Tarot Academy 4 - Sarah Piper Page 0,10

Red Sands is a good idea—at least until we’ve got a better handle on what Casey’s up to, where Trello might be hiding, and Ani’s prognosis.

Oh, Ani… Worry tightens my chest, but I breathe through it. With Professor Broome camped out at his bedside tonight, I know he’s in good hands. Tomorrow will be here soon enough; I’ll finally get to hold him in my arms, to run my fingers through his hair, to tell him how much he means to me.

Yes, tomorrow will definitely be better. And for now, that’s as far ahead as I’m willing to think.

“Do you think Casey knows about Phaines’s death?” Professor Maddox asks.

“It’s possible,” I say, gathering up the rest of the full mugs and distributing them around the table. “She would’ve felt it the moment his hold broke, so she might’ve drawn the conclusion about his death. It’s also possible she got in touch with her APOA team as soon as she came out of the binding, and they told her what was going on.”

“But she said we shouldn’t contact APOA,” Doc says. “Or anyone at the Academy, for that matter.”

“Yeah, I don’t get that part.” I take a seat between Isla and Carly, directly across from Doc. “She also said Agent Quintana was allowed in the house here, so obviously not all the APOA guys are off-limits.”

“Eastman’s not on the guest list, though.” Carly picks up Casey’s note for another look. “And he’s their boss.”

“Actually, I wonder if anyone from APOA knows about Phaines,” I say. “At this point, we have no idea if Trello went back for the body after we left, or if she reported it anonymously, or even at all. Maybe he’s still down there.”

A shiver rattles my bones as I picture him lying there, his body rigid, the whole place full of glowing, pulsating jars of stolen magick.

“Yes, on that note,” Doc says, and Carly and I let out a joint sigh, knowing we can’t put it off any longer.

Time to relive the glory days of witnessing a magickal murder in the library basement.

We take another steadying gulp of tea, then do our best to get the story out, one horrifying piece at a time: Carly’s premonition at the café, followed by Trello’s sudden appearance on the path outside. Following our disgraced headmistress to the library. The broken security cameras above the basement door.

And then the secret sub-basement beneath the storage area, full of the magickal essences stolen from our fellow witches and mages. The missing chunks of hair, all bagged and lined up neatly on the bulletin board.

And Professor Phaines himself, the Dark Hierophant, hooked up to his magickal IVs, siphoning stolen magick until his killer came and put a stop to it.

“I shouldn’t have been surprised,” I say. “The Hierophant card was stalking me all day. Even Carly had a premonition about it when we met up at the coffee shop. We kept assuming he fled campus, but the cards were trying to tell me the truth. He was right there all along.”

“Show him the pictures,” Carly says.

I’d nearly forgotten about those, but now I take out my phone and pass it around, showing everyone the photos I snapped on our little torture tour.

Beneath the table, Isla reaches for my hand. “Goddess, Stevie. What if you’d been caught?”

“Trello was on a mission,” Carly says. “She only had eyes for Phaines.”

“And you’re certain she killed him?” Doc asks.

“Totally. She had these big-ass syringes filled with some kind of glowing red potion. She went in, said her piece, and then it was done. She was gone in a blink after that.”

“We checked the body,” I say. “No pulse, no signs of life, and all the machines and IVs went dead.”

“If I’m doing the math right,” Professor Maddox says, “the approximate time of death jives with the time his connection to Casey and Janelle broke. What did the headmistress say to him, exactly?”

“Something about how Phaines was drawing too much attention, and they’d reached the end of their agreement.” I lift my mug to my face, inhaling the calming scent of the mint. For all Trello’s bullshit, I still can’t believe she was in league with Phaines.

“Obviously Trello knew he was there,” Carly says. “Probably the whole time. They were working together—she said as much. They had an agreement.”

“But to what end?” Doc asks. “And who else knew about it, other than Janelle?”

I blow out a breath. “Honestly, we still don’t know Janelle was totally in on it.”

“Stevie, she’d