Page 20 of The Last De Loughrey Dynasty (The Legacy of Aquila Hall #1)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

DOROTHEE

I caught a glimpse of the room that lay within as the old door cracked open, and my breath caught in my throat. The hideout wasn’t particularly big, slightly smaller than the dorm rooms. An elegant oval wooden table with a large candlestick in the middle stood in the centre. There were six chairs around it, and at the very end, there were two familiar faces whose eyes wandered to us as soon as we walked in.

The delicate makeup on Maisie was scattered around her eyes, and the mascara was running down her cheeks in tear-soaked streaks. She sat in the chair at the end of the table next to a fireplace, and Nathaniel was kneeling in front of her, her hands held firmly in his own.

Nathaniel straightened when his gaze met mine, recognising who the person next to his friend was. His hands left his girlfriend’s, and she wiped away her tears, only for more makeup to paint her cheeks.

Before I was able to react, Nathaniel rushed past me and grabbed Archer by the hem of his shirt, slamming him against the nearest wall. A gasp escaped me, but I didn’t interfere. I didn’t know much about Archer and Nathaniel, so I didn’t want to join their fight. They could very well settle their dispute among themselves.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind, bringing her here?” Nathaniel practically spat in his face. His expression was a mixture of anger and… panic .

My cheeks burned in guilt as Archer had to face his friend’s wrath because of me. If I had known I was this unwelcome, I wouldn’t have followed him.

“I had no other choice,” Archer answered calmly, but his eyebrow twitched for a moment, as if he was questioning himself.

“We talked about this, and we all agreed that we wouldn't ever think about dragging her into this fucked-up world. But no, the little Kingstone heir never does what anyone tells him.” Nathaniel released his friend by pushing him against the wall once more. “If you don’t give me any good reason why you had to risk everything by showing a De Loughrey our world within the next ten seconds, I swear—”

“They tried to kill her,” Archer hissed at him, his voice lowering when the sound of a key switching the door open echoed through the room.

With time, I started to ask myself if everything happening right now was even real. I was shaking, but I wasn’t necessarily feeling cold. My mind wasn’t yelling at me for being such a stupid girl, following a group of people I barely even knew for a month into a hidden cellar where no one could find my body. Insanely, I was feeling excitement at the thought of something happening, of actions being taken in connection to the shadows that had followed me since childhood.

The consequences of my naive mind would most definitely hit me in the stomach as soon as I was down from my adrenaline high.

The door swung open, and Jesse positioned himself alongside Naomi in the doorway. Their expressions shifted when their gaze met mine.

“Bloody hell, I always miss the entertaining part,” Jesse muttered in disappointment. He gently placed his hand on Naomi’s back as he pushed her beside him in the room, then he pulled the door closed and locked it from the inside.

“I’m kind of nervous about the whole locking thing, I won’t lie,” I claimed nervously, but from the serious faces of everyone, including Jesse, who couldn’t say an entire sentence without including sarcasm or any other form of humour, it might be better if I held my peace until I knew enough to speak again.

Archer passed Nathaniel, willingly bumping his shoulder against his friend, before he walked over to a drawer, pulling out a box filled with clothes. Archer gave me sweatpants and a jumper with the school logo embroidered above the heart.

His gaze shifted from me to something lying behind me, and I turned around to see another door that was only leaned on. “For privacy, you can change in the library.”

There was another library underneath the official school library?

I was hoping to ask, but this was the less interesting question my mind held tonight, and all I wanted to do right now was get out of these wet clothes before I ended up ill for two weeks.

“I need help with my corset,” I mumbled. My voice sounded like it didn’t belong to me, and I felt fear creeping slowly under my skin. I had higher hopes that my adrenaline kick would last longer.

“I’ll help you, Doe.” Before I could even look into her beautiful face being painted in tears, Maisie intertwined her hand with mine, pulling me towards the door.

The library wasn’t big. It was by far the smallest library I’d ever seen. Even the one in my family's mansion had a bigger selection. The only thing I knew for certain was that these books must hold important value. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be hidden down here.

A candle was burning on the edge of one of the shelves, sparing us some light as Maisie unlaced my corset. I hadn’t realised it was laced this tight before.

“Why were you crying?” I asked her. This was hands down the easiest question I could ask her. There was no way I'd ask her anything different when I had to see her like that. I hadn't seen Maisie cry before, and she was so upbeat, it seemed like someone had ripped her heart out.

