“Oh my! I am so sorry!” cried Cydney, whose bat familiar hung upside down from her shoulder bag. If Rachel recalled correctly, a bat familiar granted echolocation. She wondered how useful that was. “We were just practicing dueling. I am such a horrible shot. I completely missed Lola and hit you.” The girls behind her snickered. “I will run and get Nurse Moth right away.”
Lola, the toad girl, wore a shiny green scarf around her neck. “No need. I know the counter spell.” She raised her hands, forming cantrip gestures. “Gos-el lu siathe.”
Rachel both felt and saw her nose swell, a frightening and unpleasant sensation. It more than doubled in size,. The obstruction in her line of vision disconcerted her. She felt ill. The girls snickered more loudly.
Lola stroked her shiny green scarf, which Rachel realized belatedly was not a scarf at all but a snake. Serpents were a popular familiar for thaumaturges. “Oh, I must have gotten the hand motion wrong. Let me try again.”
Lola repeated the gesture and the words. This time, Rachel’s chest suddenly felt unbalanced.
The girls laughed cruelly. Cydney stepped close to Rachel, leaning toward her in mock dismay. “Oh, I’m ever so sorry. We’ll get Nurse Moth.”
They ran up the stairs. Rachel could hear them giggling well into the distance. A strange calm settled over her, as if there was no purpose to becoming upset when she was incapable of acting. However, she did think, Hasn’t Siggy been waiting for someone to call on him to revenge them? She imagined Cydney and her friends with their hair on fire, screaming.
These girls would rue the day they attacked her!
Rue the day!
Time went by. A lock of hair fell across her face. It tickled, but she could not scratch. She wondered morosely if motion, when it returned, would be accompanied by painful, body-wide pins-and-needles.
A little dark-haired head poked around the top of the staircase. It was Magdalene Chase. She no longer had a black eye—but she had a fresh red handprint on one cheek. She peered around and then scuttled closer to Rachel.
Magdalene whispered, “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you with them. I…just couldn’t. But I can help you now, if you promise not to tell them who released you. Promise?” She waited a moment. “I will take your silence as a yes.”
Stepping back, she raised her right hand in a fist with only her index finger sticking up and moved it before her in a straight horizontal line. “Obé.”
The muscles in Rachel’s jaw and arms and legs relaxed. There were no pins and needles, but she felt sore all over, as if she had been running for an hour straight. She realized that it had been her own muscles holding her in place
Magdalene looked at Rachel’s nose and chest. Her cheeks grew redder. “Um, I don’t know how to fix that.”
Rachel looked down. Her right breast and shoulder were enormously swollen. The sight terrified her. Her stomach twisted. She felt nauseous.
“Thank you so much! You have my undying gratitude.” Rachel managed to give Magdalene a sincere smile. “Of course, I’ll never tell anyone. But I owe you. So just ask if you need something, any time…especially from Siggy, the boy with the dragon? He’s dying to avenge someone. He’ll kick the bum of anyone whose bum you want kicked—you just let him know.”
Magdalene’s eyes lit up at the mention of Sigfried. Rachel made a note of this. She tried to be aware of the least hint of who liked whom. Her father used to tease her that she sensed these matters with her “mystic girl powers.”
Rachel looked at herself again and shuddered. “Do you know if they really went to get the nurse? If so, I can hide in a corner and wait. I wonder if there’s a tarp or a blanket in the cellar somewhere.”
“I was following them, but I stopped to help you. I don’t know if they went or not. I…wouldn’t bet on it. Maybe if you just cross your arms?” Magdalene patted Rachel’s good shoulder sadly, adding, “It’s pretty late. I doubt you’d run into anyone on the way there. Or, at least, only a few people…”
Rachel slipped her arms under her robe and crossed them in front of her, thus hiding the distortion to her chest; however, her enormous shoulder still protruded upward in an obvious fashion. Quietly vowing to herself that she would find a way to protect Magdalene from whomever was abusing her, she ran for the infirmary.
