“Ma’am, there’s a thinking glass in the belfry. Sigfried could show you his memories.”
Siggy threw Rachel a dark look, but Agent MacDannan’s face lit up. Eager to take advantage of Rachel’s suggestion, she shepherded the three students out the door.
Chapter Four:
Conversation with the Cutest of Boys
The foyer of the Watch Tower was now crowded with students. Proctors herded more through the door. As Agent MacDannan led them toward the stairs, Rachel recognized those from Drake Hall with whom she had recently fought. Their eyes were no longer cloudy. Rachel hoped that this meant these students were no longer under the control of the geas Dr. Mordeau had cast to compel them to fight their fellow students at the evil tutor’s behest.
A visiting nurse from the Halls of Healing in New York City stood by the front door, playing the flute. She was dressed in the white habit and wimple of the Order of Asclepius. Green sparkles swirled from her instrument. The air near her smelled of freshly-baked bread as the magic swirled around the entering students, healing their cuts and bruises.
Most of the young people crowding into the foyer were dressed in subfusc, the least formal of the three uniforms allowed at Roanoke Academy. The girls wore white blouses, black skirts or slacks, and thin, black velvet neck ribbons, almost like ties. The boys wore dark suits. Over this, both wore half capes that fell from their shoulders to their upper thighs. A few wore their square mortarboard caps, but most had lost their hats in the recent tussle.
Only three of these students were dressed in the full academic style—long black robes from neck to ankle. Two towered above everyone else in the foyer, including the adults. William Locke was a serious-looking young man with dark hair and a wry, sardonic expression. Detached yet curious, he surveyed the room around him as if he were viewing a fascinating scientific experiment. He wore his fulgurator’s wand attached to his wrist in a spring-loaded device that could release it into his hand with the click of a switch.
Even taller stood the impossibly-handsome Prince Vladimir Von Dread. He was exquisitely built, with piercing dark eyes and wavy black hair with red highlights. His robes bore a golden royal crest on the left breast. The Crown Prince of Bavaria clenched and unclenched his thick black leather dueling gloves and frowned at the other students from Drake, as if each had personally disappointed him. Perhaps they agreed—most could not meet his gaze.
Next to Locke and Dread, a much shorter boy lounged against a pillar. He regarded the proceedings around him with amusement, as if he enjoyed watching life’s little dramas. His chestnut hair was pulled back into a short ponytail. His robes were worn and patched. A fulgurator’s wand, a length of teak and brass tipped with a sapphire, hung from a loop at his hip.
When he saw Rachel, he straightened, and his eyes lit up. The ember of affection Rachel guarded so vigilantly within her heart blazed anew.
Gaius Valiant was the cutest of boys.
Resting her broom against the wall, Rachel broke away from the others, as they headed up the stairs, and ran through the crowd. She slid to a stop before Gaius.
He grinned down at her with a familiar big smile. “Hey, Rachel.”
“Mr. Valiant,” she murmured.
Then she paused, unexpectedly tongue-tied. She had so much she wanted to say, yet she did not know where to begin.
“Please. Call me Gaius.” He reached out and brushed his finger against her sore cheek.
Rachel’s breath caught. A tingle that had nothing to do with soreness spread through her.
“That ugly gash is gone.” His voice rose in surprise, sounding more British than usual. “Your cheek’s only a little red!”
Rachel gestured toward the flute-playing nurse by the door. “One of the visiting nurses played a proper healing song for me. Took care of my cuts and bruises, too. On my ear—from where the whip hit me; my back—from where I somersaulted across the gravel; and on my leg and shoulder—from where I smashed through the window. She also summoned all the shards of broken glass out of my clothing.”
“You had quite a day, didn’t you?” he drawled. “I hadn’t heard about the gravel.”
“A boy made my broom freeze in mid-air. I flew off.”
Gaius’s eyebrows leapt upward. “Wait! You fell off, and you managed a somersault before you hit the ground?”
A pleased little smile darted across Rachel’s lips. “And I paralyzed him on the way down. Thanks to our practice session.”
