Tells

by Scott Rhine

  Illith said, “Those pegs on the climbing board?”

  Heather the Harvard groupie couldn’t come up with anything that good. “My high heels?”

  I raised my hand. “The fire alarm.” Thank you, Dad.

  “Excellent, Morris. You attract attention on a big scale and let the perp know help is on its way for you. Then what?”

  I pulled the dime roll out of my pocket and made a fist around it.

  “We have a Girl Scout with us. A gold star for the newbie. Always be prepared, ladies. This simple tool can also save your skin against a host of supernatural attackers. You can even use it to draw a silver thaumaturgy circle.”

  Interesting. Did Dad know that, too?

  “Will lip balm work as well?” asked Heather.

  Coach leaned close. “If you want to hang around next period during your study hall, you can work out with some of my Body-Sensitive seniors we’re grooming to protectors.”

  Her term reminded me that people were smart or in-tune with the universe in different ways. “Like Lucretia and her reflexes?”

  She nodded. “What career track are you on?”

  “Inquisitor,” I replied without hesitation.

  Her too-bushy eyebrows went up, impressed. “You’ll fit right it, short stack. A lot of my girls end up in law enforcement.”

  When the others hit the showers, I could hear people calling Lilith by her new name. It had spread through the student body like a meme.

  During last period, I met Lucretia’s cadre of protectors in training and jogged around the track with them. I was at least two years younger than all of them, but I kept up with every exercise they threw at me. Literally thrown in some cases. One drill had the coach lobbing racquet balls at a “client” while we did anything we had to in order to protect our person. These ladies had moves as they dove and slid, but I didn’t do too badly either. I used the gymnastics mat as a shield to save myself from bruises. No rules against it. By the end of the class, I was like their cadre mascot. They rubbed my head for good luck on the way out.

  We showered and headed back out to the SUV with our gear. On Thursday, I’d bring my own gym bag.

  As we climbed into the vehicle, I waved to Dad. “Hey, I didn’t see you at lunch.”

  “The other faculty members took me out to welcome me.”

  Vincenzo chuckled.

  I didn’t. “Why?”

  “Since I’ll only be coming in for the last period most days, they wanted a chance to get to know me.”

  Was it me, or was he a little tipsy? “Most days?”

  Lucretia answered that one. “Men don’t get to come to chapel, even staff. It dampens the aura.”

  “I’d like to hear someone present that to Justice Ginsberg. So what did you have for lunch?”

  “Mexican at a place nearby. They have huge margaritas. I mean, they couldn’t drink on duty, but people kept buying them for me. They were very friendly.”

  I nodded to Lucretia. She’d been right. These hormone-filled hussies had their eye on my dad. He didn’t have a clue what they were after. “Did any of the ladies offer you anything else?”

  “Just a ride back to the school.”

  “Uh-huh. Who’d you pick?”

  “Miss Creutzfeldt. She has a van that can hold more people.”

  I relaxed. Maybe being clueless would protect him. Mad Cow dressed like a Muslim woman without the head wrap. No skin showed. Plus, how sexy could a math teacher be? She had to put on glasses every time she wanted to write on the board. “Sure. Vans are nice. I like the cup holders.”

  Once we got rolling, the guys chatted about sports again. I opened my bag of chips and shared with Lucretia.

  “You’ve earned the right to call me Luca,” she said.

  I smiled. “I feel a little guilty about how fast we took down Illith.”

  “Don’t. Her mom is a Swiss banker, and she’s lorded it over everyone. We all enjoyed seeing her taken down a notch. Any burning questions after surviving your first day?”

  “Yeah,” I said, taking another chip. “What do Books look like? Are they made of human skin or something?”

  “No! That’s necromancy.” She held a finger to her lips and pulled a metal lockbox out of the storage section in back. It opened with her fingerprints. Inside, I saw another Plexiglas case protecting a normal old journal. Her Book had a burgundy leather cover, stained with seawater and lovingly restored with boot polish and oils. Tucked beside it was something like a letter opener. Stretching my hand out, I could feel the waves of history emanating. It had been in her family since before the Colony was founded.

