Meredith was very impressed with it and said that she thought those kinds of enchantments were really expensive. “Who sent it?” she wondered.
“I think it’s from Ms. Wong at the lost and found,” said Kuro. “I can’t believe she fixed it up and sent it to me.”
Kuro’s last package was nearly lost amid the pile of torn wrappings. It was an uneven mess of a package, hastily wrapped in brown paper. A simple note on lined paper said only “I’m sorry.”
He tore it open to find his shoes, full of leaves and covered in dirt but otherwise fine. Had Bella really had them the whole time? Had she taken them as further revenge? “Look! Charlie, look! She gave them back!”
Charlie didn’t respond. She was sitting very still and quiet, clutching something tight to her chest.
This seemed very wrong to Kuro. Charlie never sat quietly. He didn’t think her capable. Charlie was unflappably passionate. She could be ecstatic, furious, devastated, exuberant, but never subdued, never quiet. “Charlie, what’s wrong?”
“What?” she said in a sad soft voice. “It’s nothing. Just. . . .” She pushed the card over to Kuro.
My dearest Charlotte,
I’m sorry you couldn’t make it home for the holiday. I hope you are with friends there. We’re all fine here, despite the snow. You should always be with family for the Solstice, so I thought I should finally pass this along to you. If you can’t be close to us, at least you can have us close to you. It was your mother’s. She would want you to have it. Keep it close to your heart, as you are always in ours.
Merry Solstice
Love,
Dad
“It’s my mother’s locket,” said Charlie, wiping a tear from her eye. She struggled to open the little silver pendant. “It has pictures inside of my mom and dad from before I was born. Have I ever told you about my mom?”
Kuro shook his head.
“Dad says she was a great witch. An enchantress, and a Valkyrie before that. I didn’t know her much, though. She disappeared when I was too small to remember. Nobody knew where. Just vanished one day without a trace. She came back one day when I was five. She had been kidnapped by a warlock. The Hounds had finally tracked her down and freed her. For two months it was like she’d never been gone, like I had a whole family. She was really smart and pretty and nice, and then. . . .” She trailed off, partly because she was struggling to keep her voice steady, and partly out of frustration at being unable to open the locket. “You have small hands. Can you get this open?” she asked, passing it to Kuro.
Kuro took the circular pendant from Charlie. It was silver with an elven world-tree pattern on it. He popped it open with ease and caught a glimpse of the faces within before he could hand it back.
Kuro’s heart stopped at the sight of Charlie’s mother. He knew her. She was younger and looked happier and healthier than he remembered, but that young witch in the picture haunted his nightmares. “What was her name?” he asked with what little breath he could muster.
“Helena,” replied Charlie. “It’s a pretty name.”
“Helena Vigdis,” muttered Kuro in horror. It was her. Without a doubt, it was the woman who had been his tutor and caregiver for the first years of his life. It made a sick sort of sense, given how Phineas thought. He needed someone to raise a young child, so he just found someone that was already doing it. No need for training or uncertainty about qualifications. It was deeply, sickly rational. Of all the cruelties that Kuro had suffered, of all the beatings and hardships he’d gone through, the feeling in his heart at that moment was far worse than any of them.
Kuro had always feared his master, but he had never hated him. Now. . . now Kuro understood what it meant to truly hate someone. What they meant when they talked about evil. He hadn’t just murdered a woman. He had torn apart a family, Charlie’s family, and Kuro had just stood by and watched it happen.
“How do you know her last name?” asked Charlie innocently.
It was too much. Kuro ran. He dropped everything and ran from the lodge. He flew through the forest as fast as his feet could carry him, not even looking where he was going.
Seventeen
Feast
Kuro sat hidden in his hollow beneath a tree in the Spring Quarter, wishing some monster would emerge from the pelting rain and eat him so he would never have to face Charlie again. A rustle of brush nearby made him think that his wish might be granted, but instead of a monster, one of his running shoes hopped out from beneath some ferns and into his lap. It was followed shortly by Meredith.
