Chapter Six

After the meeting, Kurt was feeling a little overwhelmed. Naturally, there was a lot he knew he had to get used to. At the same time though, he strangely felt like he already fit in and was comfortable with the position. That confused him. How could he feel both overwhelmed and comfortable at the same time?

Kurt was contemplating that question as he followed Wes up the stairs to the dormitories. If nothing else, staying at Dalton for the weekend might give him an idea what it might be like to live at college. Though Kurt had always anticipated getting his own apartment rather than living on campus in the dorms. Gaga knew how clean those rooms were kept between occupants.

A thought crossed his mind and he found his hand gripping tighter to the strap of his bag. He hadn't alerted any of them that the demon vessel had joined him once again. He'd stopped hoping it would just stay behind for once.

"Um...Wes?" he said, tone uncertain. "Is there any chance I could maybe see Blaine first?" He tried to keep the hope out of his voice. He knew that something serious was going on with Blaine, but that hadn't stopped him from feeling disappointed that the boy hadn't been present when Kurt took his vows.

Wes paused, turning to face him with the single candle he'd been carrying held a little higher for added light. It was after hours for the human students, which meant lights were off in the dorm corridors. Candles were less noticeable than flashlights.

The older boy sighed. "I'm sorry, Kurt. I'd love to let you see him. But Blaine needs to rest right now, and with the news that the Smythes specialize in glamour, we need to be careful. David's earlier reveal spell showed no imposters. That doesn't mean it hasn't changed since then."

Kurt sighed. He felt a tug of disappointment, but nodded his head in understanding. Wes did have a point. Especially if Blaine was in danger. Especially if Kurt was in danger, as Blaine thought he might be. The idea of transferring to Dalton still lingered in the back of Kurt's mind. A part of him felt this pull that it was the right move, danger or no danger. But another part of him hated the idea of leaving his friends with no real excuse as to why.

"Where are you taking me?" he asked after several more moments of silence.

"To the only other room right now that should be safe," Wes replied. He led Kurt to the end of the hall and pulled a small brass key out of his pocket. "This room is on reserve. The Headmaster could find himself slapped with a hefty lawsuit by the founders committee if he put a boy in here without their approval."

Kurt was taken aback by the words. "Are you sure I won't get in trouble for being in there?"

Wes smiled kindly at him before he unlocked the door. "Positive. When I say the founders committee, I mean mine, David's, and Blaine's fathers. They'll approve of you staying there hands down."

Kurt nodded as Wes pushed open the door and gestured for him to head inside. He stepped in and looked around. For an unused room, it was very neat, clean, and tidy. "Not bad," he said.

"If you need anything, you can shoot Trent a text and he'll come get me."

"Why don't I just give you my number?" Kurt said.

"You can later. But it will look less suspicious to any human students breaking curfew if Trent comes to get me."

Kurt wasn't sure he understood why that was, but thought in due time it might make more sense. "Oh, okay," was all he said. "Have a good night then, Wes."

"Pleasant dreams, Kurt. And welcome home," Wes replied, before slipping out the door and pulling it shut behind him.

Kurt sat on the edge of the bed a moment, glancing around the room. The dorm looked like they hadn't changed the furniture in over a hundred years, and he wondered if all the rooms looked like this.

With a sigh he unpacked his overnight bag, searching for his sleeping pants and t-shirt, and his toiletry kit. He was only mildly surprised to discover the room had a private bathroom attached, and quickly showered and got ready for bed. Not that the shower was necessary after that bath earlier, but it was a habit. Once he was dressed, he hung up the vest and shirt he wore earlier on the door of the armoire, and neatly folded the jeans. He then set out the outfit he planned to wear the next morning, and did an abbreviated version of his nightly skin care routine, before climbing into the large four poster bed. Only then did he realize he had forgotten to bring his Ambien.

He muttered a curse, and sighed. There was nothing for it now, he was just going to have to go without, and hoped he slept. Unless he could figure out how to summon it the way he apparently kept summoning the vessel. He tried to focus on the bottle of pills sitting on his dresser at home, and picture it appearing in his hands, but nothing happened. He really needed to learn how his magic worked, and how to control it. With another sigh, he settled down in the bed and closed his eyes.

Almost immediately, the door crashed open, and a boy who looked a few years younger than him came running in. Kurt shot up in bed, thinking maybe Wes had made a mistake and put him in the wrong room. He tried to apologize to the kid for intruding, but the boy didn't even seem to notice him. Instead the younger male went straight to a chest next to the armoire that Kurt hadn't noticed earlier, and began frantically searching through it.

