Page 21 of The Last De Loughrey Dynasty (The Legacy of Aquila Hall #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY

ARCHER

The stars drawing me towards the girl sitting in front of me was officially the worst thing they had ever done to me. They wanted the narrative they had already crafted for us to become reality, whatever the cost. I don’t think I’ve ever felt an emotion as torturous as longing.

Bloody fate.

Dorothee had gone through more than most people could endure without truly going mad, and all of this happened in the span of one night. But all the girl did was look at the world with curiosity. When one of my friends spoke, her eyes grew twice their size, and nothing else seemed to exist around her anymore. She seemed to starve for knowledge and took every crumb the universe offered her. Her reaction made me wonder if her parents had kept her locked up in a room, depriving her of freedom her entire life. It appeared as though she had made countless mental notes, observing each and every comment.

She gazed at me intently with her icy eyes as she waited for an answer.

I cleared my throat. “I hear the voices of the dead. My entire life I’ve listened to their cries of pain, their prayers for help. Most spirits don’t even realise they’ve passed away, you know? It’s terrifying to hear a child’s voice asking you to find their mummy or begging you to play with them because they’re so alone. I hold the belief that hearing them without seeing a body or a shadow was my personal hellfire.”

Dorothee narrowed her gaze, pity flickering in her expression. I knew she understood our pain. I’d read her medical records. We hadn’t been sure whether she had inherited the sight too, even though it had been rather obvious after she almost hurled herself off that balcony in her trance. It was necessary for us to be absolutely certain.

Dorothee De Loughrey saw the faces of the dead.

She’d been to five different therapists over the past ten years and stayed at a psych ward for two weeks at the age of fourteen. She had been prescribed several medications in an attempt to manage her psychosis. However, for obvious reasons, none of them had any effect other than causing her discomfort and fatigue.

Doe was seven when she first visited a psychologist. Too young for schizophrenia, but the signs were practically clear. She claimed to see people no one else could see—more terrifyingly, people covered in blood, describing wounds a seven-year-old shouldn’t even know about. At some point, she started to become more and more mute, and when she spoke, her words were often considered confusing.

They performed all forms of testing on her: no physical abnormalities, nothing of concern. However, her great aunt had a history of mental illness as well, so when there was no concrete evidence to fully diagnose Dorothee, and they grew desperate, they blamed it on a genetic disorder.

Every word describing her mind, except perhaps the fact that she had developed anxiety over the past years, wasn’t true. While these mental illnesses did exist, and people suffered from them each day, Doe didn’t have a single one of them. The hallucinations were simply spirits trying to plead for her help.

“But what is it about this place that makes us able to hear, see, and feel them when we weren’t born with the ability to do it all at once?” Dorothee asked, brushing her damp hair behind her ears. Most gingers I had seen were covered in countless freckles, but she had only six on her entire face. Odd in its own astronomical way.

Two under her left eye. One right under her left eyebrow. One on the bridge of her nose. Another two with more distance on her right cheek.

I wasn’t some sort of creep. It had simply been my responsibility to observe every detail about this girl for the past month. No one could hold me accountable for noticing her closely. Her beauty was undeniable. I wasn’t blind or ignorant enough not to see it.

Jesse shrugged, pushing his golden glasses into the correct position. “We haven’t found answers yet, but we reckon everything might have started here. Maybe with our grandparents… Perhaps centuries ago.”

Dorothee frowned, her gaze darkening slightly. I knew she wasn’t satisfied with that answer. “Have you ever tried asking your grandparents if they knew something? I mean, they certainly must have,” she said, nodding towards the diary of Naomi’s grandmother in front of her.

Naomi scoffed. “Go on, read through the pages. Half of them talk about how they had such a joyful life with one another, and the other half talks about how strange things started to happen that no one could explain. The rest of the pages are ripped out.”

For the past year, we had been trying to find these pages, with no success. We had concluded that they might have been destroyed completely after all. Something had happened in the year of seventy, and either our grandparents, or someone else, had been desperate to hide every detail of the events.

“When I was just a child, my grandmother tried to tell me about this place in bedtime stories. She taught me how to live with the sight.” Mai’s lips twitched to a little, hope-filled smile as she floated in her thoughts, her eyes unfocused for a moment. “Your great-aunt was like a sister to my grandma. She told me a lot about how they grew up together at Aquila Hall.”

Dorothee’s eyes lit up. “Did she tell you anything about why she died in that accident? I mean, if you’re all so sure that whatever happened to her and James wasn’t an accident, you need to at least know something.”

