Who was the other witch Tamara had talked about the night before she left?
Nicole glanced at me from across the room, and I saw in her eyes what her psychic antennae had detected: me about to dive back into this unanswerable question instead of focusing on the duel taking place. I shook my head, reassuring her that I wasn’t going to go down that path—not while there was work to do. If Marie’s threat was to be believed, then we needed to step up our game.
All of us.
It was later, around lunch time, when Jared showed up at the mansion. I greeted him at the door with a peck on the lips and led him into the house, through the main corridor, and toward the room at the back of the hall. The room that used to be Remy’s office. I hadn’t set foot in it yet, not since he was alive. The room represented one of the only things about Remy Jackson that was still fundamentally his, and going inside felt almost like disrespect. But Jared was of the opinion that I needed to not only go inside, but start using it too; especially since I was the one running this school, now.
“If you don’t open it,” he said, as we stood by the door, “You don’t eat.”
My stomach grumbled. “That’s not fair,” I said, “I’m starving.”
“Then open the door.”
I stared at the handle. “Can’t we do this another time? I’ve got duels to oversee.”
“Nicole’s handling that, now stop stalling and open the door.”
I reached for the handle with a shaky hand, clasped it, and looked up at Jared. “It doesn’t feel right,” I said, “Maybe we should just leave it the way it is. Let this stay Remy’s office. I don’t need an office.”
“Open it, Madison.”
He wasn’t going to let it go. He hadn’t pushed me the last time I tried to open the door. It had been the night after Tamara left, and I couldn’t sleep. He had come down with me and sat with me for over an hour, mostly in silence, while I debated whether or not I was ready to see Remy’s things, smell his cologne, his cigars. I hadn’t known just how much of an influence he had been on my life until he was gone.
And it made sense, too. Remy had shown me the dark side of witchcraft as well as the light side. He was an example of what can happen to a witch who let the wrong ideas infect their mind, but he was also a beacon to those who thought there could be no redemption, no forgiveness, if it was truly sought. Remy was the yin and the yang, and he was taken before he could finish teaching me all the things I wanted to know.
Three, two, one… I thought, and after taking a deep breath, I pushed down on the handle and opened the door.
I was right about the smell. The smoky scent was subtle, but present, and strong enough that it almost made my eyes sting. Almost. I sucked it up and walked deeper into the room. Lines of light stretched from the window to the desk, illuminating the swirling, twinkling dust particles that had already accumulated inside since the last time the door was opened. The desk was covered in papers, but in an organized way. The top drawer on one of the filing cabinets lay open, as if Remy had been looking for something and forgotten to close it after. His leather office chair squeaked a little as I sat on it, but molded to the shape of my body quickly enough, becoming a comfortable fit.
Jared followed me in and sat on the chair opposite the desk. He pulled up a couple of containers of food and set them down on a clear spot, then started opening them in silence. He handed mine over, and I ate as I looked around the room. Remy was gone, but he was also very much still in here, a part of him living in every trinket, every little skull, every mask, even the desk itself.
Finally, I relaxed and exhaled, feeling as though a great weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
“You okay?” Jared asked, after swallowing a mouthful.
“I think so,” I said.
“It’s not so bad in here, is it?”
I shook my head. “I guess, after knowing him all this time, he kinda started to feel like part of the fabric of this city.”
“I get that. I wish there was something I could say.”
“It’s okay, You have to say anything at all.”
Jared paused and looked over at me, saying nothing for a time.
“What?” I asked.
His head tilted to the side. “What’s behind that door?”
My back stiffened, and I spun the chair around, my heart thumping at the realization that I had forgotten the door even existed. But there it was, the padlocked door I had seen only once before. I remembered the night I had asked Remy about it. We had come to his office after having just brought a cat back from the dead using blood magick. That same night I was later turned around and run off the road by what looked like some spirit of magick, or the rougarou, or some kind of demon, but the more I thought about it, the more I wondered whether I had actually come face-to-face with the witch Tamara had spoken about.
“I… don’t know,” I said. “Remy wouldn’t tell me what was behind it when I asked.”
Jared stood and circled around the desk, examining the padlock.
“No,” I said, sticking out my hand, “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t open it.”
“Why?”
“Remy didn’t want me to look inside. I feel like I should respect that.
“I understand,” he said, turning the lock over in his hand, “But Remy isn’t here anymore. This is your office, now, which makes that your room. What are you going to do, leave it sealed for all time?”
I couldn’t say I wasn’t curious about what lay behind it. Remy had been protective of its contents, but he was gone, and Jared was right—this house was mine. If I let that door remain closed right now, I would always wonder about it. And what if there was something back there Remy had wanted me to see? One final lesson for me to learn? Unlikely, but possible.
“I don’t have a key,” I said.
Jared arched an eyebrow. “Stop looking for excuses,” he said, “You’re a witch—unlock it.”
I sighed, stood, and grasped the padlock in both hands, feeling with my mind for its inner workings and asking them to turn for me. Click. The padlock came loose, and I was able to remove it from the door. Jared took it and set it down on the table, then turned to the door again. I had my hand on the handle.
“Ready?” he asked.
I nodded, then pushed the handle down and opened the door. It croaked, and the wood seemed to almost snap on its hinges as the thing moved. I thought maybe it hadn’t been opened in years, which only further added to the mystery of what was inside. But it was dark, and we couldn’t see anything.
“Lumière,” I whispered, and my right hand began to glow with soft, silver light, revealing a tiled floor and little points of reflected light.
“Creepy,” Jared said, his voice echoing slightly.