“Edwin, this is Ash. He’s—”
“Ashton,” the older boy corrected, and he extended his hand. Edwin shook it quickly and awkwardly. He wasn’t used to touching other people.
Walt mimicked Ashton’s tone and rolled his eyes: “Sorry, Ashton. Like I was saying—”
“Ashton Hotraben. I am Headmistress Vanora’s Oculus, so I really should be doing the introductions.”
Edwin gulped and looked at Walt. “What’s an Oculus?” he asked.
Ashton haughtily raised his little nose to the air. “We Oculi are Hawthorne’s best, entrusted with the great responsibility of keeping order in the rooms. We’re Headmistress Vanora’s eyes and ears, really.”
“It means he’s a snitch,” Walt whispered in Edwin’s ear, feigning discretion.
Ashton glared at Walt, but continued: “As I was saying, I am the Oculus for this and another room. In fact, I am the Senior Oculus for all of Hawthorne.” He pointed to a small homemade button clipped to his jacket. Edwin squinted to read it:
Ashton Hotraben
Hawthorne Orphanage for Displaced Children
Oculus Superior
“Yes, Ashton is very important, senior to Hawthorne’s other snitch,” Walt taunted, but Ashton wouldn’t be baited.
“Being an Oculus is quite an honor,” Ashton said. “It is a show of trust by our Headmistress. Tell me, how old are you?”
“Fifteen,” Edwin replied.
“Oh, you look much younger,” the boy chirped, “but that does mean you’re old enough to be eligible. You could become an Oculus yourself, in time. As I said, we Oculi are entrusted with a lot of responsibility. For instance, we are allowed to leave our rooms at night, and we do so often to find rule-breakers.”
“He’s lying,” Walt whispered while Ashton continued talking. “He can’t hear a thing over his own snoring.”
“We also have the privilege to come and go as we please,” Ashton added, glaring at Walt. “The Headmistress rewards those who follow the rules, and you would do well to follow my example.”
While Ashton paused with self-importance, Edwin looked to Walt, his mouth open but no words would come out. “What is it, Edwin?” Walt asked.
“The Headmistress,” Edwin squeaked. “What do you know about Headmistress Vanora?”
“Oh, I know Headmistress Vanora very well,” Ashton said, clearly excited that Edwin had asked, “but much of it she tells me in confidence. It’s not the kind of information I can share with just anyone.” The way he said ‘anyone’ seemed to Edwin to mean the opposite, with a little prodding. “But what I can tell you is that Headmistress Vanora is a great woman, like a mother, really.”
“And she lives here at Hawthorne?” Edwin asked.
“Yes, of course. She’s responsible for us all, and her room is downstairs. Children aren’t allowed there.”
Walt made like he was going to interrupt, but Edwin kicked him. It was a new day, and the spirit’s words nagged at him. He needed to learn as much as he could about Chardwick now that he knew there was another thing out there like the spirit. And he worried he didn’t have much time to heal his hand before the spirit began making threats. “But I imagine she has let you in a few times,” Edwin said, stammering only slightly.
“Well, yes, I have been lucky enough to be invited in on the rare occasion. Why do you ask?” Ashton asked suspiciously.
“Oh, no reason. It’s just Headmistress Vanora told me that my roommates would fill me in on anything she left out… and I figure the more I know, the better prepared I’ll be to please the Headmistress.”
Smiling, Ashton said, “That’s the spirit. I’ve spent so much time with less enthusiastic boys”—he looked at Walt—“that I can’t help but be suspicious.”
“No need to worry about me,” Edwin replied, proud to be speaking and pleased with how easily the lies were coming.
“I think you’ll do just fine here. It’s really is unfortunate that Walt was the first boy you met. He’s our worst troublemaker. You’re going to want to make sure you befriend the right kind of person here at Hawthorne. Headmistress Vanora is very perceptive, and getting in with the wrong crowd could be disastrous.”
“Aww, come on Ash, I’m not that bad,” Walt said facetiously.
Ashton sighed, and Edwin smiled in spite of himself.