  Luca blocked my hand. “Ah! No touching someone else’s Book. Very private. People have been killed for less.” She slipped into white military parade gloves, which were thin but sturdy. The case opened with a snick and the inrush of air.

  “Gloves because it’s sacred?”

  Holding her right gloved hand over the leather, she explained, “Body oils can stain the paper. The cuttlebone tool is for turning the pages safely.” She made an elaborate swirl over her mouth with her left hand and then drew a line between my earlobe and her lips. Suddenly, I could hear the roar of a seashell in my ear.

  “What was that?” I asked, unable to keep the awe from my voice.

  “A simple privacy spell. We don’t share our secrets with men, no matter how nice.” Her voice echoed like it was coming from a bad long-distance line.

  “Dad’s resistant to mind magic like me.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “Interesting. But this spell doesn’t affect him. It changes the air around us and bends the sound.”

  Magic is awesome! I want to perform it, too. “What’s the gesture you did?”

  “Several, actually. Spells are a sign language for the unseen. Spirits do the heavy lifting with real magic. Humans don’t have the power for the big stuff. Your family spirit is a go-between who arranges the contract. They can’t hear us anymore, but they’re linked to us by our blood and the Book.”

  “Why are you trusting me with all this?”

  “Because you have one of your own, one older and more powerful than mine. Besides, I’ve been listening to you all day with another spell.” She grinned.

  “You witch!”

  “Relax. It’ll fade at sundown. You can dispel it completely with a drop of holy water to your lips. Though, I wouldn’t recommend using the hand fonts at the chapel doors. The younger girls don’t wash their hands. Traces of feces get mixed in.”

  I made an appropriate gagging sound. “How many spells can you cast a day?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Only one at a time. It’s not like the spirit of the Book is a genie who grants exactly three wishes. I’ve performed lots of small cantrips, but the odds of failure increase with each favor. It’s sort of like bothering your father when he’s watching a football game. He’ll listen to the first few requests because he loves you, but eventually, he’ll tell you he’s busy or tired. Oh, never get lazy and ask the Book to do something you could do yourself. They’ll tell you all this in your intro class.”

  Books are so awesome! I had to locate where Mom had hidden hers, but that would be hard to do without involving Dad.

  9. Chapel Day

  Wednesday, Dad didn’t ride along. He had to drive to Holy Oak to wrap up business obligations and deliver a few photo packages. As soon as I arrived at school, I turned in my essay to the headmistress. She glanced at the bottom and handed it back. “You need at least three references in MLA format.”

  “You can’t change the rules after I turn it in,” I said.

  “Make that four,” she replied with a cool smile. “In longhand. A Colony girl must have impeccable penmanship and not rely on computers.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said between gritted teeth. I’ve seen Cool Hand Luke. She wasn’t going to break me.

  During Chemistry, the teacher described the difference between compounds and elements. I had to take notes like crazy, something
I didn’t do often. I was shocked to find out how many garden plants are poisonous. It was even more surprising to hear Blaise answering every question about lethal household chemicals.

  “How do you know all this?” I whispered, taking notes like crazy.

  “My mother is a senior Inquisitor. She’s always sharing some morbid story.”

  “That’s so cool.”

  “No. She’s never home. My grandparents watch me most of the time. Sometimes I think she’s secretly glad I haven’t manifested so she doesn’t lose her field job.”

  From the main lobby, the office was on the left hallway, and Math was the first classroom to the right. Blaise told me, “It’s the first class people see when they tour the school. Creutzfeldt has all the junior high and high school kids. She wins best teacher awards all the time, so the school wants to showcase her.”

  It turns out Mad Cow was pretty cool. After she explained the table that showed the odds for rolling any given number on two dice, we took turns throwing dice while blindfolded. The odds matched the tables pretty well.

