Chapter Three
"Why don't you make yourself useful and go spy on the Garglers?" Puck taunted on Wednesday during Glee practice.
Kurt just stared at him for several long moments. He didn't need this right now. He had enough on his plate. No matter how hard he tried, the damn stone object kept following him to school. "Fine," he said, tone exasperated. He grabbed his storyboards and stormed out of the room.
He knew it was too late in the day to go all the way to Westerville before they dismissed for the day, so had gone home and done some research online about the school. The more he read, the more intrigued he became, until he felt an almost unbearable pull to visit.
The next day he pulled together an outfit he hoped would pass for the uniforms the boys in the pictures had been wearing, and began the nearly two hour drive. As he entered the city limits of Westerville, the thought struck him that this was where that new kid, Trent, had said he lived before.
Kurt was suddenly full of a weird emotion he couldn't put his finger on, coupled with a distinct strong desire to reach the school as soon as possible. In the back of his mind, he couldn't shake the thought that Trent had something to do with all this, but why would he? The misprinted magazine popped into his head. If it hadn't been a misprint, how did Trent get a copy of it in the first place?
As the gates to the school loomed before him, Kurt had a sudden sense of deja vu. Had he been here before? If he had, he couldn't recall it. Maybe it was just because he'd stayed up late into the night studying everything he could about the place.
His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly, his knuckles were practically transparent. He didn't know why he felt so nervous, and yet, he also had never felt more at home. As he pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine, he glanced in his rear view mirror to make sure he still looked put together, and froze. Sitting on the backseat was the stone object.
Frowning, he covered it with the other jacket he'd brought with him, and pushed it down on the floor, out of sight. He had no explanation for any of the events that had occurred since he'd found the object, and knew he should feel terrified of it, but somehow he couldn't summon an ounce of fear.
Not wanting to give it the chance to miraculously jump into his hands or something, Kurt quickly got out of the car and shut and locked the door, turning to look up at the school building, which now surprised him up close. If he didn't know it was a school, that wouldn't have been his first thought about what the building was. A wave of jitters flooded through him and he unnecessarily straightened his tie before moving forward towards the building.
…
Wes frowned at the text message on his phone. He was in the middle of chemistry class (or potions, as the Circle jokingly referred to it,) and couldn't reply back to Trent right away. As soon as the bell signaled the end of class, he dialed the other boy's number.
"What do you mean, he never showed up?" he demanded.
Trent replied calmly. "I overheard one of the other boys from the Glee club say something about him being dared to go to Dalton and spy on the competition. It sounds like the spell worked more quickly than we anticipated."
Wes began pacing, running a hand through his hair. "Shit," he muttered. "Trent, the Warblers are not prepared for this sudden entrance. Granted, I don't think we anticipated it would have something to do with the Sectionals competition after all. What do we do?" If Wes had been a normal teenager, the Warblers would be much more put together and prepared to perform than they were. But he was not a normal teenager, and in truth, the Warblers were really just another coverup for the Circle. A more believable reason for why they all met in gatherings so often, so as not to draw unwanted attention from the normal human students.
"I don't see any other choice," Trent said, always the calm voice of reason. "If he left for Westerville first thing this morning, he is probably walking in the front door right now. I suggest you warn the others to be on the lookout."
Wes took a couple of deep breaths. "You said he looks like the spitting image of Ethan, right?"
"Just as you are the mirror image of Raymond, yes."
"Right, I'm sending a mass text now. That's the only way they'll get a heads up in time, if your assumption is correct and he is walking in the door right now."
…
Blaine was heading to study hall, moving a little slower than usual, still feeling a little weak and stiff from the dream the other night. It seemed to be taking him a lot longer than usual to recover this time, although at least the chills had finally receded. The other boys passed him on the stairs as if he were standing still, and he glanced down at his pocket watch, judging if he had enough time to sit on one of the couches lining the hall for a moment to rest before he'd be declared tardy.
