Tarot Academy 4 - Sarah Piper Page 0,61

of the best and brightest witches and mages in the country? If one of his aims is to dismantle magickal institutions from the inside out, you guys are basically the source.”

I gulp down some more of the bitter, black coffee, hoping it will counterbalance the cold sense of doom crawling over my skin. As if we don’t have enough to worry about with the Dark Arcana and the outside authorities, now we’ve got Eastman fucking us from the inside, all under the guise of protecting and serving.

“Evil,” Nat says, giving up on the braid and reaching for a chocolate cappuccino muffin instead. “There’s no other word for it.”

“Yes,” Casey says, “and like most truly evil people, Eastman believes his intentions are a hundred percent noble. In his mind, magick itself is what harms students, and by destroying it, he’s saving them. Saving all of us. That’s why he was able to get through the Academy portals—the magick didn’t perceive him as a threat, because down to his very core, he believes he’s a savior.”

“But isn’t he a mage?” I ask. “He’s basically condemning himself.”

“According to what we found in his online records,” Casey says, “he basically believes he’s going to hell, and his only chance at salvation is to destroy the very thing that makes him unworthy.”

Unworthy. The word makes my insides burn.

“That is the most fucked-up thing I’ve heard all week,” Baz says. “And believe me, I’ve heard a lot of fucked-up shit lately.”

Professor Maddox shakes her head, her eyes shining. “We’ve seen this sort of fanatical behavior in many other contexts, but the root is always the same: a deep, unsettling hatred of self. Unfortunately, it rarely ends with the self. That kind of darkness spreads like nuclear fallout, sickening everyone it touches.”

“Getting back to Phaines,” Doc says, coming to stand behind me. He touches my shoulder, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “How does he tie into this?”

“And Anna Trello?” Professor Broome asks.

“And my mother?” Carly reaches for the last chocolate cappuccino muffin, breaking it in half and passing the other part to me. I gulp it down, grateful for the kindness.

Soon we’re all talking at once, everyone asking a million questions, the energy in the room rising to a fevered pitch of fear, anger, and determination.

“One at a time,” Casey finally says, shouting over the din to get our attention. We settle down again, waiting for her and Quintana to continue unraveling a conspiracy so many levels deep, it makes Area 51 look like a kiddie playground.

“Carly,” Quintana says, “it will come as no surprise to you that your mother’s primary interest here was the Arcana artifacts.”

“Nothing about my mother’s crazy schemes surprises me anymore,” Carly says. “But yes, she’s been chasing that golden ticket for decades.”

“In our investigation of Phaines, we learned that he and your mother had been working together for many years, predating his known crimes and her arrival on campus.”

“He was a so-called friend of the family,” Carly says. “We’ve known him forever.”

“Your mother believed he had knowledge about the whereabouts of the objects, including access to maps and manuscripts that could ultimately reveal their exact locations. That was her only interest in Phaines, as far as we could tell.”

Carly nods.

“For his part, Phaines—who was chasing after the same legends—believed your mother could help him through her connections to other wealthy treasure hunters as well as additional financial resources for his ongoing magickal experiments.”

“I’m intimately familiar with those,” Carly says. “Turns out I was one of them.”

“As was your mother,” Casey says. “Phaines’s possession formed a mental link between Janelle and me—I got glimpses of her relationship with him. Apparently, through similar but lower-level possessions and other spells, he’d been using her—with her consent—to spy on your magickal development for many years.”

Carly’s so angry she’s shaking. I grab her hand and squeeze, trying to send her calming vibes, wishing I could take away some of her pain. Across the room, Baz meets my gaze, his energy flaring with concern for her, trumping even his own hatred for the woman who caused them both so much pain.

“Apparently he believed he could perfect his siphoning spells and eventually access your psychic gifts,” Casey says.

“Like he did to those other students,” I say. “Basically, stealing their magick.”

“And my mother was involved in all of it.” Carly closes her eyes and shakes her head, another wave of fury rolling through her. “Again, I’m not surprised. Disgusted, but not surprised.”

“Once Janelle was appointed interim librarian,” Quintana says,