Chapter Four

Kurt glanced around surreptitiously as he slid the vessel into his locker Friday morning. He figured there was no use leaving it at home if it was just going to keep popping up wherever he was.

"Hey, Kurt," Trent said, stopping a couple feet away. "Just thought you would like to know, Blaine is still sleeping it off. Wes is worried about him."

Kurt frowned, feeling a bit pained by the news. "Is he going to be okay? Are you guys doing anything to help?"

Trent shifted a moment and reached out a hand to place on Kurt's shoulder, glancing both ways and leaning a little closer so he could talk quieter. "David thinks they need to call in someone to check for traces of dark magic. None of this has happened before to any of the Andersons. It might be the only explanation for why it's happening now."

Kurt sighed. "I feel like I should be doing something to help him. And I kind of think I may be part of what is causing whatever it is Blaine is going through."

Trent took a step closer, absently running his hand soothingly over Kurt's arm. "I don't see how that can be possible, unless you have been secretly practicing dark magic."

"I didn't even know I had light magic! Why would I be secretly practicing dark magic? I mean, Blaine seemed fine when I first met him."

"That's just it," Trent said, squeezing his arm gently. "He wasn't alright. Blaine has been in a downward spiral since that prophetic dream he had at the beginning of the week, and that was before you even knew about him."

Kurt opened his mouth to reply, but never got the chance as he was roughly shoved forward, his shoulder and the side of his face colliding with the edge of his locker.

"Look what you've done, homo. Your faerie dust has drawn more of your kind, and now it's spreading!" Karofsky snarled, grabbing Trent by the front of his shirt. "We don't want you fags here!"

Trent looked the jock dead in the eyes, not showing even the slightest hint of fear. "May the Goddess punish you for your wrong-doing," he said.

"Leave him alone, Karofsky!" Kurt shouted. The jock turned to perhaps pummel the boy some more, but he suddenly found himself tripping over his own feet and falling to the floor.

As several other students looked on in stunned disbelief, Trent grabbed Kurt's hand and pulled him away, down the hallway and into the boy's bathroom. "Take a deep breath, Kurt. Your magic is like a muscle, it takes exercise to control and strengthen it."

Kurt stared at him for a long moment. "Are you saying that I made him fall?"

Trent smiled at him. "I don't see any other telekinetics around here. Your magic perceived you were in danger, and acted to protect you."

"I...I didn't know I could do that. But, what was that you said to him? About the Goddess punishing him?"

Trent frowned, having forgotten Kurt knew absolutely nothing about his heritage. "Witches believe the Goddess and her consort created us to be the protectors of nature, and of those who have no power." He paused as a thought occurred to him. "Well, most of us, anyway. There are some, such as the Smythes, who think we were given these powers to rule the humans and to be worshiped as deities."

Kurt looked contemplative for a moment. "So, what does telling him what you did exactly do to him?"

Trent grinned. "It's an old saying among our people. It's basically the equivalent of telling him to go to hell."

The fair skinned boy snorted. "That oaf is too brainless to pick up on that."

Trent laughed. "Come on, you don't want to be late for class."

"You aren't really a new student here, are you?" Kurt asked. After seeing him at the gathering the day before, he was almost certain that Trent was at McKinley on a mission rather than having just transferred.

"I came to keep an eye on you," the cherubic teen said, putting an arm around Kurt and escorting him to his first class. "We had to be certain you were the one."

"How many possibilities could there have been?" Kurt frowned.

"Well, there were at least five in the state of Ohio, but twenty-seven Hummels under the age of thirty, and over two hundred in the world total."

"Oh," was his reply. "Well, thanks for walking me to class. I'll see you later tonight?"

"You bet!" Trent grinned. "Looking forward to it."

"Wanky," Santana muttered as Kurt slipped into his seat next to her.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "What are you fantasizing about now, Satan?" he said.

"You and your new boy toy. He's cute, in a guppy kind of way."