"Excuse me?" a soft voice said from behind him, just as the phone in his pocket vibrated an incoming text. Blaine was torn between turning around and looking at his phone. It would be awfully rude to ignore the person. But before he could make a decision, they went on. "Can I ask you a question? I'm new here."
Blaine couldn't help the chuckle that left his mouth. "You just did," he teased, turning on the step and stopping in his tracks. Standing a few steps higher up the staircase, was the most beautiful boy Blaine had ever laid eyes on. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, suddenly forgetting his own name at that moment.
"Are you okay?" the beautiful boy asked, frowning slightly.
"Oh, yeah, sorry. I'm just getting over an illness, and felt a little light headed for a moment. I'm Blaine." He held his hand out to the auburn haired boy.
The boy smiled back at him serenely and took his proffered hand. "Kurt," he replied. Both boys let out a startled little gasp and pulled their hands back when what felt like a spark of static electricity shot through them when their fingers touched.
"What in the world?" Blaine said, staring at his hand in amazement.
"Have you been rubbing your socked feet on the carpet?" Kurt asked, staring at his own hand.
"I hate socks," Blaine replied. The two of them just looked at each other before they both burst out laughing.
"It's strange," Kurt said. "I feel like I know you from somewhere, but I can't put my finger on exactly where from."
"I know what you mean," Blaine said, biting his lip. "Except, I might have a better idea of why."
"Oh? Do tell, please."
Blaine regarded him for a moment. He didn't want Kurt to freak out. And he didn't want him to get the idea that Blaine already knew his last name, which he did. "Have you ever heard of someone named Ethan Hummel?" he asked carefully.
Kurt frowned. "My last name is Hummel, but I've never heard of any relative named Ethan. Is that someone you know?"
Blaine shook his head. "No. I'm not surprised that you haven't heard of him. Ethan Hummel disappeared in 1901, along with a relative of my own, Devon Anderson. So let me ask you this. Have you heard of a Matthew Hummel?"
Kurt began looking uncomfortable. "My great great grandfather was named Matthew. From the stories I heard about him, he was always angry, and refused to talk about his family, even to his wife and kids."
Blaine knew he should be going to class, but seeing as it was just study hall, he wasn't too concerned if he missed it. "Sounds about right," he said. "There's a lot you don't know, and I'm sorry if I might be freaking you out a little. Ethan was Matthew's older brother, and you Kurt, you look exactly like him. Just as I look exactly like Devon."
Kurt crossed his arms over his chest, feeling the rightness of Blaine's words, even though they sounded totally insane. Almost as insane as the idea that an inanimate object could be following Kurt wherever he went. And suddenly Kurt felt a weight settle into his messenger bag, and without even looking, knew the gleaming white carved stone had appeared into it.
The curly haired boy ran a hand over his gelled hair. "You, you probably think I'm crazy. And there's a lot more to it than that, but I really don't want to scare you off anymore than I might already have."
Kurt stood there in silence for a moment. "I haven't run away screaming yet. And if you think you sound insane, it's nothing compared to the insanity I've been feeling for almost a week now. So why don't you start explaining things?"
Blaine gestured for Kurt to sit with him on the nearby couch. "You said Matthew would never tell anyone why he was so angry. I know the answer to that question," he started. But before Kurt might have the chance to reply, Blaine's eyes suddenly widened, glowing gold and he went slightly rigid. "The fourth will complete the Circle and all will be revealed to heal the truth."
"What the hell?" Kurt gasped, jumping to his feet, just as an older boy rushed around the corner, sliding to a halt on the polished floor.
"Blaine?" Wes demanded, but Blaine didn't seem to hear him. He turned to the pale boy. "Did he say anything?"
Kurt was still stunned by the gold glow in Blaine's eyes. "What?"
"Blaine, did he say anything?" Wes said. Anyone who knew him could see that he looked troubled. This was the worst possible moment for Blaine to get a vision. The last thing they needed was for Kurt to run away from Dalton and never come back.