“You…” the older boy paused, his brow creased as he worked through what she had just said. “You mean, you paralyzed him while falling? And then you somersaulted?” He blinked. “That shows an amazing presence of mind!”
Gaius gazed at her, awed.
Rachel drank in his admiration like wine.
“I haven’t told anyone about you helping to save the dean, since you asked me not to.” Gaius said, his voice low. “Even though I am at least eighty-five percent sure that if I did tell, only good things would come from it. Are you sure you don’t want the world to know? You might get a commendation or something.”
Rachel envisioned the public scrutiny that would accompany the revelation that she had helped save the dean. It was bad enough that people knew she had saved her science tutor, Mr. Fisher. She hated being the center of the attention. It gave her a claustrophobic feeling, as if her surroundings were closing in on her.
“Please don’t tell anyone,” Rachel begged fervently. “Hopefully, no one other than you and I will ever know. Oh, and…” she glanced to the right and left and then leaned toward him, whispering intently, “remember the horrid Raven I told you about?”
“The one that is the omen of the doom of worlds, right?”
“Right. It was watching us while the dean fought the dragon.”
“It watched the fight?”
“No. It watched us. You and me.” A shiver ran along her spine.
“Oh.” He blinked. “That’s…rather disturbing.”
“I’m scared, Gaius.” She stepped closer to him and grabbed his shoulder, suddenly frightened. “My father told me to stay away from the Raven, but it’s watching me. It knows I can see it. What if it doesn’t like that? What if it…”
He moved toward her until they stood very close together, gazing at one another. He was short for his age, but to her, he seemed so tall and solid. He lay his hand on her arm.
“I’ll protect you,” Gaius promised gravely.
The fingers of fear clutching at her chest loosened a tiny bit.
She whispered, “Thank you.”
He squeezed her arm. Such happiness flowed through her that she forgot to breathe. She felt as if a bright star had left its place in heaven and come down to drive back the dark and cold. It reminded her of the previous night, when he had leaned in and kissed her. She wondered hopefully if he might kiss her again. But he merely took a step back, still smiling.
“How do I find you? I mean, should there be another emergency where I need protecting,” Rachel said as casually as she could manage. She feared she sounded a bit breathless. “Should we exchange schedules?”
“I had been wondering the same thing.” He pulled his schedule out of a pocket and showed it to her. Rachel glanced at it, memorizing it instantly. Reaching into her pocket, she handed him her schedule. She had glanced at it once. She did not need it anymore.
He had been thinking about finding her!
Inside, she was aglow.
She looked around at the growing crowd. “So. What are you all doing here?”
“They want to ask us some questions. I’m assuming they know the three of us weren’t working for Dr. Mordeau.” He gestured from himself to Locke and Von Dread. “I would hate to get expelled for having fought to save my fellow students.”
“They know you weren’t with the baddies. The princess shared her vision with them. She saw you all facing down Mordeau.” Rachel smirked. “The dean was properly impressed.”
She did not add that it was
Von Dread’s unyielding resolve that had so impressed Dean Moth. By that point in the princess’s vision, Gaius and William Locke had both been killed, something Rachel was extraordinarily glad had not come to pass.
She glanced surreptitiously at the Bavarian crown prince, as he brushed a speck off the sleeve of his black poplin robe. He glanced up at the same moment, and their eyes met. His gaze was cold and imperious, yet Rachel held it, undaunted. Adrenaline rushed through her, as if she were afraid. Only it did not feel like fear. It felt like…
Salome Iscariot sauntered between them, blocking Rachel’s view. The blonde glanced provocatively over her shoulder, fluttering her lashes at one of the proctors. Her white blouse had been tailored to show her curves to best advantage. Catching sight of Rachel, she winked and gave her a thumbs-up. Watching the other girl as she swayed away, Rachel recalled that Salome was probably the one who had told Valerie Hunt…
Rachel put her hands on her hips and cocked her head. As archly as was possible to girl-kind, she asked, “Gaius Valiant, did you tell people you were my boyfriend?”
Gaius took two quick steps backward. “No, I…No!”
“Someone spread that rumor.” She narrowed her eyes. “People have asked me about it.”
“It wasn’t me!”