“I figured out that returning spell,” she said, trying to get Kuro to smile. “That shoe really knows who owns it.”
Kuro did not look up.
“What’s wrong, Kuro? What’s going on?” She sat down in the rain, letting the muddy ground soak her skirt beneath her. “Charlie’s beside herself thinking she did something wrong. You need to go talk to her.”
“I can’t,” said Kuro.
“Of course you can. Whatever it is, Charlie will understand.” She leaned in and put a large comforting hand on his shoulder.
“You don’t understand. I can’t,” Kuro repeated.
“You need to face these things. Trust me. I’ll be there to help. I promise. You can do it.”
Maybe she was right. If any person deserved to know the truth, it was Charlie. He’d never disobeyed an order before, certainly never knowingly. If he could do it, then he should.
He nodded slowly and let Meredith help him up and lead him back to the lodge. Just thinking about what he had to say made his chest tighten and his knees go weak.
They shuffled into the lounge, trailing mud and water behind them. Charlie was still sitting where he had left her, surrounded by discarded wrappings. She looked hurt and confused, and her sailing ship hairstyle was listing badly to one side.
Kuro tried to take a deep breath but found he could manage only small gasps.
“Charlie,” he said to the floor, completely unable to meet her eyes. “I know what happened to your mother.”
“What do you mean?” Charlie asked. “I just told you what happened to her.”
“No, I mean. . . .” His jaw clamped shut, his need to obey his orders fighting his need to tell his friend the truth. He continued through clenched teeth, “I know why. I was there.”
His head started to spin. He wasn’t getting enough air.
Charlie’s face twisted in confusion and sorrow, but she hadn’t noticed what he was doing to himself yet. That was good. She would probably try to stop him.
“My master. . . .” Tears and sweat were streaming down his face as he forced out the next words. “He took her. . . . To raise me.” His knees gave out, and his head was getting light from the pain in his chest. He fell to the floor.
“What are you doing?” cried Charlie.
“He made me watch.” He could feel his heart slowing, a single beat a second. “When he killed her.” His vision was growing dark. “My master was Phineas Hearn,” Kuro confessed, and everything fell to silence and darkness.
He woke in his own bed. Had it been a dream? His head ached, and his body felt heavy and tired.
“How are you feeling?” The worried voice beside him sounded familiar but strange. He looked over to see Ms. McCutcheon watching over him. Her normally stiff face was soft and tired. Her brow was furrowed, but in the wrong direction, making her appear concerned and compassionate rather than angry.
He waited a moment before answering, taking time to see if his body would seize up again. “Okay, I think,” said Kuro.
“Good,” said the principal. “I think that we need to have a talk.”
Kuro had already had a very difficult day and really wasn’t prepared for this at all. He pulled the covers up over him and tried to hide.
“Earlier today, my gift opening was interrupted by a young woman confessing to crimes against you and others and demanding a just penalty.”
Kuro peeked bac
k out over the blanket.
“Belladonna insisted that you were innocent and claimed full responsibility for your fight and admitted to forging the note. I had to check her for curses to be sure she hadn’t been ensorcelled.” She looked at him suspiciously. “I went to find you to discuss the situation only to discover you unconscious on the floor.”
Kuro nodded.
“Meredith also told me that you claimed to be the servant of Phineas Hearn. Is that also true?”
“I can’t tell you. Please don’t make me tell you,” Kuro begged quietly from behind his blanket.
“You mean that, don’t you? You can’t tell me.” She pondered him for a moment. “Is that what happened? Did you say something you shouldn’t have?”
“I don’t know,” Kuro muttered. “Maybe. I’ve never done it before.”
“It nearly killed you.” Ms. McCutcheon’s eyes became so soft and sad that she looked like a different person. “You are an enigma, Kuro. And I fear that I may have misjudged you. I’m sorry.”
Had she just apologized? Kuro was beginning to suspect strongly that the principal was either drunk or had been replaced by a very poor impersonator.
