by W.J. May
Chapter 10
Magic Class
Rae walked into the grand room of the Oratory and felt like she’d stepped back in time. It appeared to still be in the sixteenth century.
The same black and white marble that appeared in every other building decorated the floor. Dark stained oak with hundreds of intricately, detailed carvings covered the walls. The grand room stood at least three stories high with long windows set near the pinnacle of the room. Rae wondered who set the windows so close to the ornately carved wooden ceiling almost five hundred years ago. They must’ve used one heck of a tall ladder.
Antique chairs were stacked along one wall, but there were no desks or tables. The room was as big as a football field.
Eyes wide, she ended up in the center of the room, doing a 360 degree turn to take in the entire view. She wondered if time did actually stand still inside this amazing place. It sure looks like it.
“We have class in here?” Rae whispered to Nicholas. The atmosphere felt too reverent to speak louder.
“Some classes are down the hall.” Nicholas gestured to the far side of the room. “It’s where the younger kids study skills until they turn fifteen. Then you graduate to here. I think Lanford’s office is somewhere down the hall, as well.”
“Where do seniors have class?”
“It’s switched. Seniors in the morning, then we have the place after lunch.” Rae had been too preoccupied to notice the other students coming in so it was a shock when she looked around and saw the room now filled with people.
Headmaster Lanford glided into the room, tapping his walking stick to get the students’ attention.
“All of you here are inked. Well, almost everyone.” Lanford nodded at Rae, but not in a discouraging way. “I’d like you to form groups of four and explain—”
He paused in his talking and glanced toward the back of the room. Rae turned to see Dean Carter come in and stand at the back of the room. He appeared ticked off, his arms crossed tight against his chest, and a scowl etched deep on his face.
“…Please introduce yourselves to each other.”
Rae blinked, trying to refocus on Lanford.
Nicholas motioned to the boy beside him. “Charlie just had his birthday this summer. Show us the new ink.”
Charlie walked over and rolled up his sleeve to show a tatù of a hand-drawn man.
“Cool tat.” Nicholas let out a low whistle. “What does it do?”
“It’s the Vitruvian Man. Let’s me heal quickly from, like, everything.”
“How?” Rae was curious. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the dean head over to Lanford.
“You know the Vitruvian man, right? Leonardo da Vinci drew him and used him to relate proportions of the body. The tatù shows I’m able keep all things proportioned.”
“Skip the da Vinci crap.” Nicholas let out a deep, hearty laugh. “Isn’t the Vit-man the same symbol for the medical profession?”
Charlie glared at Nicholas, then the corners by his eyes began to crinkle and he smiled. “Yeah, you’re right. Just thought the da Vinci shit sounded way better.” He slapped Nicholas on the back in a friendly gesture. “What about you?” He turned to Rae.
“Nothing…yet. I won’t be sixteen ‘til November.” Rae sighed, wishing her birthday had already passed.
“Students. Your attention, please.” Headmaster Lanford tapped his cane on the marble. “Dean Carter would like to have a few words.” He leaned back, as if sitting, but with nothing behind him, not a chair or stool.
“The annual interaction with the Roe Hampton students isn’t far off. I’d like to remind you all: there’s to be no tatù use during the evening. I expect you all to be on your best behavior.”
Rae could’ve sworn he was staring directly at the female students. She averted her gaze when his eyes rested on her.
Molly’s hand skyrocketed into the air, and she waved it furiously.
“Yes, Ms. Skye?” Lanford said.
“Will normal boys be coming as well? Maybe we could invite the students from Oxford.”
“No.” Carter spoke sharp and swift. “We’ve enough trouble with you lot.” He harrumphed and turned to leave.
Molly, sitting by Haley, whispered loudly. “It’s not fair. We should get a dance of our own then.”
Carter paused in his walk, pulled the end of his jacket down crisply and puffed out an exasperated breath. “Yes, let’s do that. Let’s spend thousands of pounds on a special evening just so the female students of Guilder can be happy. Let’s address the alumni board that two dances a year are not enough. Our female students need to have an evening every weekend so they can find a suitable spouse since they cannot do it on their own time.” He scanned the room, his gaze resting directly on Rae. “Heaven forbid we have a catastrophe of one of you falling for one of our Guilder boys.”
Every pair of eyes shot over to her. She didn’t know where to look or what to think. Part of her wanted to disappear and another part wanted to throttle the dean for singling her out. He had no right. She hadn’t asked the question. She hadn’t made her parents fall in love. She didn’t want more dances, or to cost the school tons of money. Feeling persecuted and madder than hell, she refused to drop her gaze and stared at each student until they glanced away.
“All right,” Lanford spoke. “Let’s get back to work, shall we?”
Dean Carter made his way to the door, but not before Rae saw the grin on his face.
What a chauvinist. He had purposely embarrassed the girls and got a kick out of it. Rae turned her shoulders, deliberately showing her back to the dean. She focused on Lanford, already missing part of what he’d said.
“…each ink is different, like a snowflake in a way.”