“Are you certain?” she teased. “Rather cheeky of you to tell other people when you haven’t even asked me.”
He looked so cute when he was flustered. His cheeks were growing a bit red.
Then, he leaned toward her, his eyes bright. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”
Her heart leapt, expanding to fill her chest, the tower, the whole universe.
Then his exact wording filtered through her consciousness.
Oh, no, no, no.
This kind of question was a set up for humiliation. If she said “yes”, he could laugh and say, “Oh, how cute, the little girl likes me. She wants to be my girlfriend.” No Griffin girl worthy of the name would allow herself to be maneuvered into such a position. It would be undignified, worse than being caught with one’s pants down.
That had happened once to her brother Peter. Two years ago, when he was a sophomore, some stupid bully had used a cantrip to yank her brother’s pants down in public. Peter had been totally humiliated. It was the same beastly boy who blackened Peter’s eye by deliberately botching a spell in class. Rachel hated that boy. She surreptitiously glanced around at the snooty Drake students, wondering if any of them were her brother’s unknown rival.
Turning back to Gaius, Rachel narrowed her eyes until they were mere slits. “Are you asking if I desire to be your girlfriend? Or are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”
Gaius considered this, rocking back on his heels. His face betrayed an internal struggle.
“Do you want to be?” he blurted out finally. “I think I like the idea of having you as my girlfriend.”
Had he truly asked her?
Rachel’s jaw dropped. She gawked back at him, too flustered to speak. He leaned down, so that their heads were close together again, and peered at her.
“Yes? No?” Gaius asked. “Am I too old for you? Should I come back next year? The year after?”
Gaius was so cute. Talking with him made her feel so happy, so grown up.
What girl in her right mind would not want to be his girlfriend?
Yet was she ready for a boyfriend? True, her feelings for him were growing, but they were like a newly-sprouted seed. What if she agreed to date him and the pressures of daily life pulled up the seedlings of her affection before they had a chance to take root?
“I…um…it’s like…” She struggled to express what she felt. “Im-imagine m-my feelings for you are a spark I’m protecting from the wind and the elements.” Cupping her hands, as if holding something precious, she blew several short breaths into her palms. “Nurturing it and blowing on it, patiently waiting for it to grow into a proper fire.” She spread her fingers. “If I open my hands too quickly, it may go out.”
“What? Was that a yes or a no? I don’t understand. Oh, wait…” Gaius rubbed his temples, his voice suddenly unenthusiastic. “That was an analogy, wasn’t it?”
He did not understand.
She had felt certain that he must be experiencing something akin to the pure, almost sacred feeling inside of her. She had forgotten how practical and unpoetic boys were.
She felt suddenly lonely.
Other objections began to crowd her thoughts.
Gaius Valiant was three years older than she was. He was a Thaumaturge. He was a commoner—her family might not approve. He had not asked permission of her brother. She was very young. None of her sisters had dated at this age. Nor was she entirely sure he was the boy for her. After all, she had not even had a single conversation with John Darling, the boy she had crushed on for the last three years.
Oh, and then there were the things that an older boy would want from a girl—things Rachel knew she was not ready for.
“I’ve heard sixteen-year-olds…” Rachel struggled to gasp out such a mature and embarrassing word. Her face burned. If she had dunked it in a lake of lava, it could not have been hotter. “…that sixteen-year-olds snog.”
She gazed at him, waiting for him to reassure her, but Gaius just looked hugely amused.
“Yes.” He struggled not to laugh. “Sixteen-year-olds do sometimes snog.”
Rachel lowered her eyes, embarrassed. “I-I don’t believe I’m ready to have a boyfriend.”
Now it was Gaius whose face looked as if it had visited the lava baths.
“Right. Got it. See you later.”
Locke and Von Dread had moved across the foyer. Gaius stomped off after them, glowering. Rachel bit her lip and gazed down. She had not meant to upset him. Did this mean he would not want to talk to her any more? That would be terrible.
Sighing, she reluctantly set out after the others.
