Mystic High ✓

MH │47

In the previous chapter: The cultist pulled Oriane aside to persuade her to convince Uilliam to attend the blood moon ritual.

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CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

It was officially announced that class was cancelled for an entire week as it was impossible to host lessons with half of the rooms had been demolished. Restoration works were being undertaken throughout. Witches were flown in from everywhere to help. As she traversed across the hallway to the other side of the Main building, Oriane noted all the foreign people and workmen discussing the extent of the damage, including the bit of destruction done to the back façade of all the towers.

The Chancellor and some of the Councillors were around too, engaged in the restoration process. She overheard them rushing the workmen to get the repairs completed in time for next week's classes. After all, how could a college be called a college if it didn't teach? That seemed to be the main concern.

A few teachers and researchers had remarked that precious artefacts had been lost in the blast. However, it looked like the Chancellor wasn't too concerned about that bit. It had made a few staff members complain under their breaths about the lack of response over that. Oriane wondered what sorts of things were lost to the explosion. Thankfully, it was confirmed that indeed no one had gotten hurt, not even the caretakers were around at the time. The lockdown the Student Council initiated had most certainly done its job.

Once she had gotten past the busy hallways, reaching the staff area, the noise faded into some semblance of serenity. Only a few teachers were around and they appeared quite happy with the little break on their schedule. Some were lounging in the commons and taking a drink. Others were content chatting with one another over mundane topics. One or two were sitting in their offices, reading tomes and the like — whatever it was that teachers did during their spare time.

She went straight to the near end of the corridor of rooms, to the Executive's office, just to try her luck. There was a bit of light coming from within. Rapping softly on the closed door, she waited. There was no reply.

But leaning her ear against the door, she heard shuffles. Clearly, someone was inside.

"Uilliam?" she called out with familiarity, then blushed. It was supposed to be Mister McMurphy or Enforcer McMurphy, wasn't it...?

The door suddenly opened, revealing Gordon in his dark cloak frowning down at her. The hint of disappointment that rose up surprised her and she clamped it down.

"Miss Moore? What are you doing here?" he queried rather aloofly. His hands were tucked within his heavy long sleeves. Oriane glanced at his hidden hands and wondered if he was hiding something.

"Have you seen Mister McMurphy?" she asked him. "There is something I must speak with him about... concerning the matter last Saturday." She ended the sentence with a hitch as if it were a question.

Gordon shook his head lightly as if he too was equally frustrated with the situation.

He shifted his hands under the fabric of his sleeves, as if searching for something, then produced from within a ring made of wood the size of his entire palm.

"I meant to come find you later in the day to give you this. In fact, I should have given it to you yesterday but I was..." He paused to find the right words. "Held up."

Oriane lifted the ring from his hand gingerly. It had a rough texture despite the perfect circle it was as if the craftsman who made it hadn't bothered to polish the wood at the end. Turning it this way and that, she didn't notice anything interesting. "What is it?"