Rae watched Lanford as he spoke. She cocked her head to the side and tried to see what he sat on. “What’s your tatù?” she interrupted. “…sir.”
“Levitation.” He pushed up his sleeve to show his tatù. A man sitting in a yoga position, floating above the ground, rested neatly on his large forearm. He motioned for Rae to come forward.
She walked up to the front and stood to his right. Lanford stayed in his seated position, and raised both of his arms slowly.
“What the…?” She felt weightless and lightheaded. Looking down, her breath caught. She hung suspended in the air, her feet dangling three feet off the ground..
Lanford wiggled his index finger, bringing Rae up so her feet dangled slightly above his head.
It turned out to be the weirdest sensation, not so much feeling suspended, but more like gravity had left her body. Lanford floated her across the room. She was almost disappointed when the feeling of gravity returned as he set her back down gently. Like jumping on a trampoline for an hour and then trying to walk on the hard, flat ground.
“Next time, Ms. Kerrigan, please raise your hand to ask your question.” Lanford smiled and pointed to where Nicholas stood. “You can return to your spot.”
Not long after Rae jumped, surprised to hear the buzzer sound to signal the end of class. She reluctantly grabbed her bag and walked out into the rain.
What if she woke up on her birthday with no mark ink on her back? A claw of worry tightened her stomach as she realized that it might always remain blank. No one seemed to know what would happen. What if she really was just a normal, boring teen? She couldn’t go back to the way things had been before.
She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Her uncle must’ve felt awful when he learned her mother had been given the mark tatù instead of him. What gut-wrenching disappointment he must have felt. Wow, that must have really sucked, to be taken away from all his friends, from my dad, and to realize he wasn’t the special one. Rae pondered this new side of her uncle’s life story as she wandered along the sidewalk.
Using her bag as an umbrella, Rae slipped into the dining hall and grabbed a few buns off of a table. She stuffed them in her pockets, along with a few mini butters. The idea of just hanging out in her dorm r
oom doing homework until her meeting with Devon seemed like the perfect idea. With her pockets stuffed with snack supplies, she set off to do just that.
With her notebook and pen, Rae headed down to the library ten minutes before eight. She tried her uncle on the phone one more time. No answer. But Aunt Linda had called earlier and left a message with Molly, so Rae was no longer worried. She hadn’t been sure if Rae had been trying to get a hold of them. They had no machine and had been away and planned another short holiday for a few nights. Rae figured her aunt was enjoying some time with just the two of them. Her uncle probably said yes to the trips just so he wouldn’t have to talk to her. Coward. She shrugged off her disappointment with her Uncle and focused instead of the tutoring session to come.
Her heart skipped at the thought of seeing Devon. She tried telling herself it was because she wanted to learn more about her past, but knew that wasn’t the only reason.
Rae slipped into the library, picking a table toward the back. The last thing she needed was anyone, especially Haley, within hearing distance.
She sat down on the antique oak chair, rubbing her palms against the smooth top of the table. After a few minutes, she began tapping her pen against her binder. Eyes glued to the entrance of the library, her heart rate doubled when Devon walked through the oak doors.
He’d just showered. His dark hair still damp, and he’d changed into jeans and a white t-shirt. He moved with an easy confidence. She liked that. He raised a hand when he noticed her, arriving at the table in seconds, the speed of his gift carrying him. He moved so fast, his image had appeared blurry from the speed.
“Sorry I’m late.” He plopped down across from her. “The guys had a football rematch after tea and I lost track of time. Then I had to shower, ‘cause I stunk.” He grinned and wrinkled his nose.
Rae relaxed at his easy-going tone. “No prob.”
Leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table, Devon dropped his chin into his hands. “How’d your first day of classes go?”
The scent of Devon’s musky cologne wafted over her. Rae sat back to concentrate better, but the lure of his cologne tempted her to lean forward again and smell his delicious scent.
“Cl-classes were all right. Professor Stockheed seems… uh, interesting.” Rae inhaled a deep breath through her nose, trying to not appear obvious. If Devon said anything bad about the teacher, she’d tell him about the note.
“He’s fine. A bit strange, but he’s harmless. What’d you think of the Oratory?”
Nope. She wasn’t going to mention the note. She focused on his question. “When you walk in the place, I swear, time freezes.”
“Yeah, the Grand Room does seem to hold some special power or quality. Maybe that’s why they called it the Aura-tory.” Devon dropped back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head. He had long, muscular arms. The corners of his mouth twitched, his dimple winking at her.
“That’s a really bad joke.” Rae laughed despite herself.
“There are plenty more where that came from.” Devon stretched his legs out under the table. “Did you like Lanford’s class?”
“Definitely the most interesting.” She felt her cheeks burn. “He’s got an awesome tatù.”
“Oh no,” Devon laughed. “Who was it? Someone not paying attention or fooling around?”
Rae’s face got hotter and Devon’s laugh got louder.
