The hart charged forward. In the way of dreams, Rachel knew that this was one of the four harts that ate at the World Tree. Only, this one had foresworn his old ways and become one of the Tree’s defenders. Somehow, again in the way of dreams, she knew that the dead hart in the dreamland of Transylvania was an image of the fallen brother of this titan.
The dream changed once more, and the titanic hart became a man. He stood twelve feet tall, with storm-gray antlers sprouting from his head. His black armor bore feathered epaulettes at the shoulders. His storm-colored wings were enormous, spreading over a hundred feet in either direction. Up he flew, through winds, through swarms of blood-red imps, through darkness. And in his arms, he carried Zoë Forrest.
He landed on the commons, scattering the snow. Roanoke Hall was silhouetted behind him. Bending, he placed Zoë on the icy ground. Then he departed with three flaps of his enormous wings, blowing the snow away from him in every direction.
In her dream, the great antlered man turned his head, and his eyes—those burning silver stars—gazed directly into Rachel’s.
“I give you this gift, in honor of your service for my wife.”
Surely, in reality, any such words were for Nastasia. Yet, in the way of dreams, Rachel felt as if they had been meant for her.
• • •
The ecstatic shouts of Joy O’Keefe woke Rachel from her strange and elfish dream. Zoë Forrest had returned.
Chapter Thirteen:
Training Sequence
By breakfast on Thursday morning, Thanksgiving Day, the tables in the dining hall had been pushed together in anticipation of the family-style feast to be held that evening. Rachel ate with Siggy, who had no place to go over a holiday; Nastasia, who had just been home; Zoë, whose father was away on business—despite that his daughter had just returned from being missing: and Joy, whose family had so many members attending Roanoke that her parents had decided to join the students that night for dinner, instead of asking their seven daughters to travel back to Ohio.
The Darlings and MacDannans were also present at breakfast—those who had not slept in. The whole group of them, John, Wendy, Oonagh, Conan, Liam, and Ian, would be leaving at lunch time to spend the holiday at the Darlings’ place, just outside New York City. Rachel knew both families still had one additional child at home: Taliesin MacDannan would be a freshman next year, and Michael Darling would come to Roanoke the year after. These youngsters, no doubt, were waiting eagerly for their older siblings to come home.
Seeing what a large group they made, Hildy Winters, who also had not gone home, asked why the Darlings and MacDannans did not emulate the O’Keefes and join the school for their holiday meal. Liam shot back that, while it was true that their absence would deprive the other students of having the pleasure of dining with his father, Finn MacDannan, the greatest enchanter in the world and a well-known musical sensation, they would also would be able to avoid having to dine with his mother, their math teacher. As Scarlett MacDannan was among the sternest of the Roanoke tutors, Hildy let the matter drop.
• • •
After breakfast, Zoë was questioned and cross-examined, first by the dean, assistant deans, and Roanoke’s head of security, Maverick Badger, and then by the Wisecraft. To the Die Horribly Debate Club and each of the others, Zoë said the same thing. After returning the shade of their dead Elf friend, Illondria, the Queen of the Lios Alfar, to her homeland, Zoë had lost hold of Nastasia while traveling between worlds on the return trip and fallen into darkness. She did not remember anything beyond that, until she awoke, standing in the middle of the commons amidst the swirling snow.
There was talk of putting her under the Spell of True Recitation and of a visit by the Grand Inquisitor himself, yet, nothing more came of it. According to Sigfried, who was spying on the staff’s private discussions with his all-seeing amulet, it was Assistant Dean Mr. Gideon who made sure the matter went no further. Siggy, who participated in a mutual dislike club with their True Hiss tutor, suspected that Mr. Gideon was up to something sinister. But Rachel reminded them that the Lios Alfar queen, Illondria, had been a friend of their history tutor. Maybe Mr. Gideon was shielding Zoë for the Elf’s sake.
The dean, however, confiscated Zoë’s slippers.
This was a huge blow to Zoë. It was also a blow to Sigfried, who had set his heart on visiting dreamland and investigating Storm King, as he had not yet been able to find a door leading into the waking version of the mountain.
It was a huge blow to Rachel, too, but she did not voice her dismay.
