Watcher Academy Page 3

  As I was shelving a book on Babylonian history, I dropped it on the floor and it flipped open.

  Sighing, I bent down to pick it up. I really needed to stop dropping things. The page visible showed samples of writing from that time. It matched the writing on the orb.

  No wonder I didn’t recognize it. It’s not something I learned in college. Or at home. Grandpa had me speaking three languages by the time I reached high school. Only French, German and Spanish though. I had the option of taking an ancient language course in college, but I couldn’t keep up with the workload and complete my Watcher studies.

  I stared at the symbols, trying to remember which ones I saw on the orb or if they were even the same. The words started to swim across the page. “What the…?”

  I watched, completely mesmerized by the moving words. How were they doing that? I moved the book closer to my face, blocking everything else out.

  “Miss Grimm!”

  I jumped, turning to find Chelsea behind me. I quickly shut the book and hid it behind my back. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

  She looked exasperated. “You’ve shelved less than half of the books.”

  “Uh, I know. I’ll move the rest now.”

  “It’s 6 o’clock. The day’s over.”

  “It’s what?” I checked my watch. 6:01pm. “No, that’s impossible.”

  It couldn’t be more than noon. How was this possible?

  “Go home, Grimm. You can finish this tomorrow,” Chelsea said, sounding irritated.

  I nodded, waiting for her to leave so I could check the book. When she did, I opened it again. It looked completely normal. I flipped through the pages, but the words remained stationary. Did I imagine them moving? For nearly six hours? Standing in the one spot, not moving.

  I space out sometimes, I admit that, but how the heck did I lose so much time? Did no one notice me standing here? Or try and talk to me?

  “What’s going on?” I whispered.

  Chapter Four

  I lay awake for half the night, trying to figure out what happened to me. Brenda lay snoring across the room, adding to my insomnia. She had nothing to worry about that would keep her awake. As an English Lit major, she spent most days working on her own poetry. That and complaining about me. I tried to get to know her when I first arrived, but she quickly shut me down.

  Sighing loudly, I rolled onto my side, trying to quiet my mind enough to sleep. I pushed the blankets down, as I felt myself start to sweat. The room was so stuffy, thanks to Brenda insisting we keep the heating turned up. I hated it. Maybe I could open the window above my bed? Would she notice?

  Screw it. I need some air.

  Getting up, I moved to the window and quietly opened it. The cool fall air hit me and I sighed with relief. Resting my head on the frame, I stared out at the campus below. Silent at this time of the night, I noticed a stray dog rooting through an overturned trash can. It pulled something free and ran off with it.

  I need to learn to relax. I’m so stressed about making a good impression that it’s affecting me physically.

  This weekend, I would take some time out and really relax.

  A loud snort escaped Brenda.

  Not in this room though. Hopefully there is a spa or something nearby.

  Closing the window over, but not completely, I returned to bed. I managed to get a few hours in before dawn.

  I headed back to the Academy after a quick breakfast of oatmeal, my mind still on that book. The best explanation I could come up with was that I had been hypnotized somehow. The book could be magical, maybe it hypnotized readers.

  Or I’m losing my mind.

  Either way, I would stay clear of it and report anything odd to Chelsea from now on.

  After I finished shelving the rest of the books, Chelsea sent me to help Max with organizing his office. It needed it. There were papers everywhere and books piled around the room. I wondered why Max got an office when no one else seemed to, but given the amount of stuff in the room, it became clear. He needed the space.

  “How do you find anything?” I asked, as I narrowly avoided tripping over a pile of books.

  “I know where everything is,” he said. “I told Chelsea its fine, but as usual, she ignored me.”

  It must be annoying to be ordered around by someone younger than you. Chelsea must have really proven herself to get the position. Or she did some major butt kissing.

  I looked around, trying to decide what to do first. “I can at least file these papers.” I lifted a bunch of them and headed for the filing cabinet in the corner. A withered plant sat on top of it which looked like it had never seen water. Probably a gift to him.

  “They’re mostly invoices for deliveries. Just file them by country of origin,” Max said.

  I got to work, while Max fussed at his desk, muttering to himself. He seemed stressed out. Chelsea could do that to a person.

  As I worked, I took a look around the room. There were no personal photos on the wall, but there were some plaques and some framed newspaper articles on cases covered by the League.

  I checked out the one closest to the filing cabinet. The headline read – Sinkhole Opens Up in East Texas. Pretty accurate, if you replaced Sinkhole with Hellhole. It had the locals stumped. I guess he kept them for entertainment value, because it was funny to see what explanations they came up with.

  I glanced at Max. As the expert on ancient cultures, I wondered if I should tell him about what happened with the book. Or would he think I was crazy? I certainly did.

  “So, how long have you worked here?” I asked, trying to get a conversation going.

  “Too long.”

  “You don’t like it?”

  “I like it more when certain people don’t come in here barking orders.”

  I laughed. “Glad to know it’s not just me.”

  Max sat down at his desk and put his head in his hands. “I don’t need this today.”

  “Can I get you some coffee or something?” I asked.

  He looked up, surprised. “That’s not your job, but thanks for the offer.”