* * *
Edwin knew he needed to find a way to heal soon. All the rest—the new people, the spirit, the dreams, and Chardwick—would have to wait. Ashton had just left the room to attend to “important Oculus business.”
As though reading his mind, Walt said, “So you need Headmistress Vanora for something.”
Taken aback, Edwin nodded.
“I figured that would be the reason you’d want to know more about her. What are you thinking?”
Edwin shook his head and stammered, angry with himself that his words were failing him again.
Walt was pacing the room. “She doesn’t have much worth stealing. Information? About your parents maybe? No, that’s not it…”
Edwin balked. Walt was reading him.
“Escape? Ah, I’m closer, but that’s still not it. You just need to sneak out a while. Am I right?”
Edwin was speechless. He was trying to form the words to tell Walt to leave him alone and mind his own business, but before he could get anything out, Walt added, “I could help you, you know.”
“Wh-why w-would you want to help me?”
Walt’s grin, friendly though it was, only made Edwin more nervous. “We’re roommates, and you’re new here and don’t really know anyone. I thought we could be friends.”
“B-but you don’t even know me,” Edwin replied.
“I could. Know you, I mean, if you want. You act like you’ve never had a friend before.” Walt’s eyes grew wide with surprise. “Oh, you haven’t. You’ve never had a friend!”
Edwin blushed and shook his head. He thought of the spirit.
“Well, that’s all about to change,” Walt declared. “We don’t ever get anyone new around here. Everyone’s going to be really curious about you. You’ll have loads of friends in no time.”
Ashton suddenly reappeared at the door. “Come along now. No dawdling,” he said.
As they left the bedroom, Walt explained, “Time for dinner. We’re going to the Great Hall. Don’t let the name fool you.”
“Ignore him,” Ashton said, following behind them. “You should know that before Hawthorne was an orphanage, all of Hawthorne was once one big room. Headmistress Vanora herself oversaw its conversion into all you see today.”
Knowing from Ashton’s tone that he was supposed to be impressed, Edwin said, “Erm, that’s really something, Ashton…”
“Before Headmistress Vanora, children who lost parents in the mines and couldn’t find an apprenticeship lived on the streets,” Ashton continued. “Imagine, children on the streets in Chardwick. Headmistress Vanora rounded up those children and had them construct everything you see here. Children! A better group than the ungrateful lot we have in Hawthorne today, to be sure.”
Walt scoffed and said, “Vanora doesn’t care a thing for any of us. Everyone knows Vanora only founded Hawthorne because she hoped that solving the orphan problem would earn her recognition and a seat on the Council.”
His pinched nose in the air, Ashton said, “I think Headmistress Vanora is a woman of great patience and vision. They should put her on the Council.”
Walt snorted, but they were already downstairs. The door across from Headmistress Vanora’s office was open, and red candlelight flickered into the hall. Inside, the room was warm and bright.
“So many candles,” Edwin remarked. “Enough to light the Medgards’ inn for a year.”
“It’s not usually like this,” Walt said. “Tallow is notoriously expensive. The fat all has to be imported from Newick, and the Tallow Chandlers Guild keeps a tight lid on production. My grandfather says—”
“Shh,” Ashton hissed, his nose held h
igh as he led them forward.
One long wide table filled the length of the room. Walt bent down and excitedly whispered more in Edwin’s ear: “Lady Nemain is here! That explains the candles.”
Edwin followed Walt’s gaze and saw a thin woman with a long thick braid trailing down her back. Most of her hair was black, but Edwin caught sight of a few strands of gray. Her mouth was upturned in a wide grin, and the candlelight played tricks with her eyes, which at the moment were staring right at him.
On the table in front of her sat several large iron pots filled with stews and bread. Headmistress Vanora stood next to Lady Nemain, scowling. There were a few boys waiting in line in front of them, but Ashton pushed his way forward, saying, “Move aside, move aside. Oculus coming through, move aside.”
Walt and Edwin stayed behind, and Walt leaned over and said, “You feeling all right, Edwin? You look tired. You’d think after that nap you took you’d be well rested.”
“I’m fine,” Edwin lied, wondering where the spirit had gotten off to. He hated to admit it, but it was right when it said he felt better and physically stronger when it was with him. All around him, he saw that the children’s eyes darted anxiously between him and Lady Nemain.