“About these other notes,” she said, as though coming to a decision just then. “I will look into them. Is none of them yours?”
“No, they’re not,” Kuro muttered, afraid of being accused of lying again. “But it’s okay. We’re sorting it out.”
A more familiar look of incredulity and suspicion crept back into her face. “Sorting it out how? Nothing will be bettered by more rule breaking.”
“No rule breaking. I promise,” Kuro defended quickly.
“Well, I do prefer it if students can sort out problems on their own. If I had to step in every time there was a conflict, I’d be regarded as a tyrant.”
Kuro refrained from informing her that she was already widely regarded as a tyrant.
“If it gets out of hand, though, do come to me.” She almost looked as though she was going to put a comforting hand on Kuro but thought better of it. “Now, if you are up to it, dinner is being served. You have a very worried friend waiting for you, and I don’t think you will want to miss this dinner.”
Kuro climbed shakily out of bed and allowed himself to be led to the dining hall, but not before grabbing his new bag. Raucous noise was coming from within the hall, a cacophony of unfamiliar voices talking all at once.
Ms. McCutcheon opened the door to a bizarre spectacle. Lining the benches of the dining tables were lutin, dozens of them. Some Kuro recognized from serving dinners and cleaning the lodge, but there were many others, young and old. They were dressed in what Kuro guessed to be formalwear, with brilliant feathered caps, intricately woven sashes, and checkered tunics with puffed and slashed sleeves. The women had their moustaches waxed and sculpted into ornate patterns, and the men had braided bows and bells into their beards. They were standing on the benches engaging in what appeared to be competitive politeness.
“Allow me,” one squeaked as he picked up a platter and attempted to serve another.
“No, no. I couldn’t possibly. Allow me,” another responded, deftly snatching the platter and trying to dish out some food before the duel of propriety could turn against her again.
“It’s the lutin’s Solstice feast,” explained Ms. McCutcheon. She had a look of exasperation as she spoke. “The Autumn Lodge staff invite their whole families, and we make the meal for them, whatever they ask for. For reasons I cannot begin to fathom, what they ask for is always Blandlands takeout.” She gave Kuro an encouraging shove into the hall. “Enjoy the feast,” she said before turning to leave.
Kuro looked at the piles of food lining the tables. Far from the normal spreads of freshly cooked meats and vegetables, the table was littered with cardboard containers filled with fried rice, fish and chips, and hamburgers.
Moving like giants among the lutin were the other staff and students who had remained behind. Kuro noticed that they, too, were sporting beards and moustaches for the occasion, though the majority were false, tied on with string or stuck on with glue. Suddenly Arthur’s strange gift and cryptic message made sense, though Kuro couldn’t figure how he could have known about the feast. Regardless, he dug the little jar of moustache wax out and smeared some on his face. In moments, a full bushy beard sprouted from his face.
Kuro spotted Charlie, laughing and talking with a lutin. Charlie also saw Kuro. She climbed off the bench and ran to him but stopped before she reached him. She looked conflicted. Her eyebrows had a brief wrestling match as she decided what she felt, then she stormed up and punched him hard in the arm. “Stupid,” she said firmly.
“What?” Kuro wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t that.
“That was stupid,” she repeated. “You didn’t have to tell me. Not if it was going to hurt you.”
“I did,” Kuro pleaded. “It was my fault. You had to know.”
“No, I didn’t. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything.” Charlie’s unflappable certainty was starting to shine through again. “You’re my friend. I don’t care where you came from. Now stop being dumb and come eat.”
Charlie was clearly furious at him, but the only thing he could do to appease her seemed to be eating french fries and enjoying it.
Dinner was ludicrous. The lutin talked all at once and barely managed to eat anything because they were being too deferential to each other.
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly. Clearly that cheeseburger was meant for you.”
“Not at all. It would be my deepest pleasure if you were to enjoy it in my place.”