• • •
Rachel took advantage of the general confusion over Zoë’s return to slip in some time with Gaius. As they strolled through the snow-blanketed cherry trees and over the picturesque bridges of the Oriental gardens, she told him her theory about Great-Aunt Nimue and the rattle.
“So, you think this mysterious rattle with the A on it might have something to do with the fact that your great-aunt always calls your eldest sister by the wrong name?” asked Gaius. He raised a hand. “Just trying to make sure I followed what you were saying.”
Rachel nodded. “The rattle is just the sort of gift Great-Aunt Nimue would have chosen. I’ve seen her give out other pieces with similar workmanship.”
“Is the rattle still there? In your mother’s jewelry box? A silver rattle doesn’t sound like something your great-aunt bought at the local department store. Was it handmade? If so, it might have a trademark you could compare to other gifts from your great-aunt. If they are different, the similarity is probably accidental.”
“Jolly good idea!” Rachel perked up. “I’ll check on that over the Yule break.”
“Let me know how it goes. Though I rather think it will not pan out.”
“Oh?” asked Rachel.
Gaius gestured toward the distance, beyond the snow-covered rock garden and the pagoda. “Millions of people die every day. The Raven does nothing about it. Why would he go out of his way to hide the death of one baby girl?”
The reasonableness of his words took the wind out of her sails. Rachel kicked at the snow on the arched bridge. Seeing her dismay, Gaius tapped her lightly on the nose.
“Not everything is a mystery, Rach,” he drawled, smiling.
“Maybe not,” Rachel sighed, “but some power hid the rattle from my memory.”
Gaius leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Vlad tells me that Zoë didn’t remember anything. Is this true?”
Rachel nodded. “She doesn’t remember how she came to be here. She just found herself on the commons.”
“And there’s nothing else. No other clues?”
It was Rachel’s turn to lower her voice. “Well, there was my dream. But I haven’t told anyone about it, yet.”
“A dream? What happened?”
“Well, it started off as my usual nightmare—”
“Whoa! Hold on. Usual nightmare? You didn’t tell me you were having nightmares!”
“Only since Carthage. I…keep dreaming about what happened to Remus Starkadder.”
“Remus Starkadder? How does he figure into this? Have you seen him since the Dead Men’s Ball?”
“Yes. He was in Tunis. Only…something bad happened to him.”
“He deserves it. He was an ass.”
Rachel gave him a mock serious frown. “Mr. Valiant, there are ladies present.”
“My apologies, Lady Rachel,” Gaius gave her a mock bow in return. “He was a reprobate.”
“I give you that he was not a nice boy. He’s the one who betrayed me, you know. He told Serena O’Malley where I was.”
“Did he?” Gaius’s face grew dark. “Then I doubly want him to suffer for all eternity!”
“Well, you have your wish. He was dragged off by Morax’s servants. Dragged into the ground. Where he will be tortured for all eternity, I believe.”
Gaius grinned. Then he stopped grinning. Then, his face turned a little green. “It’s one thing to wish such a thing on someone. Anoth
er thing to have it actually happen to a guy I knew.” His resolve returned. He gritted his teeth. “He betrayed my gal. He deserves it.”
When Rachel did not agree, Gaius said in a low, dangerous voice. “Thanks to him, you were nearly burned to death, Rach. That would not have been a nice way to go.”
Rachel sighed. “That is neither here nor there. The point is: my nightmare changed into a dream about my Elf’s husband rescuing Zoë and bringing her to the commons. But I have no idea how much of the dream was real and how much was, well, a dream.”
“That’s rather fascinating. Do you mind if I tell Vlad?’
“No, not at all. Go right ahead. But tell me if he can make head or tail of it.”
“Will do.” Gaius grinned and, leaning over, kissed her on that spot, just below her ear, that always sent trills of exhilaration throughout her entire body.
Smiling, they walked back together, hand in hand.
• • •
“We’re going to practice. Would you care to come?” Nastasia asked Rachel, as she came back across the brightness of the snowy commons. “I wish you would.”
Rachel could not help smiling at the kind tone in the princess’s voice. Ordinarily, she avoided practicing with her friends, whose sorcery was quite advanced compared to hers. But the sincerity in the princess’s request touched her. She felt delighted that her friend desired her company.