“You?” He shook his head. “Last year, he lifted Riley up while he was mucking about. Dude didn’t catch on and tried to fight it. He looked like a cat thrashing about in the air. Legs and arms going everywhere as he tried to get his feet back on the ground. Took him a while to figure out Lanford held him there.”
“Mine wasn’t that bad. Thank goodness.” She smiled, relieved. “I love the Oratory.”
“Did you know the school dance next month is held there? It’s looks pretty surreal once decorated. You’d expect King Henry himself to show up.”
“Cool.” Rae didn’t know what else to say. She pictured them dancing together and then she thought about his girlfriend and wondered if Beth’d be there.
“How about we get started?” Devon reached for a pen. “Tell me what you want to know.”
“Me? Shouldn’t you have some lesson plan all mapped out?”
“Nope.” Devon laughed as he shook his head. “These sessions are to help you with any questions you’ve got.”
“Okayyy…” Rae drummed her fingernails against the oak desk, her eyes traveling along a grain in the desk’s wood. “All rightie, let’s start with something obvious. My parents. What do you know about their ink?”
“Skip the small talk and get right into the deep stuff, don’t you?” Devon began doodling on a sheet of paper inside her binder. He rested his chin in his free hand. “I don’t know a lot about your mom. Story is she fell in love with the wrong kinda guy.” He shrugged.
“Then tell me what you know about my father.”
Devon paused in his doodling and exhaled. “You say you don’t remember much about your dad. Maybe he acted different with your mom. To the rest of this secret society of tatùs, he chose the dark side of his ink. I don’t know the hows or whys.” Devon glanced at Rae, quickly dropping his gaze. “He’d be the poster child for the debate about kids growing up evil. Others joined him. This group of men let greed and power rule the choices they made in their lives, with no care or consideration for who got hurt.”
“People who aren’t inked live like that now. That’s no different than the norm of today’s society.” Her dad couldn’t have been that bad. After all, there were terrorists in other countries blowing people up just to say they did it.
“Yeah, but normal people don’t have powerful tatùs to work with. Your dad…he did some pretty bad shi—not so nice things to a lot of innocent people.” Devon paused, setting the pen down on the table. “There are still inked people who agree with what your father believed and are determined to continue with his plans…”
“I get what my dad was. I know there were times when my mother seemed terrified of him. As a kid, I thought it was normal. But my uncle… he never spoke the same way to my Aunt Linda or acted angry. And, it seems, he had good reason to be mad.” She chewed her lip. “You know, when my father was happy, he was good, but if he was mad or in a dark mood…” Rae shuddered and whispered, “Maybe that’s why I forget so much. Maybe I’ve blocked it out because it was so awful. What I do remember certainly isn’t all hearts and roses. I still have nightmares.”
Devon played with his pen cap, unable to look Rae directly in the eye. “Your father had big plans for himself and his little coven of followers. It got to the point where something catastrophic was going to happen. The Tatù Privy Council was terrified of what he planned to do, knowing they’d be unable to stop him. The fire at your house changed everything.” Sympathy filled his eyes. “Miraculously, you survived. Officials were unable to find the cause or source of the fire.”
“It’d be nice to see those reports. Maybe there’s something I’m forgetting.” Rae couldn’t remember anything more significant about that day than losing her mother.
“If you’d like, we can look up the newspaper articles on another night.”
Rae rubbed her temples. “I’d like to remember something no one else knows. Try and right the wrong he did.” She paused, unable to decide if she should voice the hope nagging inside. “Or maybe my dad really wasn’t that bad, and it’s all just a big misunderstanding. Maybe…” She knew how silly she sounded. It was childish, wishful thinking, wanting her dad to be a secret super hero instead of the villain of the story.
Devon took one of Rae’s hands in both of his. He held it for a moment before slowly releasing it. Rae could still feel the warmth from his touch. She stared down at her fingers.
“Deep down, I think I always knew my father couldn’t be a good person. I never knew details, but I always figured…” She blinked rapidly, trying to stop the burning in her eyes. Unable to talk, she h
alf whispered, “I’m terrified I’ll end up like him when I get my tatù. What if his ink changed him? It could happen to me, too.” No wonder the school wanted her here and why the other kids acted weird around her.
She glanced up at Devon, forcing a tiny half smile. A long, sad breath slipped out. “Would you mind if we maybe called it a night?” She didn’t think she could hold the flood works back much longer.
“Sure.” The pity in Devon’s eyes made Rae look away.
Devon’s chair scraped as he stood. “Go get some sleep and don’t worry. Tonight was just a lesson in history. It doesn’t mean anything, and it changes nothing of who you are.” He waited until Rae gathered her things. He didn’t push or question her request. Together, they walked down the center aisle of the library and went their separate ways in the foyer.
It means everything to me. How can Devon think it doesn’t change who I am? It’s like an ink stamp on my forehead. Like I’m already labeled by everyone here. Rae trudged up the stairs and into her dorm room, feeling relieved when she saw that Molly wasn’t already there, with her constant chatter and questions. She just wanted to crawl into bed, cry and disappear into the darkness.