Part way up the staircase, she glanced back. Locke and Von Dread were deep in conversation. When Gaius trudged up to them, they paused and looked him over, inquiringly. Locke raised an eyebrow. Von Dread frowned and leaned toward Gaius, perhaps asking him what was the matter. Gaius shook his head and gave no answer. Crossing his arms, he stared across the foyer, glowering, his brow beetled and his face dark.
Rachel bit her lip.
Should she have said “yes”?
Chapter Five:
The Perfect Memory of Rachel Griffin
Reaching the top of the stairs, Rachel burst out into the belfry. Sigfried and the three Agents were gathered in front of the stone arch that contained the mirror with a golden hue. Lucky hunched beside his master. Siggy rested one hand on the dragon’s flame-red mane. The other was pressed against the thinking glass. Behind them, Agent Standish’s cheetah stalked straight-legged around the belfry, carefully sniffing the straw. The princess was there, too, but she stood with her back to the others. Her chin was raised, her expression prim.
Rachel tromped across the straw to join them. Stretching her hand over her head, she tried to jiggle one of the giant chimes, but she was not tall enough. Reaching the others, she examined the thinking glass. Only the golden edges still reflected the staircase and the lantern. The rest of it showed the dining room in Roanoke Hall—or rather a fuzzy dining room, where everything—chairs, tables, the ceiling, the fountain—was out of focus.
Rachel started in horror. Surely, this impressionistic collection of mess and murk could not be Sigfried’s memory. No one’s memory could be that bad.
But it was.
Rachel swallowed, feeling faintly dizzy.
Peering closer, she saw that not everything was blurry. The sandwiches, muffins, and yogurt on the table were clear, even larger than life. The cutlery was crisp, too, especially the sharp serrated edge of a steak knife. A gold coin lying next to the plate, probably a piece of Siggy’s hoard, looked so realistic that Rachel felt as if she could have reached in and touched it.
One other thing stood out vividly amid t
he fog of indistinct images. Faces were blurry, and clothing indistinct, but the curvy chests and rounded hips of the school girls appeared in all their voluptuous glory. The heat, which had departed when Rachel pulled her face from the lava lake of embarrassment, crept back into her cheeks. No wonder the princess had turned her back.
Did Valerie Hunt have such a womanly figure? Rachel had not noticed. Here, Miss Hunt looked as if creamy peaches had been tucked under her white blouse. Worse, the image rested upon this viewpoint for an uncomfortably long time. And Salome: true, Miss Iscariot went out of her way to draw attention to her charms—but her eye-catching curves appeared illuminated by their own spotlight. Beside her, Zoë leaned over to adjust her shoe. Her brightly-colored hair and her legs were indistinct, but her derriere was unmistakable, like a glorious moon.
Rachel raised her hand to block the image. She would have been mortified to be caught in such a position. An exposed rear end was a matter at which to poke fun.
Did boys truly ogle girls’ backsides?
Rachel peeked down at herself with some trepidation. She knew one day she would look like the other women in her family. She had never seen women as pretty as the Griffin Family women. Even Salome was not as voluptuous as Rachel’s sisters, much less her mother. Currently, however, Rachel looked like a child, straight and boyish.
If the images in the thinking glass reflected what the other girls at school looked like, why in the world did Gaius Valiant want to date her?
Gaius’s interest in her must be a trick. He must be up to something. The princess had warned her that Gaius was a wicked boy. Maybe it was true. He had given Rachel information to pass on to her father. Maybe he hoped that, if he won her trust, she would spill Wisecraft secrets.
A lot of good it would do him.
Her father told her nothing.
In the thinking glass, another figure burst onto the scene, a little dark-haired girl as pretty as a porcelain China doll. She was quick and vivacious, her almond-shaped eyes sparkling with laughter. Just seeing this pretty figure lifted Rachel’s spirits and made her want to laugh. This girl must be someone who mattered a great deal to Sigfried, because his memory of her was sharp and clear. Only Lucky and Siggy’s girlfriend, Valerie, appeared more vividly. Rachel wondered who it might be. Perhaps, their tiny classmate Magdalene Chase?
The Raven, The Elf, and Rachel (A Book of Unexpected Enlightenment 2) Page 4