  Taking the blindfolds off, we tried to influence the rolls away from seven or eleven. Many girls in the class could nudge the odds a little, say 5 percent in their favor. My rolls were strictly average, but with my guessing talent, I could still bet on other girls’ throws and make money. Blaise’s rolls actually got worse over time because some of the girls were pranking her, which made me want to help her find her talent all the more.

  History made me proud of my heritage. The first woman covered in the lecture was my ancestor, Anne Hutchinson. Since women weren’t allowed to be doctors in that era, she had to advertise her services as a midwife or herbal healer. Her techniques were a century ahead of those draining people with leeches. Yet, she was branded a witch, excommunicated and exiled for helping people.

  Raising my hand, I said, “I thought she was arrested for her success as a minister.”

  The teacher welcomed the transition. “Indeed, she was also a mayor and a true Renaissance woman. She preached a personal relationship with God and emphasized mercy. Her treatise on intuition is the foundation of our movement as well as the first chapter of your family Book. Perhaps you could show us the original someday?”

  Feeling all eyes in the room on me, I replied, “Sure, as soon as I start that part of my training.”

  Basically, everything Anne did or said would have been perfectly at home in the feminist movement in the 1980s.

  During my first remedial period in the basement, my school jacket helped with the goose bumps, but my hands were still cold. If this place had theme music, it would be from an old Dracula movie. I could hear rats scurrying behind the bookcases. Next time, I’d bring gloves and earbuds for soothing music.

  I fumbled with my phone to look up supporting documents only to be reminded that the dungeon didn’t have cell coverage. Instead, I read about angels, Kabbalah magic, and rule of hospitality that dated to ancient Greeks. According to the prime sources, many homeowners who sheltered travelers entertained angels or gods without knowing. Have Dad and I?

  It didn’t take long for my cousin to fall asleep while writing in her composition notebook. I slipped the journal from under her hand to take a peek. Maybe I could pick up on something she’d missed without her getting so defensive.

  She wrote some dark stuff on those pages. Blaise experienced nightmares on a regular basis, which explained why she fell asleep in school so often. Crows scared the tar out of her, and she was convinced they were following her. That’s probably why she doesn’t get too much sunlight. The problems were pretty easy to spot but not the solutions. I tucked the notebook under her cheek and pondered her fears.

  Mom wouldn’t let me watch R-rated movies for fear of traumatizing me. Had Blaise’s mother, Captain Harlow Hutchinson, shared too much of the world of murder and violence?

  On the shelves, I found a reference book about dream symbols that was pretty vague but had a few interesting ideas. The first was that crows were affiliated with death because they cleaned battlefields of carrion. Since she was sick so often, maybe Blaise was worried about dying. Crows were also among the most intelligent birds and could hold grudges. Thirdly, they could be messengers from the unseen world.

  I listened as hard as I could for the rest of the period, but I heard nothing but waddling rats gnawing on the wiring. At any moment, the lights could vanish. Would I be able to find my way out of this warren in the dark? I counted the number of steps to each turn.

  For lunch, I picked the vegetable and pasta dish. The hint of Cajun spice made it fantastic. After saying grace, I whipped out my phone to use the browser.

  “What’s this half-moon symbol for?” I asked. “Something witchy?”

  Luca put down her breadstick. “Do not disturb.”

  “Oh, yeah. For the test. How do I undo it?” I passed the phone to Luca when she held out her hand. When she used a phone, her fingers flew like they were casting a spell. I couldn’t keep up.

  The phone buzzed like a kicked hornet’s nest. Messages filled the screen.

  “Crap. I forgot about Dina.” She had spammed me with texts, asking where I was.

  Luca laughed. “Your girlfriend?”

  “My bestie back in Holy Oak High. Things have been a little crazy.” I accepted my phone back and texted a brief reply to her. “Dad got a new job at a private school near my aunt. Lower tuition. Talk later.” I was hoping to be offline before she fired another volley of questions. I didn’t have good answers for her. Dad had left a short and equally vague voicemail for Zak, explaining why we’d be staying with my aunt this year.

  Glancing over my shoulder, Blaise asked, “Is that true?”