"I'm sorry," Kurt said. "Is this your room?"

The boy continued to ignore him.

"Hello?" Kurt tried once more. There was still no response, and slowly Kurt began to realize that the boy had a faint glow around him. The boy seemed to find what it was he'd been searching for, a large locket, which he hastily hung about his neck, and a leather-bound journal that was vaguely familiar to Kurt, though he wasn't sure why.

The boy flipped through the journal, searching for a specific entry. He paused and reread a portion of something on the page. And then the boy spoke aloud, and the words sent a shiver down his spine. "My brother is lost to us."

The boy faded out of sight, and Kurt blinked in surprise, sitting up in bed to discover morning sunlight streaming through the window. Had he slept through the night, only to have that strange...he couldn't say dream, because that wasn't what it had felt like. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand where he had left it and sent Trent a quick text, explaining what had just happened.

Trent didn't respond right away, but instead went to Wes' room and pounded on the door intently, indicating that he didn't care if it was early, they needed to talk. When Wes opened the door, Trent just shoved his phone towards the older boy in explanation. "Damn," Wes said. "Go to him. I'll join you in a few minutes. Have him write it all down."

Trent kind of shook his head on his way out. "I can't believe you put him in that room," he muttered, making his way down the corridor towards the room in question. The knock on Kurt's door was softer, more of a gentle warning before Trent opened the door.

"Wes is on his way. He says to write down everything you remember from the dream."

Kurt shook his head. "That's just it, I don't think it was a dream. I may have been asleep, but what happened was real. Like I was sleepwalking, but I wasn't the one moving, if that makes sense."

Trent stared at him for a long moment, mouth opened in slight awe. Kurt wasn't exactly sure what the other boy was thinking, but apparently, he wasn't going to elaborate, because he shook the thought away. "Write it down anyway," he said.

Kurt shrugged it off, and searched for something to write on. He went to the chest he had seen the boy rummage through, half expecting to find the leather-bound journal there, but it was empty. He then searched the desk drawer on the other side of the room, and found a piece of paper and a very old pencil. He had just finished writing it down when Wes arrived, fully dressed and looking like he hadn't been pulled out of bed at sunrise on a Saturday morning.

"Trent said you had a dream," the older boy began, although Trent really hadn't spoken at all.

"It wasn't a dream," Kurt refuted, handing Wes the sheet of paper he'd written on.

"What exactly do you mean it wasn't a dream?" Wes said, looking over the sheet of paper. His first notion had been to wonder if Kurt somehow had some prophetic abilities like Blaine did. He didn't know anyone else who would have this kind of dream. Only now Kurt was claiming it wasn't a dream.

Kurt frowned. "I have trouble sleeping sometimes, so I usually take Ambien before bed, but I forgot to bring it last night. Usually, when I don't take the Ambien, I toss and turn all night, but other times, it feels like I close my eyes at bedtime, and when I blink them open again a moment later, it's morning. Usually when that happens, something unusual seems to happen. I can't really explain it. My dad took me to a sleep therapist once, but they couldn't explain it. They thought I was just sleepwalking. Usually, I have no memory of what happens during those times, but other times I will remember parts, like getting up and getting a drink of water. That's kind of what this felt like. Only instead of sleepwalking, it was like I was watching someone else move in my sleep."

Wes was quiet for a long moment as he studied what Kurt had written down. "I don't think what you saw last night has anything to do with your sleep troubles, Kurt," he said. "I probably should have told you before, this was Matthew's room."

Kurt's eyes went wide. "Do you have a photograph of him? I've never seen a picture of my great great grandfather when he was young."

Wes looked at Trent. "Trent, you know where the picture from that chapter of the coven is. Can you go get it?"

The younger boy nodded and left the room. Kurt watched him go until the door closed behind him. "It wasn't a dream, was it? You can't interpret that because it's not really a dream." The last part was a statement, not a question.

"I'll admit, when Trent first showed it to me, my first thought was to wonder if you might have some prophetic abilities like Blaine. It wouldn't have been unheard of, just not a specialization. But, you're right. It wasn't a dream, and that has me perplexed, because I'm not entirely sure what it was. But, I think Trent might actually have an idea now. I'll have to talk to him later. I don't want to give you any impressions before I'm certain of anything. You've got enough to adapt to as it is."

Kurt sighed and nodded. "Was it just a coincidence, you putting me in my great great grandfather's old room, or did you anticipate something might happen?"