Kurt raised an eyebrow in confusion before he realized what she meant. "Oh my Gaga!" he said, smacking his forehead. "Trent and I don't have a date, if that's what you thought. He invited me to join his...Magic the Gathering league."

The Latina snorted. "Is that what they are calling it these days? I thought the line was 'come over and see my etchings.'"

The pale boy groaned. How in the world could he both convince Santana it wasn't a date, and not tell her the actual truth. Well the magic the gathering thing was true, just not in the card game way. He decided the best way to handle her was to simply ignore her.

Of course that turned out to be the wrong idea, he realized later as Mercedes dropped her tray across from him at lunch. "Spill it, white boy! What's this I hear about you having a new boyfriend? Why haven't I heard anything about this until now? Last I heard you were still crushing on Sam."

Kurt groaned, tempted to slam his head on the table. "First of all, why the hell would you believe Santana of all people? There is no boyfriend! She overheard the end of a plan I was making with someone and misinterpreted it. The new kid invited me to check out his Magic the Gathering group. I know I don't play, but I just wanted to be polite. Besides, I think he's interested in Artie."

Mercedes almost choked on the tot she had just popped in her mouth. "Artie?"

"Trent showed up at my house Saturday morning. He had a magazine that had been delivered to his house by mistake. He asked me if I knew the kid in the wheelchair and when I asked if he'd met him yet, he told me he thought he was cute."

"What did you tell him?" Mercedes asked.

"I said I wasn't sure if Artie played for his team or not."

"Now that you bring it up, Artie is really a big question mark, kind of. After knowing you, I feel like I can see it more, if that makes sense."

Kurt raised an eyebrow at that. "Your gaydar is improving?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't notice anything until you brought it up, so maybe not."

He laughed. "If and when I get a boyfriend, you will definitely be the first to know, right after my dad."

"I better be, white boy," she teased, trying her best to give him a menacing grin.

…

Wes paced the room as he listened to Blaine's uneven breathing. He'd called Blaine's father and older brother, asking them for any advice on the boy's condition, but neither of them had known what to do. He could only think of one other person who might be able to help. Reluctantly he dialed his phone.

"Things must be dire for you to call me, Montgomery," said the voice upon answering the phone.

"Yes, well, if I had any other choice I would delete your number entirely. We have a situation, Hunter."

"What kind of situation are we referring to here?" the other boy asked, tone suggestive of the expression on his face. There was a whistling sound as he blew on the espresso that had just been brought by one of his servants.

"The kind that may involve dark magic. One of my brothers has been growing weaker by the day since having a prophetic dream on Sunday night."

Hunter set his cup down without taking a sip. "Anderson?"

Wes sighed. "Yes. We've never seen anything affect him like this. I've already spoken to his father and Cooper, and neither of them have ever experienced it either. Which is why we think dark magic might be involved."

Hunter was contemplative for a moment. "But how? Didn't the founders instill a powerful magical barrier to guard against the infiltration of dark magic around the school?"

The Asian boy ground his teeth, not wanting to admit to this man the truth. "We have reason to believe the Smythes disabled or damaged it during their brief time here."

"Smythe?" Hunter sounded slightly alarmed and sat straight up in his seat. "That family is bad news. Even to the likes of me. I would say Sebastian's intentions are almost identical to Andrew's."

"Sebastian?" Wes said. "Is he the reason Thomas Smythe was negotiating with my father?"

"Most likely," Hunter said. "You need to be really careful of Sebastian, Montgomery. It's no secret that the Smythes have been trying to recover their reputation in the last decades. Only about half the family is still corrupt. But Sebastian's made it his mission to change that."

"Trust me, his reputation precedes him. But about Blaine…" Wes redirected the conversation.

"Apologies," Hunter said, not sounding very apologetic at all. "Proceed."

"Well, as I said, he had a prophetic dream Sunday night. Well, early Monday morning, I guess, and as usual he became chilled and had a headache when he woke. But the chills lingered longer than usual, and he was still stiff and sore on Tuesday. And then on Thursday, he had a vision, which usually has little effect on him, but he passed out afterwards, and other than a few lucid sentences, he hasn't woken up since."