When he reached the front he found the remains of pork stew, a basket still half-full of bread, and a pot of beans. “We are so glad to have you here in Chardwick, Edwin. My name is Nemain. I think we’re going to be fast friends, you and I.” The woman smiled down at him, while Headmistress Vanora filled his plate with food.
“Erm, thanks,” Edwin replied. His thoughts were on the beans. He got his food and left as quickly as he could.
At the table, he saw that Walt had saved him space. Ashton sat on the other side of the table, visibly uncomfortable. Under his breath, Walt asked, “Why has the Lady Nemain taken an interest in you? She never comes here.”
“I thought she made the uniforms,” Edwin said.
“That’s charity,” Walt said. “As the Lucent’s ward, she’s expected to set an example. It’s different. She never makes personal visits to Hawthorne.”
Edwin shrugged. He and Walt hadn’t even started eating, but other children were already finishing and walking up for seconds. Headmistress Vanora seemed to begrudge these second helpings but said nothing in front of Nemain. Three children passed behind him.
“There’s Sam going for more food. Sam and I are twins,” Walt remarked.
Looking up, Edwin could only see two faces: those of a thick muscular boy and a girl with pigtails. Behind them he saw the legs of the third. The girl with pigtails turned to smile at Ashton, and Edwin caught a quick glimpse of Sam.
“Don’t stare,” Walt added, elbowing him in the side.
“Sorry,” Edwin mumbled, feeling his cheeks burn red. “Is Sam a boy or a girl?”
“What kind of question is that?” Walt asked indignantly.
Before Edwin could answer, Ashton spoke up from across the table. He was gesturing aggressively at Edwin with a piece of bread in his hand. “Why haven’t we ever seen you around, Edwin? The inn isn’t very far, and even the Medgards come down from time-to-time.”
“I don’t know,” Edwin muttered, his voice cracking. Everyone around him was hanging on his every word. “I asked every year to come down for the winter fair, but they always said no. And when I asked about an apprenticeship, they said an apprenticeship wasn’t something for boys like me.”
“So you’ve never been in the mines?” a young girl next to Ashton asked Edwin. Edwin shook his head. “Lucky!” she exclaimed.
Holding his fork in midair, Ashton looked down at the girl. “And why would never going to the mines make Edwin lucky?” he asked, and the girl shrank back. “Are you dissatisfied with your work in the mines?”
The girl shook her head, clearly scared.
“Such thoughts are blasphemous. Do we need to have a conversation with the Headmistress?” Ashton asked.
Walt flung a piece of bread at Ashton’s head. “Lay off, Ashton. Everyone knows horrible things crawl out of those mines, and we all know someone who has died in there.”
“Walter Morrisey,” Ashton screeched, his voice barely above a whisper. He picked up the piece of bread off his lap. “Dead parents or no, throwing bread across—”
“And what about your parents, Edwin?” Walt asked, dismissing Ashton’s outcry. “Your real parents, I mean. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone talk about your real parents, or why you were sent up to the Medgards’ inn.”
Before Edwin could answer a shadow appeared in the doorway, and a bearded man with a cane hobbled inside. Headmistress Vanora rose.
“Master Carrion,” Headmistress Vanora said obsequiously. “An honor, always. Two members of the Council is quite a rarity. What brings you to the other side of Chardwick?”
The man frowned and scanned the room. “Which is the boy?” he demanded. Edwin sank lower in his chair.
“Master Carrion, I hate to say, but this really isn’t appropriate,” Headmistress Vanora began. No one else moved.
“The boy,” the man barked. “Edwin Medgard has no business being here.”
“Master Carrion—” said Headmistress Vanora.
Lady Nemain rose and said, “Headmistress Vanora, if I may. Carrion, the boy is safe here. Really, if we could talk about this later or—”
“It’s not the boy I’m worried about. He has no business—”
“That’s enough, Carrion,” Lady Nemain said evenly. “Now I said we shall discuss this later. If you don’t mind, we’re in the middle of dinner.”
