"So, were you covered in golden light and sucked through some kind of vortex to get here, too?" I asked Archer, trying to keep my mind on the task at hand and not the way his fingers were softly stroking my palm.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, golden light, then it was like someone was using my body to do origami. And then, bam, back at Hex Hall. Any idea what's going on?"

It was Jenna who answered. "None. Do you see anybody you remember?"

"I ran into Evan, the warlock I used to room with, while I was looking for you. He, uh, wasn't too happy to see me." Archer winced a little as he raised a hand to his cheekbone. It looked a little swol en, and a bruise was already forming. "Oh, right," I said. I'd nearly forgotten the various rumors about Archer after he left the school. "People think you killed Elodie. And tried to kill me, so maybe we should stop with the hand-holding."

I wasn't sure if Archer was confused or pissed or some combination of the two, but he dropped my hand, and said, "Why do-" But whatever he was going to say was cut off as the front door of Hecate Hall slowly creaked open. All heads swiveled toward it, and I swore I could hear footsteps coming from inside. I held my breath and wished I hadn't told Archer to let go of me.

Mrs. Casnoff stepped out into the dim light, wearing the same suit she'd worn the day I'd met her. That was the only thing that was the same.

She looked a good ten years older than she had the last time I'd seen her, and her hands, as she spread them wide in welcome, were shaking.

Her royal blue skirt and jacket seemed to hang on her bony frame, and there was some kind of dark stain on her silk blouse.

But most disturbing of all, her dark blond hair, that hair that she always teased, threatened, or enchanted into ridiculously ornate updos, was now completely white and streaming down her back. It fluttered around her head like spiderwebs.

"Students of Hecate Hall," she said, her voice wavering like an old lady's. "Welcome to a new semester."

CHAPTER 14

"Oh my God," Jenna murmured, just as I said, "Holy hell weasel," under my breath. I won't repeat what Archer said.

Someone in the crowd-I think it was Taylor-shouted, "But the school is closed. Everyone was saying..." Her voice trailed off, and one of the faeries piped up, her voice high and clear. "You have no right to bring us here. The Fae are no longer in all iance with the rest of Prodigium. On behalf of the Seelie court, I demand you send us home." Ah. That was Nausicaa. She was the only one of the faeries that talked like she was rehearsing a play.

Next to me, Jenna leaned in closer and said, "The Fae broke their all iance? Did you know that?" I shook my head just as Mrs. Casnoff pinned Nausicaa with a glare. No matter how feeble she seemed, she could still throw one heck of a dirty look. "All iances and treaties have no meaning here at Hecate Hall. Once you've been a student here, your all egiance is to the school. Always." She gave a smile that was more like a grimace. "It was in the code of conduct you signed when you were sentenced here." I remembered that, a thick pamphlet I'd barely read before scrawling my name on the dotted line. I suddenly wished I had of power of time travel so that I could go smack Sophie From A Year Ago around, and tell her to read things first.

"Now, I'm sure there are many questions," Mrs. Casnoff continued in what had to be the understatement of the year. "But for now, report to your rooms. All will be explained at tonight's assembly."

"This is crap!" someone shouted. I rose up on tiptoes and saw a tall boy with reddish hair.

"Evan," Archer murmured.

The crowd sort of scooted away from the boy as he and Mrs. Casnoff faced each other down.

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Butler?" Mrs. Casnoff asked, and this time, she sounded a lot more like her old self and less like a frail old lady.

"The Eye and the Brannicks have been killing us off, and the school freaking disappeared. And now, what, we're all just supposed to start a new school year?"

No one was whispering now. In fact, everything had gone unnaturally quiet, I realized. The wind had died, and there were no birds, no distant sound of the ocean. It was like the island was holding its breath.

"Enough," Mrs. Casnoff said. "As I said, the assembly this evening will answer all -"

"No!" Evan shouted, his voice echoing in the still air. "I'm not setting foot in that place until you tell us what the hell is going on. How did you get us here? Why is he here?" Evan jerked his thumb at Archer, and several people glanced in our direction. Archer was wearing a bored expression, but the bruise on his cheek was darker against his suddenly paler skin.

"Mr. Butler," Mrs. Casnoff snapped, drawing herself up taller. "Stop it. Now." Evan snorted. "Screw this." The girl next to Evan, a witch whose name I thought was Michaela, put a hand on his arm and said something to him, but he shook her off. "There's no way I'm spending another year in some rotting mansion, hidden away from the whole damn world. Not when a war is coming." With that, he shoved his way through the crowd, his feet kicking up a cloud of dust down the gravel driveway.

"Evan." Mrs. Casnoff's voice rang out, and this time, there was more in it than anger or irritation. It almost sounded like a warning.

But Evan didn't even turn around.

"What the heck is he gonna do, swim to the mainland?" I muttered under my breath.