Hunter was quiet for several long moments. "Can you tell me anything about these lucid sentences?" he asked.

Wes didn't completely trust the other man, and he hesitated before speaking again. "He mentioned something about a truth untold, and a vow unbroken." He didn't mention the parts about an unseen witness and the rest.

"Hm," Hunter said. "It's possible someone in the vicinity could be attempting to weaken him. But that would mean someone has some sort of use for Blaine they believe he wouldn't just agree to on his own. Any outsiders enter your Circle recently?"

"No," Wes replied. Kurt was not an outsider.

"Then I'm afraid we have no choice. I have to come by and do a full investigation of the area."

Wes had known that was a possibility. "Fine. But we check your other magic at the door."

Hunter sounded bored when he replied, "Montgomery, you have my solid word that there will be no funny business during the investigation. My goals are to collect dark magic, not use it where it is not justified."

"There is never a justification for using dark magic, Hunter." Wes hung up without waiting for a reply, and immediately dialed David. "We have a problem. We may need to move Kurt's ceremony until later tonight. Hunter is coming to examine Blaine."

David frowned. "We can't ask Kurt to come later, Wes. Lima is two hours away. Having him come this evening is already pushing it. Unless he can swing telling his dad he's staying at a friend's house tonight, he's not going to buy them hanging out that late."

Wes frowned as he paced the room again, thinking. "Call Trent and tell him he needs to convince Kurt's dad to let Kurt visit Dalton for the weekend. Make up some kind of excuse about an open house or something."

"Kurt's dad doesn't even know Dalton exists. We can't just randomly invite Kurt to an open house for a school his dad has never heard of."

"I said make something up, David! If an open house isn't plausible, think of something that is!" He hung up once more without waiting for a reply, immediately regretting snapping at his best friend. He took a few calming breaths.

"Wes?" Blaine's voice was slurred and weak.

Wes looked over at him. "Blaine, you need to save your strength," he said, sounding tired and defeated.

"Thirsty," the younger boy said. "Hungry. Head hurts."

"I can have Thad bring up something. But I'm not leaving you right now."

Blaine frowned, blinking up at him. "Was it a dream? Did Ethan return?"

"What?" Wes asked, sounding even more concerned. "No, Blaine. You were fully alert when you met Kurt. Don't you remember? He came to Dalton yesterday and then you had a vision and you've been completely out of it since, aside from a few lucid sentences."

Blaine's frown deepened, but he seemed a little more awake now. "What did I say?"

"Something about an unexpected visitor, an unseen witness, and the demon master, and then you prophesied about an unspoken truth and unbroken vow."

The dark haired boy struggled to sit up. "Where is Kurt now?" He fell back against the headboard as the room began to spin.

"Back in Lima. But he's supposed to come tonight for the ceremony. He's accepted his rightful place in the founders line of the Circle."

That news seemed to bring some color back to Blaine's face. "Is he transferring to Dalton, then?"

Wes' eyes got wide. "No, Blaine. That's thinking too far ahead of the curve. Kurt's dad doesn't even know Dalton exists."

The color drained from the boy's face. "He must come to Dalton, Wes. He is in danger if he doesn't transfer!"

"What do you mean he's in danger?"

Blaine shook his head. "I don't know. It's not a vision or prophetic dream, I just feel that the longer he is away from Dalton, the more his life is in danger."

Wes sighed. "Blaine, we can't just tell his dad Kurt's in danger and give him no explanation of why or how we know. That won't work."

"We have to figure something out. There is a malevolence that is after him."

"Blaine, I can't help you if you don't tell me where this is coming from or why you feel this way."

"I don't know!" Blaine shouted, or attempted to in his weakened state. "I think it has something to do with the demon vessel." He shook his head. "No, that's not it, not exactly. I think that whatever happened to Devon and Ethan is about to be repeated, and the vessel is the key to stopping it."