Chapter Twelve:
Secrets in the Hallway
Rachel ran out of Roanoke Hall, over the bridge that spanned the reflecting lake, and eastward toward the forest. Once among the trees that surrounded Drake, Raleigh, and Dee Halls, she darted south toward the infirmary, which was just north of the gymnasium. In the dark, she had trouble seeing the path. She nearly lost her balance, lurching dangerously due to her lopsidedness.
It was hard to see because her hair kept blowing in her eyes. She could not brush it aside, because her arms were under her robe. She paused to get her bearings. Above her, she heard a soft an ominous sound, like the beating of the wings of death. An eerie shiver ran down her spine, as if the feathers of those wings had brushed her.
She turned and looked, but there was nothing there.
Rachel stood still and thought back. In her mind’s eye, the great Raven with its scarlet eyes flew through the night sky toward Roanoke Hall. She gasped. The Raven turned its head and looked at her. The obscuration hiding it broke, and Rachel found herself eye to eye with the real Raven. She met its gaze. A horripilation of dread passed across her entire body. She tried to swallow but could not. Then the Raven was gone.
But it had seen her.
It had seen her watching it.
Ahead, she heard cruel girlish laughter. Cydney Graves and her friends stood in front of the infirmary. Rachel froze. The idea of walking out in front of them, deliberately exposing herself to mockery, was too horrible.
She hesitated.
Hiding in the shadows, she plotted the doom of those who had humiliated her. Vivid pictures of Siggy’s delight as Lucky breathed on the three girls, and they erupted into geysers of flame played through her imagination. She smiled with spiteful glee.
Two of them moved in her direction. Rachel bolted. She ran the other way, smack into someone coming down the path. Looking up, she found herself staring into the cheerful face of a tall young man of Spanish descent. He looked to be in his early twenties. He was dressed in a black turtleneck and trousers. A black and white magpie sat on his shoulder. It was the proctor, Mr. Fuentes.
“Whoa! Whoa! Careful, Miss. Oh, my! What happened to you?” Fuentes squinted at her in the dark. He made a gesture and said a word. The air lit up around them, glowing softly. Rachel still had her arms crossed in front of her, so he could not see the travesty that was her right breast. Her enormous shoulder and nose were obvious to the eye.
The words burst from Rachel’s lips. “Girls. Over there. Cast a spell on me. I want to go to the infirmary, but they are in the way.”
Fuentes gazed at the other young women, his eyes narrowing.
“Is that so?” He patted her good shoulder. “Wait here.”
Rachel grabbed his arm. “Please…don’t make it worse for me.”
“No problem.” He gave her a big grin and a thumbs-up.
He strode to where the girls waited, laughing, and stood with his hands on his hips. Despite being generally good-natured, he looked rather formidable when he frowned. “Do you girls know the penalty for using magic on your fellow students outside of approved dueling situations? You can get expelled. You should be ashamed of yourselves.”
The girls’ smirks disappeared. They looked embarrassed and frightened. Fuentes made a “go away” gesture. They quickly departed. Grinning, Fuentes gestured to Rachel. She came timidly forward until she stood in front of him, her head down. He put his arm around her shoulders. His body blocking her deformities, he led her to the infirmary.
“A patient for you, Nurse Moth!” he called good-naturedly.
The nurse arrived and bustled Rachel into a bed. The flame-colored curtains were only half closed. Rachel
glimpsed another girl, a pale redhead with braided pigtails, on the first cot. An otter curled around her sleeping body.
“Again, you!” The nurse threw up her hands. “Between you and your two friends, you have been here more than not. And school has only just begun! For you, though, I have the good news. Your friend, the Princess of the Magical Australia, has awakened. She appears to be fine. They keep her in New York for the night, for observation. Tomorrow, she return for the classes.”
Relief coursed through Rachel, leaving her giddy. As if someone had removed a sodden wool blanket from her shoulders, guilt and fear lifted. In addition to her happiness on her friend’s behalf, Rachel was pleased for the other students. Even in the short time they had been together, others were already looking to the princess for leadership. They seemed lost and disconsolate without her.
The nurse bustled off to get her flute, setting chimes jangling. Overhead, the orrery clicked as its planets rotated. Fuentes sat down on a chair beside Rachel’s bed. “You’re the littlest Griffin girl, aren’t you? Ambrose’s daughter?”
