6 girls' stories at Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Each girl explores an aspect of a dark conspiracy bent on taking over the school and then the wizarding world of North America, but not if Thalia, Claire, Isadora, Sterling, Lizy, and...
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A crow flew against the darkening skies of a gathering storm. Smoke and the smell of burning meat filled the air. Hector and Leroy poked at the flaming pyre with sticks, breaking up the logs, forcing the bones to burn.
"You reckon it's gone enough?" Leroy said.
"Not a chance. I don't give them bones a lick of trust. Stoke it higher." The brothers aimed their wands at the flames and they grew larger, hotter, and sent both men stumbling back, gasping from the heat.
"He wanted the fires of hell, he got them," Hector said. "Mother!"
"Too bad he can't feel 'em," Leroy growled. The crow lit on a tree branch nearby and cocked its head. Then it screamed, making both men jump and look up.
"That you, Blackwing?" Leroy called. The crow blinked, righted its head, turned its beak to the south and cawed again.
"Must just smell the smoke, thinks there's scraps," Hector said, turning back toward the burning body of the rake, now just burning bones. Its skull was bubbling, the jagged, sharp teeth sporting tiny curls of flame on each tip. Hector made a face and blasted the skull apart. Leroy still had an eye on the crow. Thunder rumbled above them.
"What's next?"
"Not sure. House elves hauled out a broken table to the junk heap. Should make good firewood."
"That the one with—?"
"Uh huh." Hector chuckled. "And they thought I wouldn't know what that was. Broked doesn't mean can't be seen." Then he shuddered. "Can't say I love the memories that brings back, though." Leroy nodded.
"They are masters at moving in broad daylight. They make sure you see what they want you to see."
"Not all of 'em. That Hendrik feller, or that Forrest guy—they was downright comical."
"Like I said, they let you see what they want you to see." The two men stared at the fire where the misshapen skeleton of the rake had begun to collapse into ash.
"Think that's good?"
"Yeah." The brothers doused the flames, but let the bones continue to burn and fade away. Then they picked up their axes where they had dismantled some trees for the fire and took off through the woods.
A wind was picking up and the belly of the moody sky was hanging lower and lower toward the top of the mountain. There was the occasional crackle of embers down on the pyre, and the crow was just about to take off into the night sky when a small figure dashed into the middle of the pyre. Raking through the ashes, a whole bone was extracted. The crow focused on the figure, but as it took flight, the figure pocketed the bone and ran into the trees.
Flying low, the crow cawed, but there was nothing to be seen amidst the cold, barren forest.
