Nightworld Academy: Term One(Nightworld Academy #1)(42)

"I told you something was happening with Maeve," Jamie puts in. "I spoke to Theodora."

She rubs her lips together. "It's time to be honest with us, Maeve. What are you seeing?"

I can't. Not yet. Not until I have facts. If I tell Sofia and Jamie that I repeatedly imagine Jamie's death, there's nothing they can do apart from push me harder to discover more. Each time I have a vision that repeats, I gain more information where and when things will happen.

The last time I used the scrying bowl, I tried to summon the future I see for Jamie, but nothing happened. Yes, I hate the random visions, but what if that's the only way I'll see the full details? Once more details come to me, I will tell them.

The location in the vision isn't the academy, so while we're still here, he's safe.

Halloween is weeks away and Tessa may not be safe.

"I told you, I saw my friend from home—the one I see every time I use the scrying bowl."

Jamie and Sofia look at me doubtfully.

"Can you help?" I ask. "I haven't seen the full events, but I know this is on Halloween."

"What happens to her?" asks Sofia.

"I don't know." Exasperation seeps into my tone, and I rub my temples. "I don't understand why I can't focus."

Sofia reaches out to touch my hand and I move it away, positive that each time she does she can read my mind.

"Halloween is next month," says Jamie. "That's plenty of time to work on connecting with your gift. You've already made more progress than I have."

Sofia shakes her head. "That's not true, Jamie. You've come a long way. You have a much fuller picture when you touch items."

"But I can only envision the past," he protests. "I need to see the future."

"But together you could make a good team, don't you think?" Sofia holds her arms out in a gesture of bringing us together. Jamie stares at his feet and I look at the bookshelves. There's an undercurrent to her word 'team'. One that hangs between Jamie and me all the time.

"Would you like to try to work together now? Your mind must be attuned to your future-sight if you've experienced a vision already today."

My mouth dries. But what would I see? The idea that I might share images of his death sickens me. But if I ask for Jamie to leave, there'll be more suspicion. "Okay. But I'm tired. I don't think that will help."

"If you're closer to your subconsciousness because you're tired, that might help." Sofia's mouth parts. "Ah. Of course! I'm a fool. You don't need scrying bowls or crystals. You need to enter trance."

"Uh. What?" I twist my head between her and Jamie. "Are you suggesting you hypnotise me? Because... no."

I don't want to let anybody into my mind; Tobias already invaded once.

Sofia sits. "Jamie is with us, if you don't trust me."

"No. No, it's not that I don't trust you. I don't know if I'm ready for this."

"But if you want to see everything in the vision about your friend." Jamie's voice hardens. He's not stupid; he knows what I saw earlier involved him.

I take a deep breath. "I'll use the scrying bowl again, but I'm not ready for hypnotic trances."

The pair accept my protest more readily than I expected, and Sofia brings across the large bowl and places it in front of me.

"Jamie, sit beside Maeve. I'm curious about something." Sofia beckons him over. The light perfume she wears reminds me of the ocean, fresh and invigorating, and is one I associate with the visions I have here.

She always stands close.

I pull on my lip in trepidation as I steel myself for what might happen.

Each time I use the bowl, the easier I find it to draw myself away from the world and into the space in my mind. The issue is capturing the vision once I'm there.

The spiral downwards happens quicker this time; the images sudden and sharp. I'm looking at a different scene. Tessa stands dressed in the same costume. I've visited her home since we were at primary school and recognise her hallway. The coat stand. The mirror above a pine dresser which Tessa looks into before she picks up her phone.

She checks the screen and I see a blue and white blur but not enough to read the screen. Facebook? She opens the front door and calls out to her mum that she'll be home around eleven, then walks out. I reach out with my mind and attempt to follow her, but she fades from view.

I swear beneath my breath and push hair from my face, as if that would make the pictures clearer. Beside me, Jamie shifts, and his leg touches mine.

The vision returns—clearer and bigger—and shifts to a new location.

I can't see how Tessa enters the building, but I return to the original snapshots of her standing in a room decorated with Halloween pumpkins and garlands. Dry ice obscures the surroundings and loud music thuds around her.

My sight pans across the room as I focus on memorising her surroundings; if I've been here before, I’m struggling to recognise anything through the smoggy atmosphere. How? She isn't outside. Is my mind clouding this?

A guy stands nearby. Tall. Around our age, maybe older. His brown hair is short and tidy, and— Jamie shifts beside me again and his leg breaks contact with mine. The images mist over as if somebody dropped ink into the water.