“Ha-ha-ha-ha—what?” Mrs. Hornsby demanded. “Can’t…heeheehee…wait that long!”
Headmistress Nightworthy frowned.
“Yes, I am afraid that is less than optimal timing, considering that the moon is new right now—we would have to wait almost a month to effect the cure.”
“Well, I can look through the grimoires in the Spell Library.” Ms. Yasmeen sounded doubtful. “But there aren’t usually counter spells for good magic.”
“This…ha-ha-ha…is not good! Hee-hee!” Mrs. Hornsby exclaimed—she was snarling and laughing at the same time as she spoke—a very odd combination.
“I can help her—at least I think I can,” Megan volunteered. “Only, I’ll need your permission, Headmistress,” she went on, looking up at Headmistress Nightworthy. “And something to stick myself with.”
For a moment the tall Nocturne Headmistress looked uncertain but a glance at Mrs. Hornsby, who was still giggling angrily in fits and starts, seemed to decide her.
“Very well, Miss Latimer,” she said, frowning. “This one time only you may perform your magic outside of class.”
“Thank you.” Megan nodded respectfully. “Now, if anyone has a pin?”
“Here you are, Miss Latimer.”
Ms. Yasmeen pulled what appeared to be an ivory chopstick engraved with strange symbols out of her long, orange hair. She spoke a few words over it and the end sharpened to a point as sharp as any needle.
“Thank you.” Megan took the sharpened chopstick from her and poked the pad of her left index finger. As a drop of ruby red blood welled on her fingertip, she looked at Mrs. Hornsby and simply said, “Stop laughing.”
At once the Home Ec teacher stopped giggling and sank, gasping, onto a high-backed chair wooden across from the Headmistress’s desk.
“Oh!” she moaned, lifting the bottom of her apron to wipe at her face with trembling hands. “Oh, that was awful!”
“It most certainly was, I am sure,” Mistress Nightworthy said. “Myra, I am so sorry—”
“You promised me!” Mrs. Hornsby interrupted, pointing a shaking finger at the Headmistress. “You promised me when I agreed to take the job at this screwy place, that no ‘magical mishaps’ would befall me. Those are your words, Headmistress Nightworthy—not mine. You said that all the teachers here were ‘warded against bad magic.’ You promised!”
The Headmistress looked troubled.
“Well, yes I did, Myra,” she began. “But you see, we don’t usually find it necessary to ward anyone against white magic—that is, spells which are generally used for good.”
“How can you say this was a ‘good’ spell?” the Home Ec teacher seethed. “Did you see what it did to me? I was humiliated in front of my entire class. And all because of her!”
She pointed at Megan who looked at her, plainly too shocked to speak. Since my Coven-mate couldn’t talk for herself, I had to talk for her, though it was difficult for me to speak up to the angry teacher.
“Mrs. Hornsby, please,” I said. “It wasn’t Megan who put this spell on you—it was Nancy Rattcliff and her friends.”
“How dare you blame those sweet girls?” Mrs. Hornsby raged. “Why, they’ve never been anything but perfectly angelic. Whereas from the moment this one…” She pointed at the still-stunned Megan, “Came into my classroom, things started going wrong. Do you know how many fire alarms I’ve had to cancel because of her, when she burned her baked goods and set off the alarm? Or how many foul concoctions I’ve had to taste—some that looked perfectly normal like the chocolate cupcakes she frosted with Marmite or the oatmeal cookies she flavored with soy sauce instead of molasses—that made me want to retch? This girl is to blame!” She stabbed a finger at my Coven-mate. “Megan Latimer is a menace.”
“But…but I’m the one who helped you stop laughing,” Megan exclaimed, finding her voice at last.
Mrs. Hornsby looked down her nose at my Coven-mate, her nostrils flaring.
“That’s what you say anyway, but why should I believe you? How do I know you didn’t put that spell on me just so you could ‘rescue me’ from it and try to get a better grade? Well, it won’t work!” she exclaimed, before Megan could even answer. “You’re getting an F on your final project, Miss Latimer! And your little friend is too,” she added, sneering at me.