“Yeah,” Joy piped up. “You should come. It’s pretty fun!”
“Very well,” Rachel declared with cheerful resolve. “How’s it done?”
“We use the dueling rules to determine what magic is safe,” said Wendy Darling, who had come up beside Joy, “but we fight one another as a group. Not in formal one-on-one duels like the clubs do.”
Nastasia added, “We feel it will better prepare us for real battles.”
• • •
Rachel followed her friends to a field west of Roanoke Hall where the half-foot of snow was smooth and untouched. It was bitterly cold, and a brisk wind blew the branches of the hemlocks and paper birches this way and that. Siggy’s new winter garments had come, and he now wore a heavy red parka, a Russian fur hat with ear flaps, thick wool mittens, and buff-colored caribou hide boots with waterproof bottoms. It made Rachel happy every time she saw him rolling in the snow while wrestling Lucky or dashing by as he threw snowballs.
A number of the other freshmen from Dare gathered on the practice field, though Rachel’s other roommates, Kitten and Astrid, were not present. To Rachel’s surprise, Wulfgang Starkadder joined them. She glanced at the brooding Transylvanian prince who might become her best friend’s fiancé and then examined him in her memory. Wulfgang had wavy dark hair, a very straight nose, and a jutting chin. He was handsome in a wolfish, almost feral, manner, but this handsomeness was marred by his constant, superior sneer. Rachel had never seen him turn into a wolf, but she had seen his now-deceased older brother Fenris transform.
Tepes, Wulfgang’s wolverine, nosed at something buried beneath the snow. Rachel found this particular familiar puzzling. Ordinarily, the shaggy brown and silver creature waddled around eating everything in sight. It almost rivaled Lucky with its voraciousness. But occasionally, Rachel would catch it, out of the corner of her eye, raising its head carefully to look around. During such moments, it had such a strange look in its eye—wise and compassionate and sad—almost as if it were a noble creature masquerading as a base one.
“All present?” Nastasia addressed the gathering of nearly two dozen students. The majority were freshmen but there were a few upperclassmen. “Very good! Everyone find your partner!”
Rachel started forward with a smile, but Joy reached the princess first and grabbed her hand, crying, “Let’s do our usual maneuver. Come on!”
Immediately, the two girls in their white-trimmed coats, one blue and one yellow, ran to the center of the practice field and stood back to back. The princess lifted her violin to her chin, while Joy raised her hands in the gesture for the taflu cantrip. Other students paired off, as if they had done this many times. Some lifted instruments. Others raised their hands.
“We begin in three, two, one!” called Nastasia.
Mayhem ensued. Spells flew. No one was using fulgurators’ wands or dueling rings, so they were limited to quick hexes and cantrips. Silver and blue sparkles glittered in the air, which now smelled like vanilla and peppermint. Familiars ran to and fro barking or yapping or growling and generally getting underfoot. Or rather, the cats watched, cool and aloof, from the sidelines, while the other familiars joined in the fray.
Rachel stood in the center of the field, all alone. Sparks flew at her from many directions. This was far more confusing than any real battle she had been part of because there were no sides. Everyone attacked everyone else. She spun about, attempting to use a taflu cantrip to parry incoming magic. But she could not look everywhere at once. A feeling of panic began to overwhelm her. This was almost as bad as being stared at by a large crowd
A vine, sprouting from the snow, wrapped around her leg and yanked upwards. At the same moment, a golden Glepnir band closed around her chest, trapping her arms at her side.
Next thing she knew, she was dangling upside down, kicking her feet in mid-air, unable to see. Her robe had flopped over her face and arms. She felt grateful that she had put on sweatpants under her uniform that morning, rather than stockings. However, while her sweatpants protected her modesty, they did little to keep out the biting wind. Every time the wind gusted, Rachel’s legs froze anew.
She dangled aimlessly, the blood rushing to her head. The band around her upper body put pressure on her bruised ribs. Outside the dark poplin of her robe, music and shouts rang out. Something bumped into her, hard. She cried out. It hurt, but not as much as the bruise to her heart. She had been so happy when Nastasia invited her to join their practice, but her friend had abandoned her without even finding her a partner.