Rachel nodded. “I am Rachel.”
“Welcome to Roanoke,” he grinned.
The door opened, and another man came into the infirmary. He was older, short with broad shoulders and steely gray hair. He came over to where Rachel lay and looked her over.
Fuentes saluted him. “Boss, this is Rachel Griffin. She was…disaccommodated by some fellow freshmen. Rachel, this is the head of security here at Roanoke: Maverick Badger.”
Rachel gaped up at him. She had heard tales of Maverick Badger. When the Terrible Five took over Roanoke twenty five years ago, only Mr. Badger and an Art tutor named Miss Jacinda Moth had stood their ground to protect the students.
Nowadays, Miss Jacinda was known as Dean Moth.
“Did you really capture the Heer of Dunderberg after Simon Magus released him from his prison in Stony Tor?” she asked, wide-eyed.
He chuckled and gave her a grim smile. “Sure did. And I have the burn marks to prove it. So, you are Sandra Griffin’s little sister, are you? We miss Sandra around here. She’s an excellent sorceress and, on top of that, one classy lady. What’s she up to now?”
“She’s working for the Wisecraft at their Scotland Yard location…doing paperwork.” Rachel grinned. “She says it is very boring. I think she’s in the accounting department.”
“Doubt she’ll stay there long,” Badger replied gruffly. “She’s meant for better things. So…what happened to you?” He glanced at Fuentes, as if expecting him to explain.
“A little run in with some expanding cantrips,” he said mildly, gesturing at Rachel’s nose. The rest of her was covered by a blanket.
“Humph. Well, if it keeps up, let me know. I love crushing the spirit of unruly students.” He slammed his fist into his palm with a satisfying whack.
Rachel giggled. Then she leaned forward, which was much harder than usual as she listed heavily to one side. “Mr. Badger, you’ve been at Roanoke a long time…have you ever seen a raven. A very big raven?”
Fuentes shook his head, but Mr. Badger ran his hand across his stubbly cheek.
“You mean a raven with blood red eyes?” he asked gruffly.
“Yes!”
“Did someone you know see this raven?” he asked carefully.
“Um…someone did. Y-yes.” Rachel leaned back against the pillows the nurse had propped behind her and pulled her legs against her chest. “W-what is it?”
“Don’t know.” Mr. Badger shook his head, scowling. “But it’s never a good sign, that raven. Ill omen. Something bad’s sure to follow.”
“Oh,” Rachel whispered softly, shivering.
Glancing over, he saw the nurse was returning with her flute and rolled his shoulders. “Must keep going. Got rounds to do. Hope you’re back on your feet soon, Miss Griffin.”
“Thank you, sir.” Rachel shivered as she watched him go.
• • •
The nurse’s enchanted healing music restored Rachel to her proper shape. The process was not painful, but the twinkling green sparkles tickled and stung. Exhausted, she fell into a dreamless sleep. She spent the night in the infirmary.
Early the next morning, Peter and Laurel came by to check on her. Peter was quite disturbed. He kept asking her who had attacked her, whether it was an older boy, perhaps one in his grade, and urging her not to walk around alone at night. Laurel, on the other hand, seemed quite amused. She regaled Rachel with tales of similar fates that had befallen other students, including one about a Junior at the upper school who had been turned into a fish. When her siblings finally departed, Rachel ran back to her room, changed, and headed to breakfast.
She arrived to find Siggy tossing pieces of blueberry muffins into the air for Lucky to burn, to the delight of an entranced audience. Each time he threw, Siggy shouted, “Pull!”
Rachel got her food and waited patiently for a chance to speak to her friend. When the crowd dispersed, she let those around her, including Valerie and Joy O’Keefe, know that Nastasia was on the mend. Then, she scooted her chair beside Sigfried’s and spoke to him privately. “So, you know how you wanted to be a knight and avenge wrongs done to us?”
“Yes! Do you have an enemy? Point me at them! Lucky and I will reduce them to ash…or burn their breakfast, whichever you prefer.”