Wes stared at him for a very long moment. "Blaine, if you think what happened to them is about to be repeated, that doesn't just put Kurt in danger, but you too."

He looked up at the older boy, a faint golden glow in his hazel eyes. "It may already be too late for me."

…

"Look, Trent, I don't know how to do it. Wes just said to find a way to convince Kurt's dad to let Kurt stay at Dalton for the weekend. He doesn't want Kurt coming as early as planned because Hunter Clarington is coming to investigate Blaine's sudden illness." David was so frustrated he'd be pulling out his hair if he had any.

Trent wasn't dumb. He knew that Wes had told David to figure something out, and that the older boy was foisting it off on him. "Fine, I'll come up with something, Thompson. But next time Wes gives you a task, do it yourself."

"Hey, don't pin this all on me. Wes did tell me to tell you to convince Kurt's dad to let him stay here for the weekend. I tried to tell him that was a moot point because Kurt's dad doesn't even know Dalton exists. And then he yelled at me to figure it out and hung up."

"My point exactly, David," Trent said. "He told you to figure it out." He hung up and turned towards the choir room where he knew Kurt would be coming out of at any moment.

Kurt was laughing at something Mercedes was saying as he exited the choir room. Santana was right behind them. "Get some, Hummel!" she called, when she spotted Trent waiting outside the room.

"Not a date, Satan!" Kurt called back without looking at her.

Trent smiled politely at Kurt, even as his eyes seemed to dart past him as he spotted Artie rolling out the door with the goth Asian girl and the tall Asian boy. Artie glanced in their direction curiously, and smiled at Trent.

"Hi, Trent," Kurt said. "This is my friend, Mercedes. Mercedes, this is Trent." He turned and looked back at the cherubic boy. "Your friends in the league know you're bringing me tonight, right?"

Trent pulled his eyes away from the brunette boy in the wheelchair and back to Kurt, looking momentarily confused, and then seemed to catch on. "Oh, yeah, but we need to stop by your house real quick. I think I may have dropped something there when I stopped by on Saturday."

It was Kurt's turn to look confused for a moment. "Oh, okay. I need to figure out what I'm wearing anyway," he said.

"Wanky!" Santana said as she strolled by with Brittany.

Kurt gritted his teeth, trying to keep in the retort for the Latina. Instead he kept his focus on the other. "Sorry, she overheard us parting ways earlier and now she's convinced we're dating."

Trent's eyebrow shot up. "Oh, well, no offense, but you're not exactly my type," he said loud enough for Santana to hear.

"None taken," Kurt replied. "You're not exactly my type either." Though the end of his sentence trailed off as a dreamy image of Blaine popped into his mind.

"Keep trying to convince yourself, Hummel," Santana called back.

Kurt rolled his eyes, practically in unison with Trent, which caused Mercedes to laugh. "Yeah, you two are too much alike to be into each other."

"Thanks, Cedes. Come on, Trent, let's go before Santana starts playing strip tease music."

"Oh no," Mercedes said. "The last time she did that half the male population was clogging up the bathrooms and Figgins did nothing about it!"

Kurt laughed and gave her a parting hug before following Trent out to his car. "So, what do we need to get at my house?" he asked.

"Your dad's consent for you to stay at Dalton for the weekend. Wes had to push the ceremony back later tonight because of some business involving Blaine."

Kurt frowned and slid into Trent's BMW. "What business involving Blaine?"

Trent sighed. "Well, Wes has called in Hunter Clarington to look into the possibility of Blaine being harmed by dark magic. Hunter's special ability is to sense and collect dark magic. Wes would rather forget he existed than ask for his help if he could. That should tell you just how concerned he is."

Kurt looked confused. "Why would someone want to hurt Blaine with dark magic?"

"I don't know," Trent said, pulling out of the parking lot. "It could be any reason. Hell, for all we know, it could be connected to Devon's disappearance."