  “I don’t mind. I was going to grab one for myself anyway.”

  “Uh, okay. Yeah, thanks. I take it black.”

  I headed to the machine in the main room. Maybe I misjudged Max earlier. I’m sure this job kept him extremely busy. I know when Grandpa would get caught up in a case, he would lock himself away in his office, barely talking.

  “You don’t want to drink that stuff,” Spencer called from his desk. “It’s nasty.”

  I poured myself a cup and took a sip, then pulled a face as the bitter taste filled my mouth.

  “Told ya.”

  I shrugged. “I’ve had worse. As long as it has caffeine, it’s good enough.” Down in Peru, we were stuck with instant stuff that would make you gag.

  I brought a cup back to Max. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Shoot.” He took the cup from me and sipped it. The taste didn’t seem to bother him.

  “Do you know much about Babylonian culture?”

  His whole body stiffened. “Why are you asking me that?”

  “Chelsea said you dealt with ancient cultures.” Had I said something wrong?

  “Yeah.” He cleared his throat and started shuffling papers. “What about it?”

  Now how did I asked without admitting to what I’d done?

  “I was looking at one of the books and there was this ancient text which looked familiar. I saw it on an artefact once. I was just trying to figure out what it meant.”

  “What did it look like?”

  I grabbed a blank sheet of paper and drew what I could remember. Which wasn’t much.

  He slid the sheet toward him. After a moment, his eyes went wide. “Is this supposed to be a joke? Did someone put you up to this?” he snapped.

  “What? No! Why, what does it say?”

  “Get out,” he said, crumpling the sheet into a ball and tossing it into the trash.

  �
�I really don’t…”

  “Now!”

  I retreated from the room, shocked at his reaction. What did that page say? It can’t have been anything good.

  Chelsea headed my way with Antoine in tow. “Why aren’t you working with Max?”

  “He asked me to leave,” I said.

  Chelsea sighed. “I knew that would happen. Make yourself useful, go put in our lunch order.” She held out a list.

  “Uh, I don’t think that’s in my job description.”

  Antoine stifled a laugh as Chelsea’s eyes nearly popped out of her head.

  “Your duties are whatever I say they are. So you have two choices – order lunch or you could always scrub the toilets instead.”

  I took the list from her and left the building without saying a word. Three days in and things just kept getting worse. Maybe I wasn’t cut out for this. My parents sure didn’t think so. They never wanted me to be a Watcher, they even stopped me from visiting Grandpa, scared he would convert me or something. Then they died in the accident and Grandpa was the only person left to take care of me.

  I miss him so much.

  My parents had become blurred memories, but Grandpa…I wasn’t even there when he died. The housekeeper found him in his office, slumped over his desk.

  He would have hated going out like that. I’m sure he would rather have gone out facing some tentacled beast or something.

  Standing in the queue at the sandwich place on campus, I was overcome with an intense feeling of loneliness. I had no family, no friends, no real ones anyway. The last few years had been spent preparing for this. It never bothered me before, I always believed that there would be time for that once I established myself at the Academy. How could I focus on my personal life when every day would be a battle just to keep my position?

  Maybe I should just quit.

  Grandpa’s weathered face sprang into my mind. He’d be ashamed of me if I did that.

  “It’s one of the hardest jobs in the world, but it’s worth it, because you know that at the end of the day, you’ve done something worthwhile.”

  “Next!”

  I stepped up to the counter and handed over the list to the woman. She looked annoyed. “Let me guess. Historical society?”

  I nodded.

  “Tell whoever’s in charge, that they’re holding up my other customers with this crap. It would be a lot more helpful to have this before the lunch rush.”

  “Sorry, I don’t…” I stammered.

  She saw the look on my face. “Relax. I know you’re just their latest lackey. It’s that blonde piece of work who’s behind it.”

  “Chelsea,” I said.

  “Yeah, that’s her. That’s why her order is often wrong.” She winked at me and I laughed.

  I waited while the sandwiches were prepared and the queue behind me grew even longer. People started to grumble, while I tried my best to avoid their glares.

  The woman handed me two full bags of sandwiches. I was sure to tip her generously for the trouble.

  As I headed back, I forced the dark thoughts away. I don’t buckle under pressure, I rise to it. The Academy would never be a walk in the park, but I was here and that’s all that mattered. Even if I did end up scrubbing toilets.

  “Took you long enough,” Chelsea said when I returned. She searched the bag for her sandwich. A moment after unwrapping it, she cried, “Not again! No tomatoes, how hard is it to understand? Urgh!”

  I hid a smile.

  Antoine checked the bag for his own. He didn’t say much, but the way he latched onto Chelsea, following her around, let me know that he was loyal to only her. He doled out the rest of the sandwiches. “Give that to Max,” he said, handing me one of them. He turned over the empty bag. “Oh dear, looks like there’s nothing for you.” He smirked at me.

  I didn’t even think to order one for myself and I guess they didn’t care enough to ask. Whatever. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of reacting.

  I took the sandwich, reluctantly, into Max’s office. I needed to face him and sort this out.