Against my will, my heart started to beat faster in my chest. I wanted to avoid this topic at all costs, but deep down, I knew I couldn’t. Fate always played into my cards. But I wasn’t fate’s puppet. If I had to participate in the awful destiny they had planned for me, I could at least play it my way.

“Read the last page of the diary,” I told her. When I first read those red-scribbled words, I had trouble sleeping for an entire week. When you live a life like ours, where you have trouble defining the words ‘reality’ and ‘illusion’, it’s not difficult to believe a piece of paper.

Dorothee flipped through the book and was struck by the words written in red ink.

History will repeat itself.

Find the book of shadows to save them.

– MHA

“Mairead Henriette Alderidge,” I deciphered the initials for her. “She’s Mai’s grandmother, who also possessed the sight. And since she saw it and not Callahan, who was Nathaniel’s grandfather, it’s a warning.”

She reread the words again before looking puzzled. “How can this possibly be a warning if we don’t know what happened in the past? Maybe it was—”

“Just a joke?” I finished for her. “Like the ghosts who tried to unalive you?”

Dorothee froze at that.

“So, your grandmother saw the future. What do you see?” she asked Mai, who shook her head, almost embarrassed. “The sight doesn’t work like that. I see fragments of the future, like pictures flashing in front of my eyes, but they don’t make sense to me. They’re like pieces of a puzzle I need to connect over time. Besides, I only see the nightmares waiting for us, while Nathaniel sees the dreams coming true. It’s as much a blessing as it is a curse for both of us.”

Mai reached for Nathaniel’s hand, which rested on the table. He let her take it, their fingers intertwining.

When I first realised the two of them were falling in love, I didn’t believe my eyes. I’d never imagined that the girl who cradled sunshine in the palm of her hand could fall for the boy who embraced the heart of the night. It was strange, and I’d threatened Nathaniel, warning him that if he was using her as a distraction, I’d make his life a living hell. Luckily, it never came to that.

In all the years I’d known Nathaniel, I could count on one hand the number of times I’d seen him genuinely smile or laugh. But now, it was as though Mai had shared a piece of her soul with him, brightening his every day.

“So, you basically know nothing?” Dorothee asked, causing Jesse to clasp a hand over his heart as though she’d wounded him.

“Don’t insult us like that, all right? We do have a few clues on where to start.”

“‘Where to start’ usually means you’ve got nothing so far,” she replied casually, poking the bear—in our case, a Care Bear.

Instead of responding, Jesse stood up and pulled his self-proclaimed detective folder from a drawer, placing it on the table in front of her.

“Just so you know, little miss ‘I’m smarter than all of you,’ the page you just read appeared the day you set foot in this school—which, for the record, was a month ago. Since then, we’ve discovered another prophecy from senior Mairead.” He opened the folder, showing her a tarot card with a message on the back that we’d found in Mai’s room two weeks earlier.

When we found the next note, we realised this wasn’t just a loose warning. In our lives, nothing was ever a coincidence.

Dorothee brushed her index finger over the tape we’d used to stick the warning page back into the diary. The page had fallen off the balcony that day, which led us to look up and see the spirits’ play with the red-haired girl.

No additional clues had been written on the page, but the next note brought new information. As always, the words were as cryptic as the Alderidge and McConnell visions, but it was something at least.

Mai had been searching for something her grandmother had given her to explain the note she left us. Her grandmother had handed down various tarot decks, but one in particular had always been too intense for Mai. The cards had been hand-painted by one of her ancestors, and her grandmother had sworn that Alderidge blood was worked into them.

On the back of the Moon card was another message, written and signed with MHA again:

Jewels melted ivory

Gift of peace born in rivalry

Cradled in the palms of the star's blood.

– MHA

“I know these circles,” Dorothee mumbled, tracing her fingers along the endless daisy wheels drawn on the card’s back.

“You call them daisy wheels or hexafoils. They were used to confuse and entrap evil spirits, often by witches,” Mai explained. “But I haven’t found a reason why my grandmother drew them on the back of this card. I just know it’s a warning. The Moon symbolises hidden enemies and darkness.”

Dorothee frowned, clearly deep in thoughts. “I’ve seen this symbol before, but I can’t remember where,” she muttered in frustration.

“Maybe you’ll remember in the morning,” I told her. “We’ll stay here tonight and figure out how to deal with it tomorrow.”

Her attention locked onto me. “What makes this place so much safer than the rest of the school?”

Naomi stood up from her seat beside me and knocked on the wall, where several portraits hung. She smirked before answering, “Because these walls are built from the same stone you’ve wrapped around your neck. That must have cost a fortune. Besides, most of the bookshelves have protection symbols carved into them. No spirit can set foot in our hideaway.”