By now, Evan had reached the thick wall of fog circling the house. He hesitated, and I saw his shoulders go up and his hands clenched into fists at his side, like he was trying to psych himself up. He raised a hand, and I saw a couple of sparks shoot from his fingertips. They died almost immediately with a faint popping sound, like a wet firecracker.

Next to me, Archer wiggled his own fingers, and the same thing happened to his magic. "No powers allowed, apparently," he murmured.

I looked back at Evan and thought that he'd probably come back now. Instead, he moved one foot into the fog.

For a moment, he stood there frozen, half in, half out of the gray haze. "What's happening?" Jenna asked. "Why isn't he moving?"

"I don't know," I said, and Archer slipped his hand back into mine.

That's when Evan started to scream. As we watched, the mist seemed to grow tentacles that wrapped around the rest of Evan's body. One shot out and grabbed his arms, swallowing them, as a second curled around his torso. A third wound its way sinuously around his head, and Evan's cry suddenly stopped. And then he was gone.

No one moved. I think that was the weirdest part, how there was no screaming or fainting. This was real. Evan was...well, if not dead, then gone.

Almost as one, the crowd of students turned back to face Mrs. Casnoff. I don't know what I expected her to say or do. Cackle, maybe. Or look down her nose at all of us and smugly declare, "I told him not to go."

But she was leaning against the porch rail, and she didn't look smug, or satisfied, or even grimly pleased. Just old and tired and maybe a little sad.

"Go inside," she told us listlessly. "Your room assignments are the same as they were the previous semester." There was another pause, and then, slowly, the students nearest the house began to shuffle up the steps.

"What do we do?" Jenna asked.

"I guess we go inside," I said. "It's either that or get eaten by fog. I think I'd rather take my chances with the house." We followed the crowd, making our way onto the porch. As we passed Mrs. Casnoff, I stopped. I wasn't sure what I wanted to say to her, or what I wanted her to say to me. I just felt like we should acknowledge each other in some way. But even though I stood just three feet from her, Mrs.

Casnoff didn't even glance in my direction. She stayed by the railing, taking shaky breaths, staring out at where Evan had disappeared. Finally, I turned away and walked through the front door.

From inside the house, I could hear gasps and muffled sobbing, so I braced myself for Hex Hall to be every bit as screwed up as the island.

I hadn't braced hard enough.

The first thing that hit me was the heat. Graymalkin Island was off the coast of Georgia, and it was mid-August, so it had already been crazy humid outside. But the house had always been cool and comfortable. Now it was stifling, and the air was almost too thick to breathe. I could smell mildew and damp, and the wall paper was peeling in places. The first time I'd been in Hex Hall, I'd thought it had looked gross and dirty. Then, it had been a spell making me see it that way. I didn't think that was the case now.

There was also something weird going on with the light. I remembered the main hallway as being well lit, but now it was so dim that parts of the room disappeared in the shadows.

I took a step forward, and something crunched underfoot. Glancing down, I saw that it was brightly colored glass. And then I realized why everything looked so different. The huge stained-glass window that had dominated the space was broken. It had depicted the origin of Prodigium, a huge sword-wielding angel kicking the three angels who would go on to become witches, shape-shifters, and Fae out of heaven. But now the avenging angel was missing its head and most of the sword, and there was a huge, jagged hole right in the middle of the other three figures. It looked like they'd been cut in half by something with giant claws.

For some reason, it was that shattered window that got to me. Apparently, I wasn't alone in that. A few feet in front of me, a group of four witches stared up at the headless angel, their arms wrapped around each other. "What is going on?" one of them wailed plaintively. No one had an answer.

Archer, Jenna, and I weren't exactly clutching each other and sobbing, but we were pretty shaken as we formed a little huddle. "Okay," I finally said. "Can we all agree that this is maybe the most screwed-up situation we've ever found ourselves in?"

"Agreed," they said in unison.

"Awesome." I gave a little nod. "And do either of you have any idea what we should do about it?"

"Well, we can't use magic," Archer said.

"And if we try to leave, we get eaten by Monster Fog," Jenna added.

"Right. So no plans at all, then?"

Jenna frowned. "Other than rocking in the fetal position for a while?"

"Yeah, I was thinking about taking one of those showers where you huddle in the corner fully clothed and cry," Archer offered.

I couldn't help but snort with laughter. "Great. So we'll all go have our mental breakdowns, and then we'll somehow get ourselves out of this mess."

"I think our best bet is to lie low for a while," Archer said. "Let Mrs. Casnoff think we're all too shocked and awed to do anything. Maybe this assembly tonight will give us some answers."

"Answers," I practically sighed. "About freaking time."

Jenna gave me a funny look. "Soph, are you...grinning?"

I could feel my cheeks aching, so I knew that I was. "Look, you two have to admit: if we want to figure out just what the Casnoffs are plotting, this is pretty much the perfect place."

"My girl has a point," Archer said, smiling at me. Now my cheeks didn't just ache, they burned.

Clearing her throat, Jenna said, "Okay, so we all go up to our rooms, then after the assembly tonight we can regroup and decide what to do next."