by Anita Oh
"Do you know Fatima?" I whispered to Nikolai.
He had said he couldn't reply, so it was probably a bit mean to ask him questions, but we were walking through the school grounds alone so there was nobody to see him muttering to himself.
"I doubt it," he said. "Why? Is that one of your commoner friends?"
"I think she's the one who did this to me."
"Point her out then, if you see her."
He didn't head toward the classrooms even though it was definitely class time. Instead he turned toward the dining hall. That was fine with me, it was French Toast day.
The normal dining hall was fancy enough, but the little balcony area where the Golden ate was something else. Everything seemed literally made of gold, and they had a whole special menu that wasn't available to the regular students. I didn't even know what some of the things on there meant.
"Where is she?" asked Sam, before Nikolai could sit down. He looked fine, maybe a bit tired. "Don't tell me you left her at the house on her own?"
"Of course I didn't," Nikolai said, pressing the button for coffee about fifty times in rapid succession.
"And even if he had, it's not as if I couldn't survive for a few hours alone in a sock drawer."
The three of them started, looking at Nikolai in shock.
"Ventriloquism?" Tennyson Wilde asked, furrowing his massive eyebrows and cocking his head to the side.
"You didn't tell them?" I asked Nikolai.
"I was hoping we could have some fun with it first," he said.
"She's in that ugly hat?" asked Althea. "Did you make that? Do you expect the rest of us to wear it, because you know how I feel about touching anything that's been in contact with your skin."
"I don't have any diseases, Althea," Nikolai said, sighing in relief when the coffee appeared. "I'm a werewolf."
"And yet you always make such dubious fashion choices," she said.
"Have you eaten?" Sam asked, staring at the flower on Nikolai's hat, where he obviously thought I was hiding. "You can come out, there's only us here."
Nikolai lowered the hat so that I could climb out onto the table and Sam sat a plate of French toast in front of me. It was like an actual mountain of French toast, the most luxurious French toast in the whole world. There have been many happy moments in my life, but never before had I experienced such a complete and pure feeling of joy as when I faced down that French toast mountain and vowed to make it my own.
At first, I was in such a French toast frenzy that the world around me faded into nothing, but as I began to fill up, bits of the conversation going on around me filtered in.
"Look at her eating that thing," Nikolai said. "Just like a tiny human-shaped rodent."
"The security people have been over everything again and still can't explain how the orb was taken," Tennyson Wilde said. "They are also at a loss to explain this spell."
"Well, you can't fire this lot," Althea said. "After last time, there won't be anyone left."
"They were supposed to be the best in the world," Tennyson said. "And they clearly were not. Why should I pay them for a service I'm clearly not receiving?"
"You sound like Mother," she said.
"Did you retrieve the book?" Tennyson said, ignoring Althea and turning his entire body toward Sam.
Sam glanced down at me with a guilty expression on his face. I waved a chunk of bacon at him to let him know I didn't care that he'd told the others. Things like that, you keep them a secret because they're confusing or worrisome or whatever, but that only leads to trouble in the end, and I was too small now to keep something that big inside. Better to let it out and have someone else deal with it. Any extra space I had needed to be filled up with French toast.
Sam pulled the book out of my backpack. Both the bag and book had seen better days. The book had gone all stiff and yellow from being soaked and then dried out. Tennyson picked it up, but the pages had dried together and it wouldn't open. Still, the names on the cover were there for anyone to see.
"I'll have our people look into it. I doubt it's a coincidence that her father is involved in all this."
I stopped eating and stared up at Tennyson Wilde.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"You know very well what I mean," he said.
"I want to hear you say it to my face." I brandished a piece of toast at him. "Go on, explain to me how you think my father was responsible for what happened to Sam. How you think everything that's happening now is some grand O'Connor family conspiracy. Tell me how you understand everything that's happened to my family over the past ten years so much better than I do."
