Free Aldwyn's Academy by Nathan Meyer Page A

plateau now.
    It had been one thing to be attacked on the road leading up to the academy, but quite another to discover they were now openly stalking the grounds.
    Dorian felt torn.
    He wanted to flee, to find a professor and tell them what he had stumbled upon, but now he knew that whatever Helene was doing, she had to be in danger and may not even realize it.
    Or she was a part of it. He began running faster.
    He made a sharp u-turn in the maze and emerged into the center of the labyrinth.
    Reaching the edge of the hedge structure, he sawa perfect square of groomed lawn. In the middle sat a circular, stone well.
    The magic emanating from it ran powerful enough to freeze Dorian in his tracks.
    A ghostly groan wafted out of the well in echoing tones like smoke up a chimney. This well had not been placed or created to satisfy any healthy thirsts.
    The well was haunted.
    But why would it be here? he thought wildly. Despite the bitter chill his body broke out in sweat.
    His lips trembled as he pushed forward a single step. He looked over his shoulder but it was too late to go back. The maze had shifted, leaving him only a path forward into the center.
    Dorian stepped out onto the snow-covered lawn.
    He suddenly recalled the last spell he had copied down for the furious Professor Fife. A moan whispered on the chill breeze.
    His wand came to his hand. He traced a circle in the air, touched the tip to his heart, and the words of the spell immediately fell on his lips.
    Nothing happened.
    The hair on the back of Dorian’s neck rose. What now?
    His throat grew tight and thick as he tried to swallow, the pit of his stomach became an icy hole.
    With each step he took, the tone of the ghost’s voice shifted.
    Moan became wail. Wail merged into scream.
    He stopped halfway to the cistern, his fear finally freezing him.
    How did Helene get past this? he wondered.
    Maybe there’s a trick she knows, or maybe she didn’t have anything to fear. His mind trailed off as he considered the grim possibilities
that
suggested about the haughty elf girl.
    The wailing scream started from a distance but came echoing up out of the well, rushing closer and closer. The piercing sound drove Dorian to his knees on the snowy grass.
    Desperate now, the boy jerked his wand hand about, making the motions again with the baton.
    The ghost shot up out of the well.
    Dorian squeezed his eyes shut and shouted out the words of the spell.
    It had to work.
    It had to.

Chapter 18
    A shield of energy shimmered out of Dorian’s wand, forming an invisible dome around him.
    Dorian could still hear the ghost’s horrific scream, but it was muted now, like the sound of surf in a shell. The smell of rot and dirt wafted into his nose. It was the smell of an open grave.
    Dorian opened his eyes and stared at the horror in front of him.
    The ghost’s face hung framed by tangles of long gray hair, like a nest of snakes. Her nose was a hatchet blade over a mouth filled with what looked like blackened needles.
    Her eyes were nothing but empty holes.
    In an instant the banshee began to grow larger and larger until it hovered above Dorian.
    Within the folds of the banshee’s body, Dorian saw tiny human faces stretched and screaming so that their cries folded into the banshee’s own.
    Dorian’s Shield spell clung stubbornly, fighting to keep the ghastly thing at bay.
    The protective bubble numbed the chill of death and muted the screams of terror, but Dorian still trembled.
    Closer and closer the banshee pushed against the mystical Shield and inward toward the cowering boy.
    In that instant the most unexpected of things happened.
    As the will of the banshee’s necrotic energy pushed against the stubborn form of his defensive shield, there came a voice neither horrid nor deadly.
    “Precious child.”
    It was the voice of a mother interrupting a child from a nightmare. Looking up, Dorian no longer saw the hideous countenance of the angry ghost. What he saw instead was just as