"Coincidence," Wes said. "Actually, I wasn't even going to put you in here originally, but that changed after we had to move Blaine out of his room."

The auburn haired boy let out a sigh, just as Trent returned with the photograph. There were sixteen boys in the picture. He recognized Ethan, Devon, Raymond and Samuel. Two of the other boys seemed familiar to him as well, both a little younger than the others. One of the two had dark hair like Devon's, although with a little less curl in it. The other boy was the one he had seen rummaging through the chest. He studied the other boys in the photograph for a moment, noting the familial resemblance among them with the current members of the Circle. His eyes landed on Ethan again, and the realization of just how much alike he was to Kurt sent a shiver down his spine. And then he noticed a detail he hadn't spotted until then. Ethan was wearing the locket Matthew (for it had to have been him Kurt had seen in his whatever it had been,) had pulled out of the chest.

"That is the boy I saw in this room," he said, pointing out the fair haired boy. "But when I saw him, he pulled this locket out of the chest, along with the journal." He pointed to the locket Ethan wore.

Wes frowned. "That locket was given to Ethan by his grandfather on the day the older Hummel passed on. He never took it off. Ethan once said that his grandfather told him that evil would befall him if he ever parted with it."

Trent frowned. "So then what was it doing in Matthew's chest?" he asked.

Kurt was still for a moment. "Wait, if you say that Ethan never took it off, wouldn't Devon have realized that who he was meeting wasn't Ethan if the locket was not around his neck?"

Wes looked thoughtful for a moment. He wasn't familiar with the power of glamour, so wouldn't know how accurate the detail would be. "I don't have an answer for that, unfortunately. Clarington might, but I wouldn't trust his word about it." He paused for a moment, thinking through his next question carefully. "When you saw Matthew in your...let's just call it a waking dream for the moment, but when you saw him, you said he seemed frantic. Was he afraid? Angry? What exactly did he say when he spoke?"

Kurt had to think about it for a moment. "I would almost say he was in mourning, neither afraid or angry. He simply said 'my brother is lost to us.'"

"It almost sounds as if he thought Ethan was dead," Trent observed, having momentarily forgotten his unanswered question from a moment ago.

"But we know he was alive weeks later when he sent his father that letter." Wes said.

Trent was quiet. "Maybe it has something to do with that demon vessel," he said. "You just said that Ethan's grandfather told him as long as he was wearing the locket, evil couldn't get him. But Kurt's whatever it was, proves that Ethan wasn't wearing the locket that night."

The older boy rubbed his temple, feeling a headache coming on. "We just keep uncovering more mysteries and questions, and no answers."

"I'm sorry," Kurt said. "You thought I was the key to solving the riddle, but instead I seem to just be blurring the image even more."

"No," Trent said, shaking his head. "Sure, we're uncovering more mysteries and questions, but this is the most progress anyone has made in the case yet. Before you, everything was just a standstill. So it would help if we could figure out why Ethan wasn't wearing the locket that night."

Before anyone else could speak, Wes received a text. "It's Thad. Blaine is awake, and asking for Kurt."

Kurt practically leapt out of the bed. "Can I see him?"

"You may want to change first," Wes answered, looking over the pajama pants and white t-shirt Kurt was wearing.

Kurt was momentarily confused, as he'd completely forgotten he was still in his pajamas. "Oh Gaga!" he yelled, dashing into the private bathroom.

Trent took that moment to turn a serious expression on Wes. "I need to talk to you about something. It's a hunch on what might have happened here, but I can't be certain it is what I am thinking. I've personally never heard of an instance. That's how rare it is."

Wes nodded for the younger boy to continue speaking. He'd gotten the impression that Trent had sensed something the moment he'd entered the room.

"There's residual energy in here. It's a rare phenomenon. When a moment in a person's life - and this includes regular humans - is associated with a powerful emotional pull, sometimes, it can leave an imprint. It's like a visual memory of that moment is left behind. Of course, no normal human can ever witness it. But, not just any witch can either."

Wes was surprised. He knew there were some things about witchcraft that even he didn't know, but this was something he had never even conceived of before. "Who would be able to see these imprints?"

"Only witches with an extremely rare ability," Trent said. "Wes, I think Kurt is a memory reader."

"Explain," the lanky Asian boy said, leaning against the desk and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well," Trent said, glancing towards the bathroom door to make sure Kurt wasn't coming out any time soon. "You know that I can sense any and all magical energy, even if it was left long ago, as residual energy. And given that this room has been shut off since Matthew left, it doesn't surprise me there is residual energy. Memory readers, they don't just pick up on the residual energy, they can physically make out the memory attached to it. There are a couple different ways. Some have it just blooming in their brains. Some can read the energy like a book. And some, the smallest percentage, can watch it play out like a real time movie."