Grabbing hold of her robe, she managed to gather it to her, inch by inch, until the hem was above her eyes. This took time because the black poplin kept slipping from the grip of her soft mittens. Her head was close to the ground, so when she peeked out under the hem, all she could see was legs and feet running hither and thither. Farther away, other sets of legs remained motionless, frozen by spells.
She pulled her robes up higher, temporarily grabbing them in her teeth, until she could grasp them more firmly with her mittens. Now she could see more clearly. To the left, Lucky wrestled playfully with Wulfgang’s wolverine, rolling back and forth in the pristine snow. Across the field, Ian MacDannan also hung upside down, swinging slowly. However, his arms were not restrained. He struggled and cursed as he fought the tangling vine that trapped him.
The goal of the game now seemed to be: stop Nastasia and Joy. Nastasia played her violin, paralyzing Hildy Winters with a blast of blue sparks with one stroke of the strings. Then, with another stroke, she blew John Darling onto his backside amidst a shower of silver sparks. (Hear! Hear! Rachel cheered gleefully, grinning at the discomfort of the boy who had publicly humiliated her more than once.) Meanwhile, Joy taflued the incoming spells, protecting Nastasia from attacks. Their division of labor—Nastasia casting while Joy defended—made for a winning combination.
“Get ’em!” cried Sigfried. “How are we going to beat the ogre and the storm goblin, if we can’t beat two girls!”
“Right,” replied Wulfgang Starkadder. “Let’s go.”
With a shout, Sigfried and Wulfgang broke free of the crowd and ran at the princess and Joy. Sigfried blew his trumpet, and huge blasts of silver sparkles whooshed toward Joy. She taflued them, sending the silvery sparks to one side or the other. Wulfgang usually played an accordion. Today, however, he held a pair of panpipes to his lips, blue sparkles rushing from the six slender reeds. The two boys rapidly closed the distance between themselves and the girls.
Joy shouted, pointing. Nastasia paused in her playing. When the boys came within twenty feet, she drew her bow acr
oss her violin, sending a ribbon of blue sparks at the oncoming boys.
Spotting the approaching danger, Wulfgang Starkadder grabbed Sigfried and swung the large blond boy in front of him. The hex struck Siggy, who froze instantly, mid-trumpet blow. Wulfgang lifted him and charged forward, using the motionless Sigfried as a shield.
The two teams traded attacks: Joy protected Nastasia; Wulfgang parried with Siggy. Beauregard, the princess’s Tasmanian tiger, leapt at Wulfgang, but the young Transylvanian prince ducked behind Sigfried. Resting his frozen classmate against his shoulder, he played his panpipes with one hand, freezing the beast in place. Frowning, Nastasia played faster and faster, trying harder and harder to stop the young prince, but he continued to duck behind Sigfried.
John Darling had climbed back to his feet. He now took advantage of the distraction Wulfgang provided to cast a cantrip known as the Word of Life at Nastasia. The cantrip caused vines to grow; it was the same one that had ensnared Rachel. Joy caught sight of him at the last minute. With a shout, she taflued the cantrip, redirecting it toward Wulfgang.
Vines sprouted from the ground near Wulfgang’s feet, wrapping around him and Sigfried. Nimble as a wolf, the Transylvanian prince back flipped free of the rapidly growing vines. In doing this, however, he left Siggy behind. Blue sparkles from Nastasia’s violin struck him, dancing up and down his body.
Most of the underclassmen had been neutralized. They stood frozen or hung from vines or struggled against Glepnir bands. The battle was now Nastasia and Joy versus John Darling and his cousin Oonagh. When the two upperclassmen had been fighting alone, the freshmen girls had been able to keep them at bay. Once the upperclassmen began working together, though, Oonagh defending with cantrips, while John played his flute, the tide of battle turned. Red sparkles flew from the upperclassmen’s instrument too quickly for Joy to stop them.
The two younger girls began to dance. Their feet moved uncontrollably. Joy cried out immediately, surrendering and asking to be set free. But Nastasia grimly danced on, trying to play her violin despite the wild motions of her legs. She kept this up for so long that John eventually got bored and paralyzed her.
The Awful Truth About Forgetting (Books of Unexpected Enlightenment Book 4) Page 15