"He said something about the fourth completing the circle and healing the truth," Kurt said, not sure yet what was happening. Things took an even stranger twist when the object in his bag began making that noise again, the one that sounded like voices chanting in a language Kurt didn't understand.
"Well, that sums a lot of things up," Wes said. "Blaine just gave you a prophecy." He hesitated, hearing the voices. "Where is that spell coming from?" he asked.
Kurt looked even more confused. "Spell?"
"The voices, they're chanting an old spell," Wes said. "I'm one hundred percent certain we can find it in the grimoire."
"Grimoire?" Kurt said, still confused. The chanting from his bag grew louder. For a moment, Kurt was almost convinced the voice was his own.
"Witch's spellbook," Wes explained. His eyes fell onto Kurt's bag. "They're coming from your bag."
Kurt heaved a sigh and opened the bag. Before he could reach inside to lift the object out, it floated up, and hovered between the two boys.
Wes' eyes went wide as he took in the sight of the demon vessel, and he glanced back at Blaine. "How much did he manage to tell you before he had the vision?" he asked.
Kurt shook his head. "Not much. He said he knew why my great great grandfather was so angry and wouldn't talk about his family to anyone, not even his wife."
Wes nodded. "Matthew Hummel was a witch, Kurt," he said. "As was Ethan and their entire family line."
"Aren't witches women?" Kurt asked.
Wes chuckled. "Oh those gender stereotypes," he said. "Shall I continue?"
Kurt looked a little sheepish, and just nodded.
"When Ethan disappeared, Matthew was supposed to take his place in the Founders Line as one of the leaders of The Dalton Circle. Instead, he chose to shun magic and turn his back on it. He bound his own powers, and never breathed a word about his real heritage to anyone, including his wife and children. And yes, his children had magic too, but they never knew about it. The Hummel line's specialty is telekinesis."
Kurt glanced from him to Blaine, who suddenly slumped back on the couch, eyes rolling up into his head. Kurt rushed forward and put a hand on the shorter boy's temple. "What is happening to him?"
"The Anderson line's specialty is psychic ability and prophecy. Unfortunately, these gifts can come at a price physically, depending on the strength of the vision. If you're willing to stay, there's a lot more we should discuss."
Kurt was preoccupied with Blaine's well being for a reason he couldn't explain. "I'll stay, if only because I'm worried about him. But, I do want to know more."
Wes nodded. "And maybe all this will help us all figure out why that demon vessel is so attached to you."
Kurt thought that that was something he would really like to know, himself.
…
Wes put out a text for the rest of the boys to meet them in the chamber. He expertly carried Blaine as he led Kurt down into the sub-basements of the building.
"Where are you taking me?" Kurt asked, a little taken aback by the actual torches on the walls. Was Dalton part of Hogwarts then or something?
"To a place only few know exists in Dalton, the Sanctuary. We'll be undisturbed there."
"Are you sure I'm not imposing on your private chambers?" Kurt asked.
Wes stopped and looked at him. "Kurt, part of the reason for bringing you here is because all this pans out to the fact that you're supposed to be here. You are our missing Hummel Founder."
Kurt didn't understand what that meant, but the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs behind them cut off any questions he might have.
Wes opened the doors to the Sanctuary, a feat because he was still carrying Blaine. "Everyone, this is Kurt, please welcome him. Today's agenda is to fill him in on everything. Also, don't worry about Blaine. He had another vision."
Kurt felt a little uncomfortable as several of the boys seemed to look at him in awe, as if they knew him or something.
A dark skinned boy patted him on the back. "Welcome home, Kurt. I'm sure you have a lot of questions. I'm David. Please, make yourself comfortable." He led Kurt to one of the soft leather couches that lined one wall.
"Um...how do all of you like, know me or something?" Kurt asked, shifting from foot to foot.