“I’ve been crying because the stars showed me the fate and destiny that I hoped we could change. I’m just… I held on to this hope and usually, when I’m telling myself that things will work out the way they have to, to make this life less miserable, the stars listen, and everything falls into place in the way that’s fortunate for us,” she inhaled sharply. “And it’s just so difficult to grasp that this time, there is nothing we can do.”

I felt my corset loosen, and I let it fall to the ground, not caring that I was only wearing underwear. I was able to take a deep breath for the first time after everything that happened tonight.

Maisie handed me the clothes, and I dressed in clothes that I was sure hadn’t belonged to a girl before they had been stored here. The jumper was big, but not too big for my liking. Large clothes gave me a form of comfort I couldn’t explain. I might’ve not been allowed to dress in clothes that weren’t my size at home, but I wasn’t at my family’s house, and it was what I needed right now.

Life was its own kind of hell when you constantly heard your mother’s voice in the back of your mind criticising your every step.

People like us don’t wear clothes that don’t fit us, my child. It’s a form of showing off our status, and there is nothing more important than having people know where you, and where they stand.

Pushing the cuffs of the jumper over my hands, I sat down on a stool while Maisie pulled out the dozen hairpins and worked on untangling the messy nest on my head.

I sighed before I took the strength to reply, “Fate doesn’t exist in my eyes, I just don’t believe that there is only one path everyone’s life has. There must be at least multiple paths because every little detail you change causes your destiny’s final fate to change. Isn't that the only logical answer? We’re the ones weaving our own destiny. It’s our responsibility.”

The fantasy books I read as a child always made me question the definition of fate. I had once read a book about a princess and her knight, doomed to die to be able to be together. They had seen their future through some magical mirror, and as a child, their story had made me terribly mad. The princess and the prince knew that their death would be caused by betrayal. But none of them tried to change what was about to happen to them by the end of the night. It was a horrible, heartbreaking story, but for me, it was a stupid one. The paragraph explaining that fate was written by the gods and the stars, and no human being could walk a different path towards happiness when doom was written in their future.

“Fate is a funny thing, Doe. I have seen things happen all my life. I have seen many ways to end up in the same situation over and over again. Attempting to change things will not prevent what is supposed to happen. I’ve tried to. I’ve tried so many times, and the one time I was able to… after so many failures, there is this fear in me that someday, even his fate will come true, and this time, I can’t protect him—” her voice broke in a pained sob. The sound of her pain physically hurt me.

My damp hair splayed out on my back, and I turned around a second later, pulling the girl in the angel costume close. Maisie no longer wore wings, which made it easy for me to close my arms around her small figure. I was afraid that I would break her if I hugged her too tightly in this state.

When she had stopped trying to inhale more air than her lungs could handle, her breathing turned regular again, and I whispered, “I’ll help you however I can, I promise.”

Maisie brushed her tears away as she pulled back. She wasn’t wearing long sleeves, so I stepped forward, gently cleaning her face with the cuffs of the jumper Archer had given me.

“Thank you,” she breathed, a quiet hiccup breaking her voice.

Giving her a gentle smile, I hoped that it might give her some sort of comfort.

“You have the ability to see the future?” I dared to ask her when tears stopped covering her cheeks and her eyelashes had dried up.

The answer seemed pretty obvious after what she’d just said, but I wanted to hear it for myself. I was curious if everyone in their friend circle was like me. How were they able to see things when others couldn't, and how did they end up here because no one believed them?

I wanted them to acknowledge that I was one of them. That we were the same.

Maisie looked like she was trying to find the right answer to my question. “I do have the ability to see. So does Nathaniel, but I don’t think you're picturing my ability right.”

I took her hands in mine, squeezing them once. “Then explain it to me. Please . You have no idea how long I’ve waited to find answers, to find someone similar to me.”

It sounded like a plea. Maybe I was begging, and potentially I’d even considered falling to my knees just to feel seen for once in my pathetic little life.

My roommate swallowed and lost hold of one of my hands before dragging me back to the room where the others were discussing matters, and from what I perceived, I was the matter. I grabbed the candle with my free hand and blew it out to prevent it from accidentally burning down the school because we forgot it in here. Maisie tends to forget she’d lit a fire, and I had to extinguish them on a daily basis by now.

Nathaniel, who was sitting on the armchair next to a painting on the wall and another small bookshelf, stood up in an instant when he saw his girlfriend return. He wasn’t running up to her, he was standing two solid metres away, looking at her closely.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked, his voice so soft, I’d only ever heard him talk like that when he spoke with her.