Master Carrion’s face turned as red as his beard, and Edwin thought he saw the man reach into his pocket and pull out a black vial. Edwin blinked, and the vial was gone, presumably back in the man’s pocket. “The rest of the Council will hear of this, Nemain.” With a huff he turned on his cane and stormed out the door.
“I don’t see why people are so interested in you,” Ashton declared, just loud enough so the people around him could hear. “You’re only from the ledge, after all. It’s not like you’re from Newick. Now that would be something.”
“Don’t be jealous, Ash,” Walt said.
At the front of the table Headmistress Vanora cleared her throat. “Hopefully that’s all the excitement we are going to see for one evening. Finish up dinner, children.” She and Lady Nemain sat back down.
Edwin was picking at his food, but with everything that had happened, he hadn’t touched his beans. Walt, it seemed, hadn’t either.
“These beans aren’t even cooked,” Walt complained after taking a bite.
In a voice that said he was pleased with himself for knowing such things, Ashton said, “I heard the cook tell the Headmistress that the fire went out under one of the pots this afternoon. He didn’t even notice until it was time to serve them.” The other children didn’t seem interested, and Ashton regarded them with disdain.
Edwin scooped up a spoonful of beans but hadn’t even gotten them to his mouth when he felt the spirit’s cold essence crawling up his pants, trying to get his attention. Edwin quickly understood and whispered the word to join. Then, finally taking in a mouthful, he let the beans dissolve on his tongue. The spirit had been right. Edwin ate his beans ravenously and felt the best he had in days.
CHAPTER 6: THE LUCENT SPEAKS
At first Edwin thought the sound of Ashton’s snoring woke him. But then there was a loud noise, like an explosion, and his bed shook. He heard Walt bolt upright in his bed, and ask, “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” Edwin said. At the end of the room, Ashton rolled over and smacked his lips, still snoring.
There was another loud screech that shook the building, and Edwin saw a light appear under the door, followed by kids’ voices in the hallway.
“Come on,” Walt said, jumping out of bed. Ashton opened his eyes and looked around groggily, but before he could say anything, Walt and Edwin were out the door, pushing their way past the other kids and down the stairs.
Everyone followed Walt’s lead, and they met Headmistress Vanora at the landing, her disheveled hair covering half her face.
“Back upstairs, children,” she hissed, blocking their way. “Chardwick’s under attack! Hide in your rooms.”
One girl gasped, another shrieked, and a little boy began crying, but Walt smiled. “Attacked by what?” he asked, sounding excited.
Headmistress Vanora was visibly upset, and her voice shook. “I don’t know—it’s just like all those years ago when that—that—thing—escaped the mines. Now don’t argue with me. Upstairs!”
The kids behind Edwin and Walt began running back to their rooms, but Edwin couldn’t move. His spirit had given him nightmares his entire life, and he knew what had escaped the mines. Before he had time to think about what he was doing, Edwin had run past Headmistress Vanora and was out the front door, running barefoot over the snow-covered ground, not caring a bit about the cold. He was surprised when he heard Walt yell, “Edwin, wait up!”
“Walt, what are you doing?” he cried. Back at Hawthorne, he saw Headmistress Vanora standing at the door to Hawthorne yelling at them to come back, but when another loud wail shook the village, she pulled her head back inside and closed the door.
“Me? What are you doing?” Walt asked, catching up and running beside him.
“I have to see what came out of the mines. I couldn’t wait at Hawthorne. You?” He sensed his spirit following behind him, but it kept its distance.
“Same reason. You didn’t think you’d get to have all the fun alone, did you? And if you’re trying to get to that sound, you’re going the wrong way. This road dead-ends.”
“Lead the way,” Edwin said, glad for the first time to have met this new boy. He followed Walt through Chardwick’s narrow, twisting roads, and was glad Walt didn’t ask him more questions. He wouldn’t have known how to explain his fear of the mines, or his curiosity of what might come out of them. Instead, Walt told him about the unusual decade of peace Chardwick had enjoyed from mines, and Edwin got the impression Walt had been waiting a long time for a night like this.
The Dark Passenger (Book 1) Page 5