I was all sticky with maple syrup, and a little bit nauseated from overeating and the conversation, but I was too angry to stay there with this jerk. I stormed off the plate and started walking away, but when I got to the edge of the table, I realized I had nowhere to go. I was totally helpless. It was so frustrating that I wanted to scream.
"It's okay, Lucy," Sam said, holding out his hand for me to climb onto. "Nobody thinks that."
Tennyson Wilde cleared his throat.
"But what if he's right," I said, as Sam held me up to his face. "My dad just vanished. He could be anywhere, doing anything." I looked away. I didn't want to say it, didn't even want to think it, but I needed to acknowledge the possibility. "He could be behind what happened to you."
Sam shook his head. "You know what I remember about your dad?" he asked softly. "That year when my little sister was an angel in the Christmas pageant and she was so excited, you remember? She loved having wings so much. But then our car wouldn't start on the way to the school and we were running late, and she was so upset thinking she'd miss it. And your dad told her not to cry, he had magic hands and he'd make everything okay, and popped the hood and got that old car going within minutes, remember?"
"Wait, that doesn't make sense," said Nikolai. "Why didn't he just call a driver?"
I rolled my eyes and Sam laughed.
"The point is," Sam went on, "that your father was a good man. He'd never hurt me or my family. Never. Wherever he is, whatever he's doing, you have to believe that it's for the best, that's he doing the right thing."
I wanted to believe that, I really did. But would a good man really walk out on his sick wife and four children, leaving them with nothing?
"Either way," I said. "It would be irresponsible not to investigate him. If he has any connection to what's happening now, we need to know about it. I don't think this is him though."
I explained to them about Fatima, how she'd been the ringleader in driving me into the bamboo forest. Fatima had more motive than anyone, I told them. As I was telling them, a few other things occurred to me too, like how whoever made the fake social media accounts had some pretty personal knowledge about me, and it wasn't as if I had a whole bunch of friends at Amaris to choose from.
"We'll have her looked at as well," said Tennyson Wilde.
The bell rang but nobody seemed in a hurry to move.
"The mages should have the analysis of the magical activity over the past day to us by tonight," Althea said, scrolling through her phone. "They don't sound hopeful though. They say if they found nothing last time, it's unlikely they will this time. But they think that based on how the spell was broken last time and any trace magic left this time, they might be able to extrapolate a counter-curse."
I had like a thousand questions about what she'd just said, but one was definitely the priority.
"They can biggen me?"
She shrugged. "Hopefully."
"The restoration of your size is hardly the priority here," said Tennyson Wilde. "We need to find whoever is behind this. You are either in league with them or they are targeting you specifically, and either way that makes you more useful in your current state."
I rolled my eyes. "I'm ignoring you and going back into the hat."
Chapter 9
At first it was kind of fun, going to class without anyone being able to see me, bein
g invisible. I could concentrate on the lessons and not worry about getting bullied. That only lasted so long, though.
"The air smells so much fresher in here without the stench of that commoner," said Charlotte Lu Pont on her way out of history class. "Did you see her Facebook from yesterday when we were teaching her a lesson? I'm taking a small vacation. I hope it's not too small!"
"I hope she never burdens us with her ugly face again," said Olivia.
"I hope she never burdens the world with her ugly existence."
The two of them burst into peals of laughter. I felt like being sick, but was a bit heartened when Nikolai stuck out his foot as Charlotte walked through the door of our English classroom and tripped her over.
After class, Nikolai met back up with Tennyson to hand over the hat.
"I'm not wearing that," Tennyson said.
"I made it with my own blood and sweat," Nikolai said, pouting.
"Then I am definitely not wearing it. Why would I want to wear a hat made from bodily fluids? She can sit in my pocket."
Nikolai shook his head. "Pockets are not safe."
"You know my feelings about headwear."
They stared at each other until Nikolai gave in and took off the hat for me to climb out.
"What are your feelings about headwear?" I asked Tennyson as he tucked me into his pocket.
