Henbane Academy

28 September

Hephaestus Dorm; Upstairs corridor

I passed doors 2105, 193 and 92 in complete silence, my mind consumed with Adelia Rose until that moment. How do you hide a student's charred corpse and have no trace to you whatsoever? I looked at the painted numbers on each door. They didn't make any sense and following word from my other classmates, neither did the ones in their dorms. Perhaps it was another eccentric choice of our founder's.

'It's open,' she said the second my knuckles scraped against the wood of her door.

Sarah tossed a glance as I entered then turned back to her desk, rummaging furiously through her drawers. Her room wasn't much different than mine in a sense. It had the same blue bed sheets to contrast the dark purple walls, the same intricate armoire, bookshelf, desk and matching chair beneath a looking glass. The only difference was the more chaotic state of the room and a wide wooden contraption beside her bed.

'Elizabeth, I didn't know it was you,' her smile was so genuine it made me a bit guilty for resenting her company before. 'What are you doing here?'

'Well it is Wednesday,'

'Oh that's today! Right. Just, give me a moment,' she looked around then picked up scraps of parchment she'd previously taken out and stuffed them back into the drawers. 'I'm sorry it's such a mess,' she said, brushing wood shavings off a stool and placing it in front of the makeshift dressing table. 'Wednesday,' she muttered. 'Must have slipped my mind.'

'That's normal. I forgot a whole week once. Not under any substance abuse I assure you,' I added quickly to the brief flash of confusion in her eyes as I made my way past haphazard towers of books. 'I wrote for the longest time, I didn't notice the sunlight coming in and out of my window. If it isn't a bother, what are you working on?'

'This?' She pointed to the contraption. 'It's a maze I made for hedgehogs.'

'Hedgehogs?'

'Mr. Henderson's to be precise. It's for next week's class presentation.'

'You made it?'

'Yes, now please, have a seat. I have got the perfect hairstyle in mind,' she set my cane against the table and started tugging a brush through my hair, twisting and pinning it up as she made conversation. 'Have you read about the prince and the murders?'

'The one concerning Lady Isabelle? Why? What do you make of it?'

'I was about to ask you about the Impossible Sleuth. Isn't it mad?'

'What's mad about it? The two heirs went about, searching for the prince and they ended up uncovering a murder instead,' I caught Sarah's pointed stare in the mirror. 'I suppose it is a bit far fetched. But they have tangible evidence.'

'The three journals at the prince's house? For all we know they could be planted there,' she argued, pinning another lock of hair.

'That's hardly a fair answer you know. But regardless, I believe Heather Carlton.' As incredibly modern our society claimed to be, Keydon was still prejudiced in some aspects regarding women and the extent to their achievements. 'I think a lot of people distrust her because she's never appeared in the papers.'

'Exactly, she could be taking up an opportunity at attention. For all we know, she has offered Mr. Hemingway a considerable sum to share the spotlight.'

'But if she craved the spotlight, wouldn't it be easier to just assume the throne? Or make her existence known?' I questioned. 'The press would be flocking to meet her.'

'That is true,' she held a contemplating expression then leaned back in the same manner William did in class. 'There. You have to admit that's better.'

'It is.' Sarah had made it wonderfully simple and sophisticated at the same time, gathering my hair at the back for less distraction. 'It's wonderful. Thank you.'

'You're welcome,' she stood and mocked a bow. 'Say have you heard about Adelia Rose? It's horrible.'

'Terrible,' I nodded. 'But I think I know who can resolve our conflict about the sleuth.'

◊◊◊

Orpheus Dorm; Number 1888

'William? We've got something for you to sort out.'

'Oh no, not him,' Sarah clasped her hand to her mouth, her face visibly drained from its colour and I could see why. Among the neatly folded sheets and carefully kept books, one would hardly expect to find their friend dangling from the ceiling with a noose at their neck. 'Is he—?'

'Dead?' I approached William's body as Sarah closed the door. He was still in his uniform with his pomaded hair and pocket watch tucked safely in his vest. No outward signs of struggle. Not even a tight noose. 'No, he isn't dead. Not yet at least,' I poked his back with my cane and watched his limbs wake up. 'Although who can tell how much longer he'll live?'

'Ah, Cunningham, Sarah. Fantastic that you're here,' he said as he swung past us. 'Be a dear and get me down would you? I seem to have lost feeling in my legs.'

'Looking to find your sanity somewhere up there?' I simply plopped down into a chair, knowing full well that if he could cheat death in that position, he could get down by himself. 'Is this another one of your ridiculous experiments or have you finally snapped?'

'Well I tried to,' this earned a horrified gasp from Sarah. 'But life wants me to cheat death again.'

'Again?' She echoed.

'There, there. Don't feel inadequate on my behalf, Cunningham does that well enough.'

'Oh shut up, smart arse. We can leave you hanging up there you know,' I glared as best as I could with his childlike expression staring back at me. 'He doesn't mean it,' I assured Sarah and turned to face him. 'William knows that sensible people don't purposely reenact hangings to get the thrill of being alive.'

'But sensible people don't have any thrill in their lives, Cunningham. Come on, just use your cane to help me down.'

'And how am I supposed to achieve that? Balance on it while I untie you? I'm not your preferred trapeze artist.'

'Not unless I want to fall.' he swung past us again. 'Twist the head. It should come off.' I did as he asked and sure enough the bird's head came off, with an eight inch blade at the end. So it wasn't just a pretty walking stick with swirls and carved hummingbirds. He had weaponised it as well. 'I asked Nick to tell you. I thought he would.'

'Well, we don't confide in everything do we?' I said as I cut the rope. 'I don't see reason to do the same with my brother.'

'You have a brother?'

'Yes, do try to keep up Sarah,' he landed on his face with a thud and scurried up. 'Now, what are you here for?'

And in that moment came a very harsh knock on the door.

'That, I suppose?'

'Give us a moment,' he held up a finger before I could answer it. 'Three, two—'

'Would you at least answer the door William?' Mary-Lou burst in and looked at our faces one by one then to the severed rope and the noose around William's neck. 'Again?'

'He taught me a trick this time,' I replaced the blade into my cane. 'What's wrong?'

'I'll tell you what's wrong,' she stormed up to William and shoved a finger in his chest. 'This obsolete prat refuses to answer the door. He seems to think he's far too important to let people in—'

'What is the point in opening it if you're going to storm in?'

'Manners you git. Manners!'

'Alright you two. It's past three already. No death threats until ten,' I looked at them both. 'What are you doing here Mary-Lou? Your dorm is on the other side of the school.'

'I've come looking for him obviously, and you as well. Dr. Longstone is looking for you.'

'What on earth could it be this time?'

'He says there's another one'