“Last night, some other students cast a spell on me, made me…” she could feel her cheeks getting hot. “They paralyzed me and did some other mean stuff.”
“Just point them out!” he cried. Then he leaned toward her conspiratorially. “Or better yet, point with your elbow, that way they won’t see and won’t notice us coming.”
“Those girls there, at that blue table.”
Siggy’s face froze. His normally mobile expression remained still for so long that Rachel began to fear someone had paralyzed him. Then, he drooped, as if his entire spirit were crushed. “I…can’t attack girls!”
“Oh…W-what do I do?”
“I-I don’t know!” He scowled. “It’s not fair!”
“I can help.” Zoë Forrest put her tray down next to Rachel. Her hair was a bright lilac color today. Her lipstick matched. She flipped the chair around and straddled it backwards. Her quoll peered at Rachel curiously from her shoulder, its black eyes bright.
“How?” Rachel eyed her warily.
Zoë gave her a lackadaisical smile. “Can’t tell. But I can humiliate them. Won’t hurt them. Won’t get anyone expelled, but…‘humiliation galore.’” She spoke the last phrase as if it were a quote, but Rachel did not recognize the reference. “What say you?”
“Um…” Rachel said hesitantly. She glanced at Sigfried, but he was too busy struggling with the conundrum of how to avenge her without attacking a girl. “Okay.”
“Sweet as!” Zoë dug into her French toast. “You’ll see my handiwork tomorrow morning.”
• • •
A trip to the mailroom found two letters in her mailbox. The first was a short chatty letter from her mother asking about school and giving her the latest news from the estate. That made Rachel smile. The second was from her father. She opened it eagerly.
Her father’s letter read:
Dear Rachel,
If you encounter anyone using the new geas, report it immediately to Ivan Romanov, Yolanda Debussy, Agravaine Stormhenge, Marta Fisher, or John Darling. Hope school is going well.
Love,
Father
Rachel frowned, slightly disappointed. She had expected some mention of how clever she had been to discover this information, of how thorough her reports were, or of what a good team they made. Even better, she had hoped that his letter might contain clues—reports on strange happenings, news about the new magic, information about the scarab or Nastasia’s visions or the Raven. But of course, she had only written her letter the night before, so he must have had only seconds, after it came through the post glass, to jot off an answer and post it back to her. And she did appreciate the po
ssible opportunity to speak to dreamy John Darling—though after the incident in the kitchens, she was not as eager to do so as she had once been.
Still, she wished her father had let her know that he appreciated her effort. She wanted so much to be of use to him.
• • •
Wednesday had two free study periods. One between Language and Math and another in the afternoon between Music and True History. Rachel had already read all her assignments for the first week, but she did not mind reading ahead. She loved learning about the history of early sorcery and the discovery of the Original Language.
She tried to study in her dorm room, but next door Wendy was playing the trombone and a few floors down Oonagh was booming away on her tuba. Rachel retreated to Roanoke Hall and headed upstairs to the abandoned hallway to practice.
She was quite surprised, and yet somehow not surprised at all, when she looked up from wafting the large tome back to the table and found Gaius Valiant leaning casually against the wall. What was he doing here again, hanging out in the hallway with a thirteen-year-old girl?
Didn’t this boy ever go to class?
“Here again, eh?” He gave her a big grin.
“It’s as good a place as any.” She flashed him a wry smile.
“I suppose.” He glanced at the dusty hallway. “Most people practice in their dorms or in the gym.”
“My dorm is a very crowded place.” She sighed. “People play instruments very loudly. It’s hard to hear oneself think, much less read.”
He thought about this and then nodded slowly. “I can picture that.”
“Where are you from?” she asked, suddenly curious about him.
“Cornwall. My father owns…” he hesitated briefly, “…a farm there.”
“Really?” she asked with great interest. There were several tenant farmers on the Gryphon Park estate grounds. Rachel had visited them often during the last several years, and she had read a great deal on farming in her grandfather’s library. A good duke made a point of knowing all about how to manage his estate. “A magical farm or a mundane one?”
The Unexpected Enlightenment of Rachel Griffin (Books of Unexpected Enlightenment Book 1) Page 13