"It is unnatural and an abomination. Now be quiet, you don't want the polo team to find you."
"Polo is unnatural and an abomination," I told him. "I will have no part in it."
He ignored me and kept walking. I poked my head out of his pocket to see where we were, but it was a part of the school grounds I wasn't familiar with. Because it was the sporty part. He obviously wasn't joking about the polo.
"Hey, Mr 'You can't ride a rat in life threatening circumstances because it's exploiting animals', are you seriously going to play polo? I am not comfortable with this at all. Are there going to be actual horses involved? Are there going to be boys' changing rooms involved? Because I know you've got no issues going into the ladies' but that doesn't mean I want to be surrounded by sweaty jock straps. How about you take me back to the house and I'll have a nap while you're off torturing ponies for funsies. I don't need a babysitter." And if I did need a babysitter, why not Sam? I was sure he wouldn't wolf out on me again and it would be nice to spend some time together.
I tried to kick Tennyson but the fabric of his coat was too thick for me to have any impact.
"Be quiet," he whispered. "We're almost there."
I huffed and settled down into the pocket. I didn't really know much about polo, but I'd seen how these people treated humans so I doubted they had much regard to the feelings of a horse. Plus, all the polo players I'd seen around school were the biggest jerks. This was not going to be a fun afternoon.
Tennyson Wilde stood by some bleachers waiting for all the players to gather. At the far side of the ground were the stables, but there were no horses around.
"Today, we're practicing technique," Tennyson Wilde said in a commanding tone, once everyone was gathered.
"Wait, you're the captain?" I couldn't believe it. Like, I could believe that he was the head of the jerk squad, that was easy to believe. I just hadn't taken him for a hypocrite.
"Our technique is fine," said Astor, I recognized his voice.
"Your game record says otherwise," Tennyson said.
"What do you even know?" Astor muttered.
Although I couldn't risk peeking out of the pocket to see what was going on, I felt a sudden shift in the air. A coldness.
"You will note," Tennyson said, "that I was asking neither for your permission nor your opinion. Today we are practicing technique. Go and prepare."
They all filed off into the locker rooms but Tennyson Wilde stayed behind. I wondered what he was doing but didn't care enough to ask. He took off his coat and folded it on the bottom row of the bleachers in a way that meant I could sit and peek out without it being obvious. It was pretty cold out of the pocket and I was glad I didn't have to run around on a field with a bunch of meaty guys waving their sticks at me.
Tennyson Wilde paced across the field, swinging his polo stick in his hand. It wasn't very interesting to watch him and I wished I had a book or something, but I doubted any books small enough for me to read even existed. Wow, this whole world really was made for able-bodied people. I'd come across it a bit before with my mother being sick, that type of prejudice that isn't overt but just subtly excludes you from things. Being around all these rich people when you were poor was a little like that as well.
After a moment, I saw someone approach Tennyson. I raised my eyebrows in surprise. Most people seemed too in awe of him to try to engage him in conversation. It was that guy, Llewellyn, from my history class.
"E-e-excuse me," I heard him say. Poor guy had turned bright red and looked like he was about to pop a vein, but he seemed determined to get out whatever he had to say. "Have you seen my dog? She's a beagle. Tricolor beagle. Bonkers. That's her name. She was playing with her ball but then she just ran off and I can't find her."
To my surprise, Tennyson Wilde's face softened. He placed his hand on Llewellyn's shoulder. "She probably just caught a scent," he said, almost kindly. "I bet she has quite the nose on her?"
Llewellyn nodded.
"I'm sure she'll come home when she gets hungry, but I can put a message on my blog about her, if you like. Do you have a picture you can send me?"
Llewellyn seemed reassured as he wandered off, tapping on his phone. I stared at Tennyson Wilde in shock, but already the image of him as a kind, caring guy was fading and he looked harsh again.