  He was writing in a journal when I entered the office.

  “Your lunch,” I said, setting the sandwich on his desk.

  He gave a muttered thank you, not looking up. When he noticed me still standing there, he said, “What?”

  “Look, I’m sorry if I upset you. I swear that wasn’t my intention. The text I wrote probably wasn’t correct, I’ve been…forgetting things lately. So if I offended you, I am really sorry.”

  He sighed. “Apology accepted.”

  “Thank you.” I turned to leave.

  “It’s probably stress.”

  “What?”

  “Forgetting things, it’s probably just stress.”

  “Honestly, things haven’t been right since I started. It’s been one thing after another, I’m starting to wonder if I’m cursed.”

  “Curses aren’t as common as people think. I’m sure you’re fine.”

  I hesitated. Should I tell him what happened? I had to tell someone. What if it got worse?

  Wringing my hands, I said, “I did something stupid, on my first day here.”

  He put down his pen. “Define stupid.”

  “I opened a box of artefacts and I dropped one of them.”

  “Which artefact?”

  I described the orb to him.

  “I don’t remember seeing it. Come with me.”

  I thought he was taking me to Chelsea, to get me kicked out of here, but instead we headed to the artefact room. Rows of shelves held artefacts from around the world, behind a heavy steel door. The most dangerous stuff was under lock and key, in glass display cases down the hall. New arrivals were laid out on a metal table in the corner, ready to be shelved.

  Max lifted the clipboard hanging on the wall above the table, running a hand along it as he checked the list.

  “There’s no orb listed here. Do you see it here?”

  I checked the table but there was no sign of it.

  “It isn’t here, it’s gone.”

  Chapter Five

  “So, it glowed and then glyphs appeared?” Max asked, running his hands through his hair as he leaned back in his chair.

  “Yes,” I said. We’d been over it three times already and weren’t getting anywhere. We were back in his office, trying to figure out what and where the orb was. At least he hadn’t reported me to Chelsea so far. There was still time for that though, if we couldn’t figure this out. Who would take the orb? And why? It didn’t just disappear on its own, although I really couldn’t see any of the Watchers taking it. A new recruit might be responsible. Maybe Evan.

  “How screwed am I?” I asked.

  Max shrugged. “Without knowing more about it, I really couldn’t say.”

  I groaned, tipping my head back. I noticed the ceiling tile above us was stained black in the corner. Somebody should really clean that.

  “Adeline?” Max said.

  “It’s Dell. Are you going to report me? I know I screwed up, but it was an accident.” He didn’t owe me anything, but I desperately wanted to sort this out without Chelsea getting involved. She already made it clear that she didn’t want me here. I wondered if Evan ever screwed up this badly. He could have it in for the Academy after suffering at the hands of Chelsea and decided to get his revenge.

  Get a grip, Grimm. That’s insane.

  “We get deliveries all the time. At least thirty percent of it is junk. If the orb was too, then it isn’t an issue. Until we find it, there’s nothing to report,” Max said.

  Junk doesn’t usually glow. He is just saying that to make me feel better. Which I did appreciate, but I needed to deal with this head on.

  He jotted something down in a leather-bound journal. Probably about me.

  “My grandfather used to have a journal like that,” I said.

  “Most Watchers do. We have to keep notes for posterity. There’s an entire wall full of them in a room down the hall.”

&nbs
p; “There is?” I guess it made sense, they would be useful training manuals for trainees. It’s not like we had our own supernatural internet database to check. Although we really should. Not that some of the stuff online wasn’t accurate, but most of it came from folklore and the movies.

  “For research purposes only. You’ll get to start your own once you go out in the field.”

  “If I ever get that far,” I muttered.

  “Try not to worry about it. I’m sure it will turn up.”

  I don’t know how he could be so optimistic, but then again, it wasn’t his career on the line. At least he didn’t ask me why I did it. That would be too embarrassing to admit.

  I returned to the main floor, wondering what my next move would be. And what life would be like for a trainee Watcher in the unemployment line. I certainly couldn’t put monster research under special skills.

  “Everything okay?” Spencer asked as I passed his desk.

  “Yeah. Um, can you show me where the Watcher journals are kept?” I really wanted to take a look, see if Grandpa had one here.

  He pushed his chair back. “Sure. I’m not sure if you’re allowed to check them out though.”

  “That’s okay, I just want to take a look and see if any of my Grandpa’s journals are there.”

  He smiled and led me down a corridor. “Follow me. I heard stories about your grandfather. Is it true he managed to take down a rampaging hellhound in a Denver mall?”

  I grinned. “Yep. Single handed. And those suckers are almost unkillable. He cornered it in the food court and shot it with hell bane.”

  “Wow, that is so cool.” He seemed genuinely impressed.

  “I just hope I can do stuff like that someday.”

  “The mortality rate doesn’t worry you,” Spencer asked.

  “I know the job has risks. But so does being a cop or a firefighter.”

  “True, but they don’t risk being sucked into a hell dimension if they screw up.”

  “Well, yeah, but if we don’t do our job, everyone could end up being sucked into a hell dimension.”