“Never mind that,” Tria snapped. “Tell me what you mean about their ‘joining forces’ against me. What are they planning?”
“I only know what I told you. Oh, and they’re plotting against Lina, too, but of course she deserves it. Taner doesn’t know any more. She said to warn you to be careful.”
Tria slammed her textbook shut. “I’m sick of this nonsense! I thought it was over. Is it going to start again?” She stood, letting her notebook and pencil fall to the floor.
On a sudden impulse, she walked to Irel’s desk. “Tell me, Irel, am I really in danger?”
The girl hung her head and clutched the edges of her book as though it were a life preserver.
“Come on, Irel. Say yes or no. You can do that.”
“Yes,” Irel whispered.
“Yes? I’m in danger?”
The girl nodded. Her hands shook.
“What can I do?” Tria’s anguished cry escaped of its own volition. She did not expect an answer.
But Irel, gazing straight in front of her, said clearly, “Talk to Veronica.”
The next day she and Lina were scrubbing the stairs under Veronica’s tutelage. Tria had watched for a chance to speak to the maid where Lina could not hear, but their duty time was near its end before the chance came. Veronica sent Lina to empty and rinse the scrub bucket while Tria gave a finishing polish to the waxed banister.
When Lina was out of earshot, Tria spoke quickly. “Veronica, I’ve learned that I have enemies who intend to turn their power against me, and I was told to ask you for advice on how to stop them.”
Veronica nodded as though accustomed to such questions. “And is the threat to you alone, or is it also to Lina?”
So it had done no good to avoid naming the plotters. Veronica’s question indicated that she knew exactly what Tria had been referring to.
Tria confessed that the threat included Lina and that she had not talked to Lina about it.
“Do so,” Veronica said in a tone that made the brief counsel sound more like an order. “Lina will not be easy to work with, but if you can persuade her to cooperate, you will gain a powerful ally, and you may curb her lawlessness.”
Absently Tria polished the rounded end of the banister at the top of the third-floor stairs. Frowning, she said slowly, “But suppose she won’t cooperate. Or that she insists on using methods I can’t accept? What then?”
“In that case, I recommend that you seek both safety and wisdom by ascending the stairs to the next level.”
Tria stopped polishing and looked at Veronica. Was she joking? Her expression was serious.
“I don’t understand. This is the last stairway, isn’t it? This is the top floor. Or is there an attic?”
“Tch, tch,” Veronica clucked. “Have you been sleeping through your Metaphysical Theory class?”
Tria felt herself blush. “I remember Old Tum—I mean, Master Tumberlis saying that our minds can encompass seven levels, though most people discover only two or three.” She recalled something else. “He also said that the dimensions of existence are infinite. But that can’t have anything to do with what you are trying to tell me.”
Veronica looked amused. “Did he not also say that Simonton School is a microcosm of the multidimensional universe?”
Tria frowned, wondering how Veronica knew all this. “Yes,” she said, “but I didn’t understand. What does it mean?”
For answer, Veronica waved her hand at the familiar hall. Tria saw Lina passing Nubba’s room as she came toward them. Veronica must merely be signaling the end of the conversation. “Look harder,” Veronica whispered.
Tria peered down the corridor. For a mere second she thought she glimpsed a long, curving stairway rising upward into darkness. She blinked and the vision vanished. Had she really seen it?
Lina reached them and handed Veronica the clean bucket.
As Veronica accepted it, she said, “You have completed your assigned duty with me. As of tomorrow you will return to the regular work detail.”
Tria could not suppress a cry of dismay, but Lina tossed her head. “About time,” she said.
“And you will fulfill those duties this time, Miss Mueller.”
“I suppose so,” Lina said unconcernedly. She turned and ambled toward her room.
“No, she will not be easy to work with,” Veronica said softly to Tria. “But you must make the attempt.”
Swinging the bucket, she headed downstairs, leaving Tria with a hundred unanswered questions and a large mixture of doubt and dread.