"I promise everything will make sense in due time," Wes said. For good measure, he set Blaine down on the couch that David had led Kurt to. "You just keep your ears open and your eyes on this one, okay?"
Kurt nodded, glancing at Blaine, who had slid down so his head rested in Kurt's lap. He had the urge to brush the sweaty hair off the younger boy's forehead, but resisted it with so many of the boys watching him.
"First and foremost, welcome Kurt. It is a pleasure to have you here. Now, as I've already told you, your great great grandfather Matthew turned his back on magic after his brother Ethan disappeared. And just in case you don't believe me that you are Ethan's spitting image, David, would you show him the photograph please?"
David picked up the framed picture from the fireplace mantel and brought it over to Kurt. In the picture, which was very old, and in black and white, four young men stood side by side in front of what appeared to be the gates of Dalton. The two boys on the right, who looked exactly like Wes and David, were laughing at something unseen. The two boys on the left, who bore an uncanny resemblance to Kurt and the boy currently unconscious in his lap, were looking at each other with mischievous smiles on their faces.
Kurt stared at the photo in slight disbelief. He'd never seen anyone who looked so much like him. The weirdest thing was that he got most of his features from his mother, who wasn't a born Hummel, obviously. "How?" he asked.
"It's written in the founding lines' destiny," Wes said. "And part of a prophecy given by Blaine's great great grandfather Johnathan, who courageously stepped up to the plate when Devon and Ethan disappeared."
Kurt glanced around at all the boys before focusing on Wes. "I'm sure you can understand my skepticism when it comes to talk of witches and magic. Until today, I thought witchcraft was a myth."
Wes regarded him for a moment. "Can you tell me about your experience with the demon vessel?"
"You mean the stone thingy?" Kurt asked in confusion. When Wes nodded, he shrugged. "I found it last Friday evening while cleaning out the attic. It was hidden on top of some old boxes. I heard it fall when I fell and knocked the stack over. When I went to pick it up, it felt almost hot in my hands, but it also felt like…" He stopped, unsure how to explain it. After a moment he just shook his head. "It keeps following me. I left it home on Monday when I left for school, but then it showed up in my locker. And again today, I left it home, but it appeared in the backseat of my car. I left it there when I came inside, but as Blaine and I were talking, it was suddenly in my messenger bag."
Wes looked thoughtful for a moment. "As you might remember, I told you back upstairs that the Hummel line's special ability was telekinesis. I think that finding the vessel may have awoken your own magic, and you've been calling it to you."
Kurt looked back down at the object in question. Had he called for it? Not consciously, but ever since he'd found it, he'd felt very protective of it, and worried when it was out of his sight for long. "Why do you call it a demon vessel?"
It was Beatz who answered him. "It's a stone vessel specifically carved for the sole purpose of sealing a demon away," he said. "Normally, they're black. But yours is white, which means that someone has infused it with white magic, which might also be the reason why you're not frightened of it or worry that it will harm you."
Kurt was even more confused. "If my great great grandfather hated magic, and never spoke to any of his family about it, why was it in our attic?"
"Matthew received a mystery package from Ethan a few years after Ethan and Devon disappeared. He never told anyone what was in it. But I'm thinking it's very possible the demon vessel could have been what was in the package."
"Though we still can't figure out why it was sent to Matthew, or why he didn't just try to get rid of it, because he swore off that part of his heritage," David said.
"It's possible Ethan never even knew that Matthew had turned his back on magic," Thad suggested.
Kurt felt like they were missing a key piece of the puzzle, but wasn't certain what the puzzle was himself. "I think you all need to start at the beginning. Why did Ethan disappear? And what about this Devon guy?"
Wes stood and moved to stand in front of the Founders Table. "That's just it, we don't know why Ethan disappeared. The only thing the Circle has been able to conclude since then is that Devon's and Ethan's disappearances had something to do with the murder of Winston Nixon." He glanced around the room, seeing the nods from the other members of the Circle before he began to tell the story of all they knew from the beginning.