And so all the best seats and the best food went unclaimed due to the lutin being too polite to take it. Two young lutin, named Ingot and Lichen, refused to let Kuro touch the food until they had properly braided and decorated Kuro’s beard. Charlie made the mistake of replacing her moustache with one grown from Arthur’s magic moustache wax and was also prevented from eating while the lutin fussed over sculpting it appropriately for the occasion. The only explanation any of them was willing to give for any of it was “tradition.”
Meredith explained what little she understood between bites of egg rolls, her small handlebar moustache bouncing off her top lip as she spoke. “Solstice is New Year’s for lutin. They grow their moustaches and beards all year for Solstice and shave them off at the first dawn of the year. It’s really rude to show up without one. The Blandlands food is ’cause the lutin can’t go outside the veil, so it’s a treat to them when they get to eat it.”
“It really is a terribly misleading name,” an elderly lutin woman interrupted. She had been walking along the table pouring drinks. “Their food is delicious. Would you care to sample some of their finest root beer?” She presented a large plastic bottle of fizzy brown liquid to them as if it were the finest of wines.
Meredith bowed her head graciously and presented her glass to be filled, while Charlie loudly demanded further explanation. “I thought lutin could go anywhere. That’s why you deliver the mail, isn’t it? You can just go ‘pop’ and be anywhere you want.”
“Oh no, dear, not at all,” the woman explained while pouring out a small glass for each of them. “We can only go places that we’ve been, and never outside the veil. I wouldn’t even believe the veil existed if I hadn’t seen humans walking back through it with my very own eyes.”
“You can’t see it?” Charlie exclaimed, nearly falling off her chair in surprise.
“Is there something to see?” A neighbouring young lutin was suddenly curious. “I’ve heard that humans see water on the other side. Is that true?”
“It’s absolutely true!” Charlie gathered a bit of a crowd as she started to tell stories about what the veil looked like and what was on the other side.
It quickly became clear to Kuro that Charlie had rarely, if ever, left the veil. In her tales, cities were clean and idyllic, full of glass skyscrapers with airplanes flying betw
een them. Her oceans were teeming with boat-eating whales and mile-long squid. Not seeing anything to be gained by correcting her, Kuro took the opportunity to eat a cheeseburger and enjoy the clamour of the lutin.
He noticed Bella at the far end of the table. She was sitting with the few other Summerhill students. Kuro caught her eye with a wave. He wanted to thank her for returning his shoes. He had mostly forgotten her other offences against him, now that he had them back. A quick look at her scarred eye reminded him that she probably had not. He smiled weakly at her, but she did not return it. She only nodded slightly and returned to talking with her friends. Kuro wasn’t sure what this meant, but he had the sense that she wasn’t going to attack him again.
Dinner drew to a close, but it took some time for the students to escape the overwhelming niceties of the lutin. They made their way back to their dorms, laden with as many plastic-wrapped snack cakes, sodas, and chocolate bars as they were unable to refuse, and went to bed.
The rest of the break passed much too quickly. Kuro and Charlie split their days among exploring, cooking, and homework. They weren’t supposed to have any homework. Almost everyone else had finished their assignments before the break. Kuro and Charlie, though, were both slow at writing, so they had a lot of catch-up work, with reports on the lineages of the royal families of the courts and magical field theory. It was terribly boring stuff, but fortunately Meredith was equally bored with her own work and was more than happy to help her juniors with what she claimed was much more interesting subject matter.
In the evenings, they practised magic. Charlie was quite good at it and was extremely happy to give Kuro lots of advice. He was making slow but steady progress and could now reliably heat a glass of water beyond tepid, and he very rarely destroyed anything when trying telekinesis.
Before bed each night, Charlie read Kuro’s book to him. She enacted the daring escapes and harrowing battles of Balthazar Saeed as he stole ancient treasures from terrifying monsters around the world. Meredith and the other left-behind Lodgers joined most nights to watch her bound from couch to couch and duel shadows with a fire poker, all while reading aloud.
Volume 1: Pickpocketing Page 22