Kurt sat back in his seat and stared out the front window. Everything seemed to revolve around the disappearance of those two men, but why? "Stop!" Kurt said suddenly. "I need to go back to school! I forgot the demon vessel in my locker!"

Trent glanced at him. "Why don't you just summon it?"

Kurt felt sheepish as he replied. "I don't know how?"

"You mean you don't know how, consciously," Trent corrected. "Let us keep going and try not to think about it so much. We'll work on your ability to consciously summon stuff later."

The auburn haired boy sighed. "How long did it take you to learn to control your powers?"

Trent shrugged. "I was born with my magic, so I learned fairly young how to control it. Your powers were bound before you were even conceived, and you had no knowledge of them, so it will probably take you longer to learn every nuance of them."

Kurt sighed yet again. He felt like punching something but refrained. "I wish I could give great great grandfather Matthew a piece of my mind about this," he said.

Trent chuckled. "You can worry about that later. Now, we need to come up with a way to convince your dad to let you stay at Dalton. No thanks to David." He muttered the last part under his breath.

They pulled into Kurt's driveway, and Kurt started to get out of the car, but Trent grabbed his arm, and indicated the backseat. Confused, Kurt glanced back, and was only mildly surprised to see the vessel nestled in a blanket there. He let out a sigh and picked it up, leading the other boy into his house.

Burt always took Friday afternoons off so he and Kurt could have their weekly dinner. The older Hummel was standing at the kitchen sink, drinking some water when they entered.

Kurt realized that he hadn't told his dad he was going out with friends tonight and probably would miss their weekly dinner. He knew how much Burt didn't like it when he did that. And now he had to convince him to let him stay someplace he'd never heard of for the entire weekend. This was not going to go so well.

"Hey dad," Kurt said, an expert at hiding his own concerns.

"Oh, hey kiddo. Glad you are home. I need to tell you something about tonight." He glanced at the other boy with his son. "Hi, I don't think I know you?"

"This is Trent, dad," Kurt said as Trent offered the man a smile. "He's new to McKinley."

"Nice to meet you, Trent. Listen, Kurt, I know we usually do our Friday night Family Dinners, but Carole called earlier, and she has the night off, so if it's okay with you, I was going to take her out to dinner. We can do an extra fancy dinner next week to make up for it."

Kurt was momentarily surprised by this news, but it gave him an easy way to slide into what he was going to say. This excuse had worked with Mercedes, so why not his dad? "Oh, that's great dad, I hope you have fun. And it's okay really, Trent invited me to check out a Magic the Gathering tournament happening in his old town this weekend."

Burt raised an eyebrow at that. "All weekend?"

"Yes, Mr. Hummel," Trent said. "They're practicing for the state championships later this month in Columbus."

Burt frowned. "I don't know, Kurt. No offense to your new friend here, but I don't know anything about him. Are your parents okay with this? Where exactly is this event? And what are the sleeping arrangements going to be?"

Kurt hadn't thought this far himself, but Trent, ever cool as a cucumber, handled it with ease. "Yes, my parents are okay with it. They'll be working so I'll be staying with one of my old friends. His family is very responsible and always treats all guests like one of their own. It's at Dalton Academy, in Westerville."

Burt still looked unconvinced, but Kurt knew how to handle that. "Please dad? You know I haven't really had a group of guy friends to hang out with. And I promise I will be home by dinner time on Sunday."

Burt glanced between the two boys for a moment, before sighing. "Fine, but I want you to call me when you get there, and tomorrow night, no excuses. And don't go anywhere without anyone you know accompanying you. Do you understand me?"

"Yes dad! Thank you!" Kurt hugged him before turning back to Trent. "Come on down to my room while I pack an overnight bag."

"Leave the door open!" Burt called out as the two boys disappeared down to the basement bedroom. Once they were out of earshot, Burt shook his head. "Magic the gathering?" he muttered to himself.

…

David met Hunter at the gates as he pulled up in a long black cadillac, his expression neutral. "You can park this bucket over there. Do not exit the vehicle until I've examined it."