CHAPTER NINE
INVITATION
Tria stood by the courtyard fountain, which had been shut off and drained for the winter. Wilce had stopped her on her way to her first class and asked her to meet him at the fountain at break. They’d be able to talk privately; few students spent their break time in the courtyard since the weather had turned cold and blustery. Most stayed inside in a heated classroom and studied for the end-of-term exams they faced within the week.
Tria should be studying, too. She wasn’t worried about either Mistress Dova’s class or Master San Marté’s. Her grades in Ethics and in Arcane Rituals were excellent. But her two classes with Old Tumbles were another matter. She’d have to cram to pass the Logic final, and Metaphysical Theory required the memorization of page after page of notes.
She pushed study and exams from her thoughts as Wilce strode toward her, hands in the pockets of his plaid wool jacket, a big grin on his handsome face.
“Hi, Tria. Thanks for coming.”
“Glad to, Wilce. What’s up?”
“Not much.” He unpocketed a hand and ran his fingers through his thick blond hair. “I, uh, wanted to ask you if you’d go to the Midwinter Ball with me.”
Suddenly weak-kneed, Tria sat on the fountain’s rim. Wilce sat beside her, a worried look in his brown eyes. He thinks I’m going to turn him down. I’ve got to say something.
But words would not come. She wanted to blurt out an eager acceptance, and instead she sat tongue-tied.
He placed his hand on hers, his touch warm, reassuring. “I understand if you’ve already made other plans,” he said. “I should have asked you weeks ago. I’ve always been a procrastinator. I kept thinking we’d draw the same duty detail again and I could talk to you then, but it didn’t happen.”
She took a deep breath, smiled at him, and finally managed to speak. “I haven’t made other plans. I’d love to go with you.”
He beamed, and his fingers closed around hers. “That’s wonderful! So we have a date.”
A date! With Wilce! Tria could hardly believe it. When break was over, she floated to Ethics class and heard not a word of the lecture but sat enclosed in a warm glow, thinking of Wilce and the dance and how happy she was and how well things were going for her and how wrong she’d been about Simonton School.
She’d had no more disagreeable encounters with Headmistress since the night of her battle with Oryon. Headmistress nodded pleasantly when they met and on rare occasions even smiled at her. To her amazement, Lina had agreed to cooperate in a joint defense against Oryon and Kress. But the prophesied attack had never come about. The boys were cool toward them, but gave no evidence of mounting a sinister plot against them.
Tria purposely avoided the girls who had drawn her into the battle. She had classes with Nubba and Coral, so she saw and spoke to them but did not invite their confidences. She rarely saw Kathyn, Taner, and Verin unless she happened to share a work detail with one of them, and that had not happened for several weeks.
Tria spent her time with friends who focused on classes and friendships rather than on conspiracies and battles. Rehanne Zalos had become the closest of these new friends.
When class finally ended, she rushed to find Rehanne, stopped her on her way to the dining hall, drew her aside into the parlor, and clutched her hands.
“Wilce asked to take me to the ball!” The news burst from her, refusing to wait and be imparted in a dignified manner. Sh
e bounced up and down, her joy demanding motion, demanding to be shared.
Rehanne’s wide smile answered hers. Her friend gave her a big hug. “That’s wonderful, Tria! More wonderful than I think you realize.”
Tria pulled free of Rehanne’s embrace and regarded her friend. “What do you mean?”
Rehanne shrugged. “This year not many are going as couples. Most of us are just—going. Last year most of the fellows invited girls. But not this year.
“Oh, the third-year students are going as couples,” she went on in a rapid speech that too clearly hid some hurt. “Evyar and Adeen intend to get married after graduation, and Helena and Cleance are always together. Everyone expects them to be named King and Queen of Winter. But the first- and second-year fellows are holding back. Taner is furious because Oryon hasn’t mentioned the dance to her. She’s too proud to ask him. Elspeth did ask Palmer, and he said that of course he’d dance with her, but ‘the men have decided to go as a group this year.’ Men! Isn’t that ridiculous?” Her smile changed to a frown, and Tria heard the hurt in her voice as she added, “I keep hoping Gray will ask me, but he hasn’t, so I guess I’ll tag along with the other girls.”
“You could always use your gift of coercion to give him a little mental nudge,” Tria said, teasing.