  “Technically. Aunt Audra is paying my bills, so Dad is paying less. What do you expected me to say to her? I can’t tell a normal friend that I attend a witch school now.”

  “Sensitive,” both girls corrected in unison.

  “Potato, tomato.” I searched the web for citations I could use on my manners essay while I could still operate my phone. I scribbled notes on my first draft so I’d be able to rewrite the essay in cursive. I flipped it back to moon mode so I wouldn’t have to hear the buzzing before I was ready.

  That’s when Illith crossed the room to toss her garbage. She hadn’t eaten much. This gave me an excuse to change the subject to more gossip fun. “What’s the deal with her hair. Is she cross-dressing or gay?” I sipped my juice to cool the hot spices.

  With a shrug, Luca said, “Dunno. Sometimes fire weavers or glass artisans shave close like that to prevent their hair from catching.”

  “Great. I just pissed off the one person who could burn down the school in revenge. Now I’ll never learn magic.”

  Blaise shook her head. “You’re both wrong. I met her during my last hospital stay. She had cancer.”

  I dropped my cup on the floor.

  Meg came out from behind the counter with a rag. “Is everything okay, dear?”

  “I’m just clumsy. I just found out a friend was sick.” And I’m a jerk. “Give me that. I don’t want you leaning over to clean my mess. Your back will hurt.” I grabbed the rag and mopped up the spill.

  “You’re so thoughtful,” Meg said, beaming.

  I wanted to crawl under the table. Instead, I stuffed the rag in my empty cup so it wouldn’t drip the whole way to the kitchen. When my hand touched hers, I learned something awkward. “Um… what’s your bra size?”

  She blinked. “Double E.”

  I couldn’t believe the words were coming out of my mouth. “You might consider a breast reduction to ease you back stress.”

  The server cocked her head. “Young lady, you make more sense than the last three doctors I’ve seen. Thank you.”

  “Totally not awkward,” Luca said. “If they catch you looking at old ladies’ chests, they might not let you shower with the rest of us in PE.”

  I tried to smack her in the shoulder, but she dodged. “You telegraph.”

&nbs
p; Ignoring her, I sat back down by Blaise. “What kind of cancer?”

  “Lung,” she replied. “From secondhand smoke. That’s the worst. The nurses and other workers gave her no sympathy because they assumed she got sick from smoking. But it was her dad all along. He loves Havana cigars.”

  “I’m a terrible person.”

  “Come on,” Luca said, grinning. “You have to admit how funny this is. Even when you try to make fun of someone, it ends up being the truth. Ill-ith. Right?”

  Very quietly, Blaise whispered, “Everyone deserves the right to breathe.”

  I’d lost my appetite. I was going to trash the rest, but Luca volunteered to finish my meal. She burned a lot of calories working out so much. Though I dashed out of the cafeteria, I couldn’t find Lilith before the bell rang.

  The day went by in a haze. The bowling ball of guilt in my stomach kept growing heavier. In the basement, I kept my hands tucked under my armpits to warm them. How long could someone be trapped in this dungeon before an adult came to investigate?

  ****

  Before chapel, I remembered what Luca had said about breaking the spell. I wanted to find a source of pure holy water, but I also needed to feel clean again. Locating a baptismal font in a side room, I splashed some on my lips. When the organ music stopped, I hurried to sit next to the rest of my class. Since she was a pariah, Lilith sat on the end, and I had to take the empty spot beside her. The Cajun spice twisted my gut, and I started sweating.

  “The stained-glass Stations of the Cross are beautiful,” I whispered.

  She looked wary, worried I was setting her up for another verbal punch. “A lot of alumni have their weddings here.”

  The idea of weddings hurt her. Why? Did it have something to do with the cancer? Was she unable to have children? The guilt punched me again.

  Make it stop!

  We sang a banal hymn while the female faculty filed in, dressed in black robes. The headmistress approached the lectern at the front. “This will be an unusual service for some of you. Remember than nothing you hear or see on these premises shall be shared with those outside the school.”