Maisie’s hold around my hand tightened slightly, and she surprisingly nodded. I knew she wasn’t better. It was more than obvious, and since she’s always honest in everything, I had just assumed that she’d tell the boy who means the whole world to her the truth.

Nathaniel stepped closer until he was right in front of her, sliding his hand around her waist, pressing her hips into him so he could lean down and place a kiss on her forehead. “I won’t leave you, Cara ,” he whispered, tilting her chin up to press his lips against hers with the faintest touch. “Not ever.”

Maisie nodded slowly, not looking like she truly believed him. I didn’t know what this conversation was about, and I certainly didn’t know what she meant by his fate. All I could do was hope that whatever scared my friend won’t ever come true.

“We have to tell her, it’s too late anyway, and she deserves to know as much as we do,” Maisie said out loud, cutting into the boys’ conversation.

Archer, who had changed into the same pair of clothes I wore, pushed himself off the wall he’d been leaning on. His hair was still a little damp, but his skin was dry, and all the fake blood had been completely washed off.

“We’re aware. If we keep this world from her any longer, we’ll end up in failure,” he agreed.

His eyes flickered from left to right for a brief moment before he closed them and inhaled deeply, pulling out one of the chairs placed beside the table. He sat down, and it was like a command to his friends, who followed suit behind him. For a moment, I just stood there, waiting until everyone had settled before I took a seat on the chair between Maisie and Jesse, facing Archer.

“Do you remember the word I explained to you the day you arrived?” He wanted to know.

Of course I remembered. I’d thought of him as some kind of madman trying to scare me away.

Frankly, that wasn’t entirely correct because the other thing I’d thought about him that day was interest. I didn’t know him, and I didn’t consider myself someone who developed feelings quickly or fancied people just because they were attractive, but I’d longed for him the moment our eyes met. Maybe, just maybe, I was drawn to him because he’d just saved my life. I think I’d read a study about that a few months ago.

That might explain why his touch felt divine on my skin.

“Umbra, the Latin definition of the dark centre of the eclipse shadow.” I had searched for the meaning of the word afterwards, even though Archer had already explained it to me. There could have been more behind that.

I craved knowledge more than oxygen. The devouring of knowledge was my own kind of addiction. Not being able to explain the shadows must have messed me up.

“I tried to figure out if you knew about this– about us ,” Archer responded calmly. “It was stupid of me to assume you did, to think for one second that you were her.”

I frowned. “Who do you mean by her ?”

He looked over at Naomi, who pushed her chair back and stood up. She then approached the shelf next to the armchair and grabbed one of the books lying on it.

Naomi let the book slide over the table, and I snatched it before it could fall off the other side.

It wasn’t a typical book. It was a notebook in a black leather binding. A surname was embossed in golden lettering at the bottom of the cover.

Minoru.

“That’s your name, right?” I asked, looking up at the black-haired girl, who nodded.

“It belonged to my grandmother. Open the first page and look at the picture,” Naomi commanded, and I did as she said.

On the first page was a picture glued onto the paper beneath it. The image showed seven teenagers our age standing beside each other. I recognised the building behind them as the front of Aquila Hall.

On the left stood a Japanese girl wearing smart clothes and… gloves. Just like Naomi always did. Which made it obvious to me that this woman must have been her grandmother. She had her arm around the shoulder of a boy with chestnut hair and a bright smile. He reminded me of Jesse a little. Wait, was he Jesse’s grandfather?

Next to them, a little further away, stood another boy in a brown suit, but where his face had been, there was a hole burned into the picture. I assumed that friendship didn’t last…?

In front of the two boys stood a small girl with wild white-blonde hair. She had her pinky entwined with a boy who stood diagonally behind her. He looked similar to Nathaniel, with a few differences in his features and the fact that he had light-brown hair instead of dirty blonde.

Next to him stood another boy with midnight-black hair and a face that screamed mischief and chaos. He had his arms around a girl who stood in front of him. My mouth fell open in shock when I looked closely at the girl with red hair who wore my face. It wasn’t just the similarities we shared. She was my mirror image.

Perhaps I was hers.

I had seen her before in my room a couple of weeks ago.

“You look exactly like her. Even the birthmark on your neck is the same, just mirrored,” Archer told me. I noticed that the bottom of the page contained a date: nineteen seventy.

That was impossible. It had to be. Or else…

“My grandmother has blonde hair, just like my mother, and she was only twelve in the seventies.”