“You know I’d never do that.” Rehanne sighed. “But don’t think I haven’t been tempted. It would be so easy—but it would be wrong, and if he ever found out or even guessed, he’d be through with me forever.”
“Oh, I doubt that. But he’ll ask you. It’s not too late. Wilce said he’d meant to ask me earlier and hadn’t got up the nerve. That’s probably all it is with Gray and the others. You wait. They’ll be falling all over themselves to invite dates, now that Wilce has broken the ice.” She hugged Rehanne again, wanting to erase her doubt, wanting her friend to share her joy.
But Tria could see the uncertainty behind Rehanne’s smile, and her friend only said, “Come on, we’ll be late for lunch.”
As they hurried toward the dining hall, Tria resolved to see Wilce and ask him to speak to Gray. Probably a word from Wilce would be all the prodding Gray needed, and Rehanne need never know.
Her happiness restored by that resolve, Tria scarcely noticed that the only table with two empty places was the one at which Lina sat, along with Petra. She and Rehanne greeted them and sat down, only to have to stand again for the noon blessing, led today by Master Hawke.
Tria echoed the words of thanksgiving in her heart, scarcely beginning to express her gratitude when Master Hawke concluded the prayer.
Veronica served the food, and Tria was astounded to see a platter of roast pork set before her, the succulent meat swimming in rich gravy. The cooks must be celebrating her good fortune. She stared at the heaping dishes of vegetables served with the roast. For once, the harvest from the student-tended garden graced the student tables.
“Is this a holiday or something?” Tria asked, piling her plate high with the delicious fare. Her question was answered by puzzled negatives and blank looks. “The food, I mean. It’s so different today.”
Petra peered at Tria’s plate. “Different? How? It’s the same slop they always serve.”
Rehanne shrugged. “They’re being generous with the fresh vegetables while they last, I suppose. We’ll have preserved and canned food all through the winter.”
Lina said, “The food has not changed. Only your perception of it is different.”
The smirk on her roommate’s face kept Tria from asking more questions. She didn’t care to give Lina a chance to show off. Instead, she let Rehanne guide the conversation to other matters. But later, in their room, she asked Lina what she’d meant.
Lina sat cross-legged on her bed, her white dressing robe billowing around her. “So much here is clothed with illusion,” she said. “I suppose the intention is to test us to see how long it takes each one to perceive the reality beneath the illusion. I saw through the deception immediately. It’s a child’s game, really.”
“You mean, the delicious lunch we had today is no different from what they’ve been serving all along? You mean the meals haven’t been overcooked cabbage and tasteless, sticky rice, and dry fish cakes, and tough, stringy chicken, and half-raw turnips and—”
“Ugh! You’ve been letting yourself accept that kind of garbage as food?” Lina wrinkled her dainty nose. “What a fool you’ve been! Haven’t you learned to look beneath the surface of things? Don’t you know how to test for the presence of illusion?”
Lina’s disdainful tone angered Tria. She answered with a shrug, not wanting to confess her ignorance.
“I suppose I’ll have to teach you.” Lina’s show of disgust did not conceal the triumph that lit her eyes and played with the corners of her mouth.
“No, thanks,” Tria snapped. “I’ll figure it out for myself. If you learned it, I’m sure it can’t be difficult.”
Lina scowled and lapsed into a sullen silence. Tria felt guilty. She should apologize, but she was too angry with Lina for spoiling her euphoric mood. She gathered her books and left to study with Rehanne.
That evening Tria found Wilce in the library studying for exams. She slipped into the seat next to him and in whispers asked him to talk to Gray about inviting Rehanne to the ball.
Wilce pushed away the book he’d been reading. “Don’t ask me to butt in on another fellow’s business.” He sounded cross and a little guilty, a reaction she hadn’t expected. “Some of the guys are putting pressure on the rest to go alone this year. It makes sense, really. It’s not as if you girls needed transportation. All any of us have to do is walk downstairs to the dining hall. We’ll all be there, with or without dates. And a lot of the guys can’t afford to order a corsage and buy a date gift.”