The rest of the team came out, in their fancy polo uniforms. They were all grumbling as they walked past me toward where Tennyson stood in the middle of the field.
As they filed past, one of them knocked Tennyson's coat and it fell to the ground. I landed softly, but the rest of the coat fell on top of me and it was heavy and suffocating, so I struggled my way out of the thick fabric and up to the fresh air. The snow had only fallen lightly on this part of the grounds and had already begun to melt. Only a few clumps here and there remained and luckily I hadn't fallen into one. Still, the ground was frozen solid, hard and cold, and I climbed back into the warm sanctuary of the coat. I'd just gotten comfortable when I felt a shadow fall over me.
"Such a nice coat…" the person muttered. "Shame to get it all mucky."
They picked up the coat and brushed it off, flinging me off under the bleachers.
I landed hard, putting my arms out to break my fall as I went skidding along. Through the gaps in the bleachers I could see the person fold up the coat and sit it neatly back on the seat, well out of my reach. I was stuck there, on the freezing cold ground, until polo practice was over. How long did it go for, I wondered. From the way that Tennyson Wilde was yelling at people, it seemed like it would probably be a long time. I shivered and rubbed my arms. Why couldn't I have been shrunk in the summer, when it was warm? Though, I guess that would've been worse, with all sorts of weird bugs and snakes and who knows what else out and about. Probably, no time was a good time to be shrunken out in the wild.
I'd been so cozy inside Nikolai's ugly hat, and not expecting to be dropped on the ground that I wasn't even wearing warm clothes. The grass was wet from the melting snow and there was nowhere for me to go to get out of it. I walked to the edge of the bleachers and looked up, hoping I'd spot some easy way to get back up to the coat. Maybe like a tiny person ladder or something. I was plum out of luck, there was no way I was getting up there without being a whole lot taller.
So, I either had to stay there and freeze, or get some help. Well, there was a third option, go and hide out in the boys' locker room, but if Tennyson Wilde hadn't realized I'd fallen out of his coat, I might end up stranded in there, and that was clearly a level of hell that I didn't want to plummet to.
I took a deep breath and rolled my shoulders. Tennyson Wilde wasn't so mu
ch as participating in the training as yelling from the sidelines, so if I stayed off the field, it should be safe enough. I'd go find him and he'd put me in his pocket and I'd be warm again. Man, I could so not wait until it was Althea's turn to look after me.
It was a long walk, but I could do it. The grass was neatly trimmed, even more so than the rest of the school grounds, and only came up to just past my waist, so I could clearly see where I was headed. As if I could miss it, all those big clodhoppers stomping around, with the biggest clodhopper of all barking orders at them. Whoever let him have a whistle was surely from the devil. I kept on the outside of the line around the ground and headed for Tennyson Wilde.
I couldn't tell what they were doing. What sort of technique did you even need for polo, didn't the horses do all the work? I guess they had to grip their sticks properly and all that but I didn't see why that would be so hard for them. I seemed to walk forever and ever without getting anywhere. What if practice finished and they all came stomping over the top of me. The ground was so hard, I'd be squished like a bug. I picked up my pace and eventually put a fair distance between myself and the bleachers.
Then a whistle sounded. The whole lot of them, the entire polo team, came thundering toward me. I stood, stunned, watching them. There was nowhere for me to run, nowhere to hide. I couldn't escape my fate of being trampled to death by a herd of wild polo players.
Panic gripped me and I began to run. I didn't know where, which direction, anything, just that I had to get away from them. They got closer and closer, so quickly it was unimaginable. I couldn't outrun them. I looked over my shoulder and they were right there, almost upon me. I was so busy watching them, waiting for a giant foot to finally come down on my head, that I didn't look where I was going. The whistle sounded again and the polo players stopped running for me and changed direction. I turned around and noticed a mountain right in front of me, but I'd got up too much momentum and didn't have time to stop. I ran splat, right into that mountain and fell backward onto my butt.