"On Halloween night, in 1901, Devon Anderson received a note he believed was from Ethan Hummel to meet him at midnight, as there was something he wanted to show him. Devon's younger brother had a bad feeling about the meeting, and pleaded with him not to go."
David interrupted to briefly add, "While all the Anderson men had the ability to prophesy, it was stronger in Johnathan than in Devon."
Wes nodded and continued. "Devon didn't heed the warnings, however, and slipped away to meet the other boy. Devon and Ethan were best friends. They had practically been raised together from the cradle. No one knows what exactly happened that night. There were signs of struggle, and the after effects of dark magic lingered in the air. The next morning, Winston Nixon was found dead below his bedroom window. The police ruled it a suicide, despite the fact that there were obvious markings on his body that showed he'd been in an altercation with someone. And Ethan, Devon, and Andrew Smythe had all vanished, as if into thin air."
"Andrew Smythe?" Kurt said. "Who is Andrew Smythe?"
Wes sighed. "The Smythe family was part of the reason the five founders sought refuge out of Europe. The Smythes were single-handedly responsible for one of the largest mass executions of witches in Europe. The five founders of the Dalton Circle managed to escape and reestablish grounds right here. But around the time the murder and disappearances took place, the Smythes were seeking to expand in North America. Unfortunately, my great great grandfather, Raymond Montgomery had no choice but to allow them to join the Dalton Circle on the pretense that Circle numbers were dwindling here in the States. After the disappearances, great great grandfather Ray was forced to banish Andrew's twin brother Charles from the Dalton Circle, as he believed they should be using their powers to control humans. My great great grandfather spent the majority of the rest of his life trying and failing to get the Smythes banished from the country."
"Okay," Kurt said, still confused about some things. "So, three men disappeared, and one man died, and somehow my family ended up with this demon vessel thingy. I don't understand what any of this has to do with me, other than the fact that I look like one of the missing men, and my great great grandfather hated magic."
Wes and David exchanged a look. "The same day that great great grandfather Ray banished Charles Smythe from the Dalton Circle, Johnathan Anderson prophesied that one day the fourth heir would return, but he wouldn't know his nature, until he reunited with the third heir. And only then, would the truth finally be revealed." He looked Kurt right in the eyes. "You're the fourth heir, Kurt."
"I kind of figured that out, but I don't know anything about Ethan and Devon's disappearance, or that Smythe guy, or who killed the other guy."
In his lap, Blaine began to mumble. "He's still here. He never left."
Wes' eyes darted to Blaine. "What do you mean he never left? Who are you talking about Blaine?"
Blaine just shivered and wrapped himself closer to Kurt's warmth. "The unexpected visitor. The unseen witness. And the demon master."
Wes and David exchanged glances, neither having the slightest clue what Blaine was even talking about. And both were quite sure the boy would not be able to elaborate.
Kurt, on the other hand, was having a difficult time stamping out the thrill that ran through his body when Blaine curled closer to him, a welcome momentary distraction.
Wes cleared his throat. "Kurt, the prophecy did say the fourth heir wouldn't know his nature, so we're not concerned that you don't know anything. I think it was trying to tell us that only when the fourth heir reunited with the third heir, in this case, Blaine, would we finally be able to learn the truth and solve the mystery."
Kurt was still looking down at Blaine, whose head now rested against his chest, and this time when the urge hit, he didn't resist brushing the hair from his forehead. "He's burning up. Is that usual when he has one of these...visions?"
"That, unfortunately, is a new mystery," David said. "Blaine usually suffers no effects from a normal vision like the one Wes says you saw upstairs. When he has a prophetic dream, he's usually really cold and has a massive headache, but that resolves after a few hours. However, he had one of those prophetic dreams Sunday night, or rather, early Monday before classes, and he hasn't been the same since. He didn't fully recover, and in fact, he has appeared to be getting worse. We've never seen it happen before."