"And you believe this is what happened with Kurt? I know some family lines have developed secondary specialties over time, but they are usually associated with their primary power."

Trent looked thoughtful for a moment. "There's a reason Johnathan's prophecy was about Kurt. something about him specifically in the Hummel line was meant to be the key to solving this. It's possible that he was chosen as a unique standpoint. So much of his family's line has been hidden in the shadows since Matthew cut himself off. We don't have all the answers and Kurt's family certainly doesn't. So the Goddess must have blessed him with something that would help."

Wes let out a sigh. "I truly hope you are right."

"There may be a way to test that theory," Trent said. Before Wes could respond, or Trent could elaborate, Kurt emerged from the bathroom, dressed, and hair perfectly coiffed. Wes threw Trent a look that clearly said they would speak later, and they left the room, escorting Kurt to the room where they had moved Blaine.

…

Blaine fidgeted, picking at the plate of food Nick and Jeff had brought him. He really had no appetite right now, but had forced himself to drink the tea Thad had prepared for him, knowing the boy's healing talents would help ease at least some of the distress he was in.

He kept glancing towards the door. "Where is he? Is he coming?"

"He'll be here, Blaine," Thad said. "I sent Wes a text."

Blaine let out a sigh, and began scratching at the back of his hands. "I feel like I have ants crawling on me."

Thad frowned. The symptoms the hazel-eyed boy was currently displaying were similar to those of a drunk going through withdrawals. He didn't understand it. Blaine rarely ever drank, and then only when a ceremony or incantation called for it. He poured another cup of tea for Blaine just as the door opened, and Wes, Trent, and Kurt entered. Blaine seemed to settle the moment he spotted Kurt.

Kurt was by the side of the bed in seconds, reaching out a hand to feel Blaine's forehead. He still couldn't figure out why he was so drawn to the boy. "Are you okay?" he asked, dropping his hand reluctantly.

Behind them, Trent leaned over to Wes, and whispered so only he could hear. "And he tried to tell me just because the coven thought there was something more between Devon and Ethan, didn't mean he and Blaine would ever get married on the way to the Sanctuary last night."

Wes just shrugged, distracted as he watched the two boys interact. Something about it was so strangely intimate, while still being casual. He didn't think either of them was aware of it.

"Hey," Kurt said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling? Did you sleep well?"

Blaine was quiet for a moment, just staring at Kurt, as though trying to make sure he was real. "I mis…" He clamped his mouth shut before he could finish the thought and turned to look at Wes. "I had another dream," he said, picking up the journal from the nightstand and holding it out to the older boy.

I stood in the center of a dark room, no lightsource anywhere to be found. Before me were two mirrors. I stepped in front of the one on the right, but it was not my reflection looking back, but Kurt's. Or was it Ethan? I cannot tell anymore. The image tried to tell me something, but no sound came through the glass. Then the mirror began to fog up, and the image was obscured.

I moved to stand in front of the mirror on the left. This time my face looked back at me, but it was distorted. The eyes, cold and menacing, began to burn black as night. And then the image in the mirror began to laugh, and the sound filled me with dread. I tried to scream, but the sound would not emerge, and I realized I was the one inside the mirror. And then the glass cracked and shattered, and I was broken into a thousand pieces, and scattered on the wind.

Wes frowned at the words. "I still think Ethan's trying to warn you of something. But what, isn't clear. The fact that you supposedly saw yourself gives me the idea that it wasn't you. It might have been Devon, but the state he was in suggests something bad must have happened to him. Something dark, perhaps."

Kurt wasn't really paying attention as he studied Blaine's face. The boy no longer had a fever, but his skin was as cold as death. Without consciously thinking about it, Kurt held up his hand, and flames jumped to life in the old fireplace on the far wall of the room. Another movement of his hand, and the tea cup slid into his hand. He held it to Blaine's lips, easing the shorter boy's head up from the pillow to help him drink.

"Can someone bring him some hot beef broth? He needs to bring his temperature up." Kurt glanced at the windows around the room, frowning. Another hand gesture, and the windows were suddenly bedecked in rosemary and bay leaves. The scent filled the room immediately, and Blaine seemed to breathe a little easier, some color returning to his face. "Do you have someone who can make protective amulets?" he added.

Wes, Trent, and Thad were all staring at him, the latter's mouth hanging open. Hadn't Kurt previously been unknowledgeable and unable to control his powers just the night before? Or even just moments before?