“I honestly don’t think I’ll sleep after this evening. Can I just search through the library instead?” Dorothee asked.

Jesse grinned in response. “I’ll help you. To make it easier, I’ve written down a guide to the different genres in the library. It might look small, but it’s more extensive than the school’s library because of the variety.”

I can’t remember the last time I’d seen him this excited.

A dimple appeared on her cheek as she smiled tiredly. I was aware she had two, but only both showed when she smiled fully.

“You realise what this means?” I began. “You’re part of this now—this life, this legacy, of Umbra. ”

“Archer—” Nathaniel tried to cut me off, but I ignored him and continued.

“You need to work with us, whether you like it or not. I don’t trust you, but I’ve got no choice.”

Her smile fell, and she looked at me, almost challenging. “What if I don’t want to be part of this?”

She wanted nothing more than to belong, but I kept pointing out the dangers and the path this could take if we defied fate.

“Then history will repeat itself, and we’ll both follow the path of Dottie and James.”

She turned pale at my statement, but it was the truth. We had to work together, or we’d end up six feet under by the end of this school year. We’d tried to keep her out of this, to defy fate, to keep her close—but not too close.

Tonight had proven it wasn’t possible. The spirits would take her before history even had a chance to repeat itself if we didn’t assist her in safeguarding herself. Whatever force was working to fulfil this fate, we had no choice but to form an alliance. Otherwise, our fate was sealed.

“That won’t happen,” she said, shaking her head and pressing her lips together.

“Are you going to help us find the rest of the prophecies, uncover what happened fifty years ago, and locate the Book of Shadows to prevent the future?”

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I want you to teach me how to tell the difference between real people and spirits.”

I hadn’t expected her to ask for something in return. It wasn’t just my life that would be lost if she chose not to participate in this twisted legacy.

I nodded. “I’m spending the weekend with my mother and sister in London, but I promise to help you control the sight.”

Extending my hand across the table to seal the deal, I waited for her to take it. I wanted her as far from me as possible, but that wasn’t going to work. There were rules to follow, and avoiding Dorothee De Loughrey wasn’t an option.

She stepped closer and firmly shook my hand. Her touch sent a pang of longing through me, and it drove me mad.

What was it about this girl?

Dorothee let go of my hand and followed Jesse, who was already waiting for her at the door of the little library. He held it open for her, and as the door closed behind them, I kept staring.

This was a mistake.

I’d be her ruin.

I stood abruptly, trying to shake off the thoughts hammering at my chest.

“You can’t make her want you,” Mai said softly, her voice trembling.

I turned, looking down at her, her shoulder-length hair casting shadows over her face.

“What do you mean by that? I’m not trying to make her fall into bed with me,” I snapped, curling my lip in disgust at the thought of her believing so little of me.

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Then explain it,” I demanded in a low voice, mindful of the others behind the door.

“I saw it. I saw all of it. Nathaniel did too. He saw you and Dorothee dancing together in the middle of a storm, her—” Mai’s voice faltered, and Nathaniel stepped in.

“I saw your hearts beating for each other, Archer,” he said. “I saw you both clinging to each other at Gwyneth’s Lake. Everything starts tonight. This is the beginning of the end.”

Before I could respond, Mai spoke again, her voice laced with fear. “I saw you holding a dagger. I saw the Aquila constellation, and I saw Dorothee—covered in blood. You were holding her, and then you were screaming.”

Her dark eyes glistened, and unshed tears threatened to fall.

My heart raced, but I fought to suppress the panic rising within me. For so long, all I’d had was a single ominous sentence, a vague warning I’d dismissed. I never thought I’d have to face it until now—until she appeared. Until the fog began to lift and the puzzle pieces started to fit together.

“That’s rubbish! Archer isn’t a killer,” Naomi argued, her voice low but resolute.

I shook my head. “Your grandmother said there’s a way around this fate if we find the Book of Shadows.”

Nathaniel’s eyes met mine, filled with pain. “We’ll find this book, and we’ll stand by you, brother. You know that.”

I ran my hands over my face, sinking back into my chair and resting my elbows on my knees. “I don’t want Dorothee to know. It’ll scare her, and her fear might lead her into the spirits’ traps again. We need her to even stand a chance of finding this damned book.”

Restless, I stood once more and approached the photograph of James and Dottie hanging on the wall. Taking it down, I turned the frame over, removing the old picture and rereading the inscription on the back.

Aquila stood highest; the beat of the night painfully quiet.

The Kingstone heir holding her heart in the palm of his hand.

When morning came at the break of dawn, the last De Loughrey dynasty had fallen.