Misty had never felt the same way about the Academy's library as Cordelia. Cordelia loved it there. She would spend hours immersed in spellbooks and texts, writing in notebooks and frowning at her laptop screen late into the night. Misty had tried to join her several times, but her efforts had never lasted long. Misty craved music and dancing and the feeling of dirt in her hands and grass under her feet. The quiet library with its dust filled air and endless rows of boring texts held no appeal to her. Without saying a word, the pair had come to an understanding, that Cordelia's library time was her alone time.
Today was different. The two women walked into the library together. Cordelia lead the way with her long confident stride. A handful of students were inside, hunched over books and computers. One of them looked up from her book and smiled. Misty quickly waved at her and then hurried after Cordelia.
She followed the Supreme down a long aisle lined with texts, their spines cracked and threadbare, all shades of faded and mute colours. They smelt awful to Misty, like an old attic shut up and forgotten. At the end of the aisle, at the very back of the library, was a tall bookshelf made of dark oak. Misty thought about the very beautiful tree that must have died to make it. She didn't say anything to Cordelia. She had learnt by now that on some matters they would never see eye to eye.
The book shelf had two doors inset with glass. Behind the glass Misty could see some very old, very heavy looking tomes. The doors each had a brass ring handle. Underneath each handle was a small lock.
Cordelia pulled a fine gold necklace up and over her head. Misty knew this necklace well, because Cordelia never took it off. Hanging on the chain were three tiny, ornate keys, one brass, one gold and one silver. Cordelia used the brass coloured key to unlock the doors of the book shelf.
She ran one long index finger along the spines of the books, quickly finding the one she was looking for and identifying it with a quick double tap of her finger. She pulled it from the shelf carefully and lugged it to a nearby desk, setting it down with a loud thunk. The women sat down at the desk together and Cordelia began to flip expertly through the pages.
Misty watched the familiar way Cordelia handled the thin yellowed pages of the old book. She realised Cordelia had known exactly which book held the spell they needed and exactly where to find it. Cordelia really had read every book in this library. Misty couldn't imagine doing that in a thousand lifetimes.
"Here," said Cordelia, tapping a page and then sliding the book closer to Misty.
Misty stared at Cordelia's perfect hands as they moved the book towards her. The long delicate fingers and the perfect white skin. She mentally roused herself and read the title of the page. It was written in Latin.
"Somniatis Imperium," Misty read.
Misty threw a questioning glance at Cordelia.
"Sleep Control," Cordelia said.
Underneath the title was a woodcut illustration of a woman. She was lying on the ground, eyes closed, with her arms crossed over her chest. Floating above the woman was another version of herself, standing up and wide awake, arms stretched to the sky. Seething around this dream woman were winged demons and horned beasts. There was a description underneath the illustration. Cordelia ran her finger underneath the lines of text, nodding and talking quietly to herself as she read them.
"This spell will allow you to be in control of your actions while you're sleeping," Cordelia said.
"I should have everything we need," she continued. "And our magic is powerful enough. There shouldn't be a problem."
Misty took Cordelia's hand. Cordelia stopped examining the spellbook and looked up at her.
"What is it sweetheart?" she asked.
"For the spell to work, I have to go to sleep?" Misty asked.
Cordelia nodded.
"It's just..." Misty said.
"What's wrong?" Cordelia said.
"I'll come back this time, won't I Delia?"
In an instant Cordelia's face collapsed, her expression transforming from confused to devastated.
"Oh Misty!" Cordelia said.
She took Misty's face in her hands for a moment. And then she pulled her close and hugged her tight.
"You don't have to do this," Cordelia said softly in her ear, "Let's just forget about it, okay?"
Misty slowly pulled away from Cordelia, shaking her head.
"You're wrong," she said, "I do have to do this."
Cordelia stroked Misty's face with the back of her hand.
"Then let's get it over and done with," she said. "Tonight. Midnight will be best."
Cordelia gave Misty a little smile and began to play with the tips of her blonde curls.
"It will be easy," Cordelia said. "Just find the name of this place, the names of the people in it, anything we can use to identify where you are and when this is happening."