"How did you do that?" Thad asked.

"Do what?" Kurt asked, still distracted, helping Blaine drink the tea.

"Started a fire, summoned the tea cup, and produced rosemary and bay leaves," Trent said.

Kurt glanced back at them all in confusion. "I didn't do any of that. I mean, yeah, I picked up the cup, but I don't know what you mean about starting a fire or summoning herbs."

"Kurt, look at the fireplace and the windows," Wes said.

Kurt looked, then turned back to Wes. "Didn't you start the fire?"

"We don't have any matches or candles or lighters, or anything else needed to start a fire, Kurt," Wes replied. "Look around. This room hasn't been used just as long as the one you're staying in. there isn't even any wood or coal in here."

Kurt looked around again, shocked. "I don't remember doing any of that."

Trent frowned. "His magic seems to work subconsciously. We need to figure out how he can start working it consciously."

Wes nodded. "You and Niff can help him work on that later, but right now I think we have more important things to worry about. Like finding out who or what is attacking Blaine. Have Beatz create an amulet, as Kurt suggests. I'll have one of our boys bring Blaine the hot beef broth. I don't know why Kurt thinks it will help, but I suggest we follow his lead on this."

"Right," Trent said, nodding his head. "I don't think Kurt is going to leave this room, but we can't leave him here alone with Blaine, what with him not being well practiced with his magic. So I think Thad should stay here."

"I agree, although I may have David come up and spell Thad for a while so he can rest." He turned to the other boy. "After you get some sleep, I want you to research ailments caused by dark magic."

Thad nodded. "Of course, Wes. I'll get on that as soon as possible."

…

Nick and Jeff were seated in the library, but not where the human students could see them. They were actually in a secret room only accessible by members of the Circle, past and present. The shelves were scarce, but the few books they did have were bound in heavy leather, suggesting they'd been around for centuries. Maps were posted along the walls, as well as old photographs and a case where important magical objects were kept.

The room was lit only by torches set in wall sconces and a single candle in the center of the single table. The boys sat on either side, a map spread out in front of them, and Nick kneeling on the bench, a chain with a large crystal dangling off the end swinging in gentle circles.

"It's no use," the brunette said, sitting back on the bench outright and setting the crystal down. "It's not picking up on anything."

"That's impossible," Jeff replied, picking up the scrying crystal and examining it for a moment. "There's still evidence of dark magic right here in Dalton. It should have at least picked up on that."

Nick let out a sigh. "If the Smythes are as powerful as the legends claim, they might know a masking spell."

"One powerful enough to even block a scrying attempt?" Jeff asked.

Nick opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, all the torches and the candle suddenly went out. The next thing the darker haired boy heard, was a gasping sound. "Jeff?"

The response was a sputtered cry and Nick was immediately aware that the other boy might be in trouble. The next sound that came was a voice he didn't recognize.

"I want you to listen to me very carefully. You will do exactly as I say or this blade resting lightly against your neck is going to be more than light. Do I make myself clear?"

Fear shot through Nick, and he couldn't help the choked gasp as he felt the cold metal against his flesh. "What did you do to Jeff?"

"I wouldn't worry about him. He's just incapacitated for now." There was a sudden movement and the candle lit once more. The unwelcome visitor kept the blade pressed to Nick's neck and lowered his face so the other boy could see him. "Of course, no one else is going to realize that, now are they?"

Nick's eyes grew wide in shock. "How did you get in here? Your Line was expunged from the membership. You shouldn't have been able to pass through the protection wards."

The boy waved his free hand. "Child's play. But you'll follow my orders exactly as I tell you if you care about what happens to your precious little boy toy."

Anger was quickly replacing the fear, but Nick knew there was nothing he could do at the moment. "What do you want from me?"

"Simple. Get Blaine out of that room, and unguarded."

"That won't be easy. Wes has ordered a twenty four hour watch on him, but Jeff and I are considered to be necessary elsewhere, so we won't be asked to guard him."

"I'm sure you can think of something. The real Jeff's life depends on it. I'm not above murder. You don't want to mess with me."

Nick narrowed his eyes, a thought percolating through his mind, but he kept his mouth shut. "Fine, but it may take a day or two."

"I'll be watching you, very closely. After all, where you go, Jeff goes, right?" He snickered. "Also, I may have ended my brother's life. Just some food for thought."

Nick gave a curt nod, knowing he had no choice. He had to act as if everything was normal, until he could figure out a way to warn the others.