Hunter rolled his eyes. "I gave Wes my word, Thompson. Believe it or not, I meant it. I am only here to help Blaine."

"And the Goddess knows why you even agreed to help Blaine in the first place," David muttered.

The other man looked him straight in the eyes, his gaze piercing. "Yes, She does."

David just glared at him. "Just get this done. We have other business later."

"Fine." Hunter pulled into the parking spot indicated and waited, hands visible on the wheel, as David performed a detection and revelation spell on the vehicle and its occupant.

"Okay," David said. "You can get out of the car now. Wes is waiting for you in the main hall."

Hunter didn't say anything. He just got out of the car and strolled right by David to meet with Montgomery.

Neither Wes nor Hunter spoke as the former led the latter up the stairs to Blaine's dorm. Wes opened the door, and waited for Hunter to enter first. He knew better than to present his back to this man.

"What died in here?" Hunter said, almost immediately.

Wes frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"This room smells like death. Someone died in here. And there are traces of dark magic lingering in the floor and walls. Something seriously bad went down in this room."

Wes was shocked. "This was Winston Nixon's room."

For perhaps the first time ever, Hunter looked at Wes with a genuinely serious expression on his face. "You need to get Blaine out of this room. Whomever performed the dark magic here, Winston wasn't the target. Devon was."

Blaine, who had once again been asleep, began to thrash on the bed. "Please! Don't let him take me!" he called out.

"Get him out of here, NOW!" Hunter shouted at Wes.

Wes shouted down the hallway for Thad to come help him, even as he rushed towards the writhing boy. The two of them managed to carry him out of the room and into the hallway. "Take him to Ethan's old room," Wes said. Hunter followed the other two young men at a slower pace, chanting in the same ancient language Wes had used during the spell casting in the woods the other night.

"Do you have the key to get in there?" Thad asked. Ethan's room had been sealed off from anyone being allowed to use it since he disappeared. Humans who walked past didn't even notice there was a door there.

Wes just shook his head and placed his hand on the center of the door. "Heres rediit!" he said softly in latin. The door clicked open.

Thad was stunned for a moment, wondering how Wes knew how to open the door in the first place. They carried Blaine to the bed, which was surprisingly clean and fresh looking, despite no one having been in this room for more than a century. There wasn't a speck of dust anywhere. They gently laid Blaine down, and almost immediately, he calmed, and his breathing became more even.

Hunter entered the room a moment later, finishing the incantation he'd been invoking.

"You need to seal off that other room. Some of the dark magic in there can be reawakened. Whomever did this to Blaine, if they were to get into that room, it could be trouble, regardless of whether Blaine is in there or not."

Wes nodded. "Can you tell who is doing this? And how can we protect Blaine from getting any weaker?"

Hunter sighed. "Who all was in the Circle at the time the incident took place?" he asked.

"What does that have to do with what is happening to Blaine? No one in the Circle would harm him!"

"Because whoever cast that dark magic then, could be influencing whomever is attempting to harm Blaine now. Which means, they might know what they could have access to there."

"As I just said, no one in The Circle would attempt to harm Blaine. Unless you are suggesting someone is being manipulated by dark magic."

Hunter let out a frustrated breath. "Blaine is the one being manipulated. And I didn't ask about who was in the Circle, now. I asked about who was in the Circle, then."

Wes was taken aback at not realizing what the other man was implying. "The Smythes had only just joined a few weeks prior. Other than them, it was the Four Founding Lines, the Nixons, the Duvals, the Sterlings, the Harwoods, the Franklins and the others that are still loyal to The Dalton Circle now."

"Well then, the only possible conclusion is that it's Smythe's magic."

Wes let out a breath. "I was afraid you were going to say that."

Hunter looked at him for a long moment. "Normally, because we don't see eye to eye, I wouldn't care to divulge such information, but you and I are on the same page when it comes to Smythe, so for that reason alone, there's something you need to know."