Misty nodded. It all sounded so simple. But so had the Seven Wonders once. She was wiser now but she had no choice. The danger was too great, not just to herself, but to Cordelia and the coven. The evil in her vision, she had felt it, and it had felt her too. It had looked right at her. It was only a matter of time before it hunted her down.
The following hours passed slowly for Misty. It was Saturday afternoon and there were no classes. Most of the girls were out and about in New Orleans and the old house was sleepy and quiet. While Cordelia busied herself with preparations and errands, Misty stayed in the green house, watering the plants, listening to music and thinking about what the night could bring.
Finally, the sun slipped beyond the horizon. Misty forced herself to eat a little dinner in the kitchen, some fruit and bread with honey. Then she climbed the stairs to her bedroom to wait for midnight to come. When Cordelia came to check on her she was lying on their bed, staring at the ceiling, quietly singing to herself.
Cordelia sat down beside her on the edge of the bed.
"Are you ready?" she asked.
Misty looked into Cordelia's eyes. She saw only love. And it made her feel less afraid.
"Yes," she said.
Cordelia led Misty by the hand to the middle of the room, where she had everything she needed for the spell neatly laid out on the carpet. She took up a pouch full of salt and began to pour it onto the floor, making a circle around them both. She kissed Misty softly on the lips.
"Now relax and lie down," she said.
Misty did as she was told. She lay on her back on the soft carpet and looked up at Cordelia. She tried to lock the vision of her face in her mind. Tried to memorise the darkness of her eyes, the incandescence of her skin, the fullness of her lips. She hoped to use the memory of that perfect face to find her way back again. Then she closed her eyes.
She heard Cordelia speaking softly in Latin. She had time to think how sweet her voice sounded, and then she was gone.
Misty opened her eyes and everything had changed. She took in a sharp breath of cold night air. She was on a dirt path, surrounded by trees, but they did not give her comfort. These woods were not friendly. Misty knew straight away they concealed something foul, something evil. She felt it lurking there in the darkness, just beyond her vision. It was not safe here.
She looked down at herself. She was dressed completely in black. A cross hung around her neck. In her hand she gripped something metal and cold. A bucket. She lifted it up and looked inside. The smell hit her. Inside were bloody gizzards and wet guts. She dropped the bucket in shock. It hit the ground with a clank and rattle, splattering its contents everywhere.
She heard a distant growl.
She told herself to run, and this time her dream body listened. She bolted down the path, her feet slamming on the ground, her heart pumping. Her clothes were restrictive and they slowed her down. What was she wearing? Finally, she burst into a clearing beyond the trees and collapsed onto the grass. Breathing heavily, her heart still pumping, she looked up.
Looming over her, tall and ominous in the darkness, was a massive brick building. She knew she needed to get inside, to get away from the creature in the woods, but every instinct in her told her to turn back. This place was wicked to the core. Evil festered inside it like a sick, black heart.
She took a deep breath and rubbed her face with her cold hands. She had to focus. She was here for a reason. And that reason was to discover more about the evil within this wretched place that towered above her. She made herself stand up and then set off at a jog to find the entrance.
When she came to the building's wall she reached out with both hands and touched its rough red bricks. She looked behind her. There was no sign of the creature in the woods. Maybe it was afraid of the light shining from the windows? Maybe it was just afraid of this place? She could understand that well enough.
She jogged along the perimeter, running the palm of her left hand along the wall. Turning a corner, she saw a large white staircase leading to an arched entranceway. A way in! Would it be locked? She headed towards it, casting her eyes about for something, anything, that would give her a name for this place. There was nothing.
She began to climb the stairs. She had to lift her long dress so she wouldn't trip. Before she had reached the top the giant double doors swung open. A man walked out holding a torch in his hand. He shone the torch on her and she held up her arm to shield her eyes.
"Sister?" he said, "Are you alright?"
He lowered the torch and walked towards her, reaching out a hand to help her up the last step. He was dressed like a security guard, maybe a prison guard. He had kind eyes. He took her by the arm and began to guide her to the door.
"You don't look too good Sister," he said. "Let's get you inside and I'll go fetch Sister Jude"
"Sister Jude?" asked Misty. "Who is she? Where am I?"
"Why Sister, don't you know?" asked the guard. "You're at home. You're at Briarcliff."