“Date gifts?” Tria asked, puzzled and more than a bit hurt by his unexpected reaction.
“It’s a Simonton tradition,” he explained. “When a fellow asks a girl to the Midwinter Ball, he buys a special gift to give her just before the ball ends, while the band plays the final song.”
“Wilce, I don’t need a corsage or a date gift, and neither does Rehanne. But the Midwinter Ball is the biggest event of the year, and another Simonton tradition is for the students to go as couples.”
“Well, that tradition is going to be broken this year. A lot of the guys feel it’s time to make new traditions.”
“If you feel that way, why did you invite me? Why didn’t you go along with what the other boys decided?”
He hesitated, looking embarrassed, not answering. Tria held her breath. Had she gone too far? Would he—could he—uninvite her?
Wilce took her hand and said, “You’re special, Tria. You never flaunt your power, and you go out of your way to help others. You’re the only one who has patience with Nubba when she gets out of work by screaming about her monster. And the way you tamed Lina …”
Tria laughed. “I wouldn’t call her ‘tamed.’ I’m not sure she hasn’t simply changed her tactics.”
“Whatever you say. You know how to handle her. All right, I’ll speak to Gray. I know he wanted to ask Rehanne. I’ll convince him not to let the others influence him.”
CHAPTER TEN
EXCURSION
The excursion to Millville was Lina’s idea. “Tomorrow’s Freeday,” she said. “We can take the early morning bus to Millville. We need a break from studying for exams.”
“But you haven’t studied,” Tria said, looking up from the notes spread across her desk. “You never study.”
“So? You do.”
“You said ‘we.’”
Hands on her hips, Lina gave Tria an exasperated look. “All right, then, if you insist on precision. You need a break and I want one, whether I need it or not. I haven’t been to Millville in weeks.”
“You went Freeday before last,” she reminded Lina. “That’s not weeks.”
“It certainly is. It’s two weeks. That’s long enough for me, and you’ve never gone. You stay hol
ed up here like a badger.”
“Lina, I just don’t see any point in going. You know I don’t have money for shopping.”
“Well, you’re going to the ball, and you have nothing suitable for it. I can lend you a dress, but you have to have decent accessories.”
“I haven’t asked to borrow anything from you. Now let me work.” Tria picked up her pencil and went back to her notes.
Lina snatched the pencil from her hand and threw it across the room. “Tria Tesserell, you are the most stubborn creature ever. Here I am, trying to be nice to you, and you won’t even listen. Put those stupid notes away and pay attention. You are going with us to Millville tomorrow.”
“Us? Who’s ‘us’?”
“You, me, Kathyn, Elspeth, Bettina, Petra, Norietta, and probably Eula and Coral and Verin.”
So this really was to be a grand excursion! “What about Rehanne?” Tria asked. “And Nubba?”
Lina’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “Oh, yes, I forgot to mention Rehanne,” she said. “Now that Gray’s asked her to the ball, she’ll want to shop. As for Nubba, you can invite her if you want.”
She had fallen neatly into Lina’s trap. She would have to go to keep poor Nubba from being left out. Nubba would be deeply hurt if she was not invited when all the other first- and second-year girls except Irel and Taner were going. Irel would never go anywhere with the others, and Taner’s refusal to have anything to do with the ball doubtless included shopping for it, but everyone knew that Nubba would rather die than miss the ball.
“All right,” Tria conceded, “I’ll ask Nubba if she wants to go, and if she does, then I’ll go, too.”
Lina turned away, but the mirror reflected her triumphant smile. They both knew how Nubba would respond.
The wind buffeted them, making them grab at their long skirts as they got off the bus. Although the air was cold, Tria felt warm and comfortable in the midst of her friends. She was glad Lina had made her come.
Chattering and giggling, they headed down the sidewalk while the Millville folks gawked. It was certainly not unusual for Simonton students to visit Millville, but Tria guessed that the townspeople were not accustomed to having so many descend on them at once. Several of the people they passed looked alarmed. Mothers grabbed children and held them tightly by the hands or lifted them into their arms.
A School for Sorcery (Arucadi Series Book 6) Page 9