"I'm listening," Wes said.

"There is a possibility that Andrew Smythe may still be alive."

"Impossible," David said, joining them at that moment. He glanced at Wes. "Your other guest has arrived. Trent is taking him to the dining hall for some dinner."

Hunter turned and looked at David. "Don't consider it impossible yet. There are no more answers to what happened to Andrew than there is to what happened to the other two. Anything is possible. Especially with bending the rules of magic and physics."

Thad was frowning. "Are you saying that with dark magic, a witch can make themselves immortal?"

Hunter regarded him for a moment. "Curious, do any of you even know what the Smythe family special ability is?"

Wes thought about it. The High Council kept a list of every Line's powers, but he couldn't recall seeing the Smythes' listed. He shook his head. "My uncle was on the Council for nearly a decade, and he showed me the list, but the Smythes and a handful of other families weren't listed. Those families tended to run in the same circles with the Smythes, if you know what I mean."

"That's because all the families removed from the list are technically now practicing their magic illegally. They aren't listed because they are no longer legally recognized as witches," Hunter said. "But the point here is that the Smythe family's ability, is glamour."

David swore under his breath. "That means one of them could be walking around Dalton disguised as any of the human students, or even one of us."

"Blaine is the target," Hunter said. "So who would he trust the most?"

Wes and David exchanged a look. Devon and Ethan had been very close. Some of their great great grandfathers suspected the two might have been more than just friends, but the two never said anything or acted in any way like a couple. If history was repeating itself, as Blaine suspected, the most likely person for Blaine to trust would be Kurt. But Kurt hadn't even known about Blaine before Thursday. Had he?

"David," Wes said. "As much as I hate to do this, you need to pass the test." He knew David would pick up on what he was trying to say, but that Wes was trying to say it in such a way that Hunter wouldn't catch on about the importance of their other guest.

The dark skinned boy nodded. "I understand." He moved to the desk in one corner of the room, searching the drawers for the items he needed. He pulled out a white candle and a red one. He set them on the desk and lit each of them, and then closed his eyes, concentrating for a moment, before speaking in that ancient language no modern scholar had discovered yet. He moved his hands in an intricate pattern over the candles as he spoke, and then clapped his hands loudly when he finished speaking.

The room was suddenly filled with a gust of wind that seemed to search every corner of the room, before seeping out the doors and windows, and rushing across the grounds and through every nook and cranny within the building. Several heartbeats later, the breeze swept back into the room, and the red flame was extinguished, while the white flame burned stronger. The darker man nodded.

"There are no imposters anywhere in Dalton or on the grounds."

"Then we can proceed," Wes said, letting out a relieved sigh. "Thad, I want you to stay here and guard Blaine. I don't want him left alone." The younger man nodded, and took a seat in the chair beside the bed. Wes turned back to Hunter. "I want you to seal Winston's room, and I'm going to look away as you do it."

Hunter looked surprised. What Wes was saying was that he would turn a blind eye if Hunter used dark magic to seal the room. There was no question that Hunter was taken aback. But he was a unique case as well. Using dark magic was sometimes necessary to aid in his specialization. He was kind of the loophole to never be ostracized from the magical community.

"As you wish," he said, heading out to return to Winston's room. He paused. "Is there anything of Blaine's you want removed first?"

Wes and David once again exchanged a look. "I don't think he kept anything of a personal nature in there," David replied. Wes shook his head.

"Blaine kept his personal things at his family home. I don't think there is anything in there he can't live without, except maybe his hair gel and bow ties."

"What about the dream journal?" Thad said. "I know it's replaceable, but you can't replace the dreams already written down. And some of those could still be important, like the most recent one."

Hunter looked curious at that, but remained silent.

"Thad is right," Wes said. "David, go with Hunter and retrieve the journal."

"Shall I get his bow ties and hair gel too? The last thing we want is to face the wrath of a gel and bow tie-less Blaine."

"Very funny, but grab what you can."