened her eyes in time to see Angela’s crestfallen expression. Elora spat into the sink and turned the water back on to rinse her mouth, which gave her a little time. She forced herself to let go of the automatic urge to push back, to push away the one person who seemed like she wanted to be her friend, if Elora would let her.

  “It’s okay, Angela. Yes, it was a gift from my mother. She and my dad were students here, back in the day.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. They met here. They were even married in the chapel on the other side of campus.” Elora hadn’t had time to think about it since she opened that package, but it was some kind of reverse time capsule sort of deal.

  Instead of burying something to dig up and open on a specific date, Mallory had left it with someone to mail it on a specific date. She might never know exactly who got it to where it needed to be. For all she knew, it was the postman who had given it to her in the first place. He was about the right age.

  “That’s so romantic. They met and fell in love and now you’re here, following in their footsteps.” With that, Angela backed out of the bathroom. “Sorry. I’ll leave you in peace. Good night. Sweet dreams.”

  When Elora finished up, Angela’s light was out and she was in bed, her back toward Elora’s side of the room. She heard faint sounds from their nearest neighbors. Strains of music. A thump here and there. A door slamming. Sitting on the edge of her bed, Elora slowly pulled open the drawer.

  She picked up the box. She wasn’t sure she wanted to touch the necklace again, given how well that had gone the first time. But then the moment she opened the box, she knew nothing else would happen. It was as beautiful as she remembered, but there no longer seemed anything magical about it. It was nothing more than a pretty gift from her mother. Looking at it, a feeling of peace, of freedom fell over Elora. Like the cardigan, it was as though her mother wrapped her in a warm and loving embrace. She shut the box and the drawer and turned off the light. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was asleep.

  Chapter 11

  Thursday dawned gloomy and cold. Rain threatened but didn’t fall, the street below Elora’s window remaining dry. Professor Goggins’ funeral was at ten, so she could have gone to her first class, had it been anything but History. No one was going to History.

  Not today.

  Instead, when her alarm sounded, Elora turned it off and burrowed back under the covers. History wasn’t happening. English Lit conflicted with the funeral, so that wasn’t happening either. The jury was still
out on Russian. She’d probably go to Fencing, if only to let the physical exertion drown out the sorrow.

  When she finally got out of bed, she dressed in a black sweater dress, black tights, and boots. She didn’t bother with makeup. She’d only cry it off. The only jewelry she wore was the necklace her mother had sent. She would have skipped that, too, and not worn any jewelry at all, but when she saw the box in the drawer she’d felt almost compelled to open it. It was perfect against the nubby black knit of her dress, and that same peace she’d felt a few days ago flowed into her again. The necklace made her feel closer to her mother. That was something she might need as she paid her last respects to Professor Goggins and laid him to rest.

  Angela drove Elora and a couple of other students from their dorm to the funeral home, which was right off campus. The service in the funeral home was quick. A priest in stark black and white read a bible passage that slipped past Elora like a shallow stream, drying up before it could leave a mark.

  From there they went to the cemetery, the same one where Elora’s parents were buried. The clouds overhead were the color of steel and ice crystals; it was cold enough it might snow. The wind moaned as it wove through the trees in the graveyard. Its siren song competed with the rustle of curled and dying leaves too stubborn to fall from their branches. The mournful sound fit Elora’s mood.

  If the service at the funeral home left no impression on Elora, the ceremony at the graveside was its opposite. The eulogy that was a part of it burned through the barrier she’d built around her heart, and the tears flowed. Someone, she thought it was Angela, put an arm around her shoulder in silent support. Elora cried for Professor Goggins, but she cried for her mother and father as well.

  The ceremony ended.

  Except for the family and a handful of students, the mourners returned to their cars and their lives. Elora slipped away. Her parents weren’t far from where they’d buried Goggins; she couldn’t leave without paying her respects. The wind had picked up, sending the clouds scudding across the sky. Elora pulled her coat more tightly around her. She chose her steps with care as she walked across the uneven ground.