"Could someone bring me a damp washcloth, and maybe a blanket?" Kurt asked.
"I'll get them," a voice said. Kurt was shocked to recognize it as Trent, the new boy he had met the weekend before. He hadn't noticed him among the sea of new faces. Kurt watched him exit the chamber, and then glanced back at Wes and David.
"So, if my line has Telekinesis, and Blaine's has prophecy, does that mean everyone's family line has some kind of specialty?"
Wes nodded. "Yes. Trent's is energy sensing."
Kurt nodded. "And yours?"
"Dream interpretation," Wes answered. "David's is creating spells, or reworking old ones. Beatz and Thad both have types of healing powers, although through different means."
"Nick and Jeff are both scouters," David said. "Which is why they do tracking work for the Circle. It's thanks to them we were able to find you."
Kurt glanced around at the other boys in the room, wondering what theirs were, but there were too many of them to think about at the moment, as Trent returned with the requested items. Kurt took the washcloth and wiped the sweat from Blaine's face, as Trent wrapped Blaine in the blanket. Blaine mumbled something else, his eyes opening briefly. The golden glow was still a shock to Kurt as they locked on to his glasz orbs. "The truth unspoken, the vow unbroken." And then Blaine seemed to settle into a deep sleep.
"What?" Kurt said, frowning. "What the heck is that supposed to mean?"
Wes was frowning as well. "Someone needs to write down everything he has said. If this were a dream, I could figure it out, but visions don't work the same way."
David quickly jotted down the vision. "Got it," he said.
Kurt was still frowning. "So, now what?" he asked.
Wes looked slightly embarrassed as he spoke. "We don't know. Prophecies are hard to interpret. Johnathan was never able to give us any more information about Devon, and it took our great grandfathers several years to figure out that the fourth heir referred to your line."
Kurt let out a sigh. "Where's someone with a specialty in deciphering visions and prophecies when you need them?"
That actually brought a laugh from several of the boys in the room.
"Unfortunately that is one power no one has ever developed," Wes replied.
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Of course. Because even witches can't have things be smooth sailing," he said.
Again the boys chuckled. "Yes, well, we now have the tools to solve the mystery, meaning you and Blaine, and I am assuming the demon vessel. We just have to figure out how to use them," Wes said.
"There is just one piece of official business we need to take care of before we can start cracking this case," David added."
"What is that?" Kurt asked.
"The initiation. If you agree to it, Kurt, you need to officially take your place in the Circle," David replied.
Kurt hesitated a moment. He didn't know any of these people, really. How could he trust them? But some little voice in his head was telling him to do this, that this was the right thing to do. Beside him, the demon vessel seemed to throb against his thigh, adding it's approval. "I'll do it."
"Excellent," Wes said. "Thank you so much Kurt. We need to do some preparations beforehand, but do you think you can come back tomorrow night? We should be ready by then."
Kurt glanced at his watch, shocked when he realized how late it was. His dad would be worried when he got home before Kurt. "I can try, but I might have to come up with some convincing excuses for my dad about why I skipped school today, and why I need to come back tomorrow night."
Trent spoke up just then. "Don't worry about that, Kurt. I can always vouch for you, if you need. As for tomorrow night, you can always say you have plans with friends. Friday nights are kind of important to teenagers." He winked at him.
Kurt briefly wondered if the other boy was flirting with him, and then remembered that he'd asked about Artie, and wondered if Trent was actually interested in the wheelchair bound boy, or if that had been a cover. He just nodded his head in appreciation of the offer. "Thanks. I really should get home now." Reluctantly he lifted Blaine's head from where it rested, and stood, gently lowering the smaller boy onto the pillow that had slid into place as Kurt moved.
"We'll see you tomorrow, Kurt," Wes said. "You aren't a Dalton student so you can't wear the traditional uniform, so just make sure to wear something nice."
Kurt scoffed. "I always wear something nice."