An image flashed before my eyes of two children running through the woods. A girl with vivid red hair ran away from me to our hideaway at the lake.

Dottie.

When I relived Gwyneth’s death, I saw her. The image of a girl who looked exactly like me.

“I once had a friend whose name was Dorothee,” Gwyn had said the day I’d met her at church.

She had always called me Dottie because it was her nickname for the girl in the picture.

Oh my God.

“She’s your grandmother’s oldest sister. Dorothee Odette De Loughrey the first.”

“She’s the woman I’m named after,” I concluded. My grandmother had always loved to tell me tales about her sisters. There was Peggy, her older sister, who bought her a sweet treat every day on her way home from school. Peggy adored the thought of freedom and decided to travel once she finished her education. Our family had enough money to give her this chance, but her father hadn’t been happy about his second-oldest’s decision. He wanted her to live the life their mother had: staying home to raise the children and look pretty in pictures. So Peggy ran. She took the money and disappeared, leaving her family behind.

Margaret “Peggy” De Loughrey died two years after I was born, leaving nothing behind. No husband, no children, but a fulfilled life she’d lived in happiness.

Then there was my grandmother’s oldest sister. She had always told me stories about the woman I’m named after, but I had never seen a picture of her before. Dottie was the miserable sister with too much fantasy, which ended up getting her into trouble. My mother had always used her story to try and scare me. She’d even gone so far as to tell me that my psychosis might be genetic.

That’s why I never understood why she named me after her, if she was so afraid I might turn out to be as mentally ill as her aunt was.

“She died a few weeks before her eighteenth birthday in an accident. It must have been only months after this photo was taken.” My grandmother had told me about her pain of losing both of her sisters and how she’d been so alone after Dottie’s death because she’d always looked up to her eldest sister.

Archer leaned forward and pointed his index finger at the black-haired boy who had his arms around my grandmother’s sister. “That’s James Kingstone. He was my grandfather’s twin brother and died the same day she did. It had allegedly been a car accident.”

I looked into his hazel eyes and saw that he was already gazing at me. “Allegedly?” I realised his choice of words. “That means you don’t believe it.”

“No, there’s so much more to their story.” Archer stood up and pulled something out of a drawer, laying it down on the table.

It was a portrait of Dottie. Her hair was pulled back in a low bun, and she’d cut bangs in this picture. Her smile was honest and full of happiness. My eyes fell to the stone around her neck.

Black tourmaline.

“She saw them too?” I wondered in a whisper, drawing my index finger over her face. My face.

“You inherited the sight from her. We all inherited the gifts passed along our bloodline. Including their legacy. Their secret little society living in the eclipse of the shadows.” He was talking about this. About Umbra.

“Our gifts are unique, but at Aquila Hall, they allow us to look past the veil between the living and the dead. Why that is, we don’t know,” Naomi told me. With graceful movements, she removed her gloves from her hands and neatly folded them before placing them in front of her.

“Outside this building, I feel them. Their pain and sorrow. I feel how they felt the moment they died. My touch is a curse to no one but me. The gloves helped me growing up. Because what I couldn’t touch, I couldn’t feel,” she elaborated, and if I wasn’t mistaken, I could hear the pain of what came with her ability in her voice.

I remembered the day after my arrival when she had asked me why I was here, and when I hadn’t answered, she told me her story. That day, I’d believed she’d been mocking me.

Jesse laid his hand on her shoulder, but Naomi shrugged him off. He looked hurt, but he overplayed it by leaning forward in his chair and looking at me. “I can see shadows. In my opinion, it’s the fanciest version of the sight—”

“You cried yourself to sleep during your first month at Aquila because of them,” Nathaniel reminded him coolly.

“Yeah, uh, well, but when I say I’m haunted by shadows it makes some people think I’m some sort of half-god and Hades’ son. It’s pretty cool to play into their fantasies. Anyway, Aquila helped me see the spirit who the shadow belonged to. This scared me—like a lot—but it made me feel less insane.” There was something about Jesse’s way of speaking that made everything sound like life was a joke to him. Even right now.

It was honestly pretty interesting. I had never met a person like him before. The world I grew up in was always so serious and dull.

I turned my head to look at Archer, who was playing with his crystal ring. His hands were made to wear jewellery. Slender, rough, and attractive. It appeared I had nothing better to do right now than appreciate the hands of a boy who didn’t even like me.

If I just knew what it was with him.

“What’s your ability outside these walls?”