“Mrs. Hornsby, that is really unfair!” Megan cried. “Especially to Kaitlyn who just came into your class today. Surely you can’t give her and F—she’s not even a Sister or any other kind of Other—she’s a Norm! There’s no way she could have had anything to do with the spell that was put on that cake.”
“I don’t care what she is, the both of you are getting Fs for this entire unit,” the Home Ec teacher snarled. “And before you ask, no, I will not let you out of my class, Miss Latimer,” she went on, glaring at Megan. “You will be staying to learn how to sew. Though unless you can make a dress fit for a princess, don’t expect to pass the next unit either!”
Turning in a huff, she stomped out of the Headmistress’s office before Megan or I could protest, shooting us one last venomous glance over her shoulder as she went.
12
Kaitlyn
“Headmistress Nightworthy, this is completely unfair!” Megan exclaimed, appealing to the tall Nocturne as soon as Mrs. Hornsby was gone.
“Yes, Miss Latimer, I am aware,” the Headmistress said dryly. She frowned at Ms. Yasmeen, who was looking thoughtful. “I sense there is something else behind this—something other than the ‘cheer up’ spell you detected.”
“You could be right,” Ms. Yasmeen murmured. “I believe I did sense another spell on her—I think it might have been a ‘feel good’.”
“A feel good?” I asked, completely confused. I was taking a History of Magic class but it didn’t go into the minutia of all the millions of different spells the Sisters could perform.
“It’s a spell that makes someone have warm and affectionate feelings towards the person who casts it,” Ms. Yasmeen explained. “It’s not technically classed as black or bad magic because it does no direct harm, but it is extremely manipulative. It’s often used by politicians, for instance, to get a certain segment of the people they are trying to influence to vote for them.”
“It is?” Megan’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know some politicians were Others!”
“Oh my, yes.” Ms. Yasmeen nodded. “Just because the humans outnumber us Others is no reason for us not to mix among them. Sisters and Warlocks gravitate towards politics and Hollywood is filled with Faes—they’re so beautiful, you know—humans are very susceptible to beauty.”
“What about Drakes?” I asked, before I could stop myself. “Are some of them in the human world too?”
Ms. Yasmeen nodded. “Yes, certainly—they gravitate mostly towards the armed forces. Many of the greatest generals were Drakes. Napoleon was one and so, we believe, was Julius Caesar.”
“Nocturnes, of course, prefer to manipulate things from behind the scenes,” Headmistress Nightworthy said. “There are many of us in the world of high finance.” She frowned. “But speaking of manipulation, this spell—this ‘feel good’—as you pointed out, Ms. Yasmeen, is extremely manipulative. Do you think it is possible that Miss Rattcliff and her friends laid it on Mrs. Hornsby in order to insulate themselves in case their other spell was traced back to them?”
“That’s an extremely devious plan but yes, I wouldn’t put it past Nancy.” Ms. Yasmeen shook her head. “I know you want to rehabilitate her, Headmistress, but I’m afraid there is hardly anything good in that girl worth rehabilitating in the first place.”
“Ms. Yasmeen, please.” The Headmistress nodded to Megan and me. “You know it is never my policy to discuss one student in front of another.”
“Forgive me.” Ms. Yasmeen bowed her head briefly in apology.
“Forgiven.” The Headmistress nodded back.
“Excuse me, Headmistress, but do you want me to take that spell off Mrs. Hornsby too?” Megan asked.
“I mean, so she can realize that Nancy put that cheer up spell on her and that Kaitlyn and I are not to blame?”
“Unfortunately, even magic as strong as yours cannot completely remove a deeply entrenched feel good,” Ms. Yasmeen said, before the Headmistress could answer. “A properly placed feel good spell will actually become part of an individual’s personality. It is almost like a kind of brainwashing—to the point that even if the person who cast the spell on them did something horrible or stupid or evil right in front of them, they would still love that person and ignore their misdeeds.”
Megan’s eyes widened. “I can see why it’s such a useful spell for politicians. If your constituents will forgive anything you do and vote for you no matter what, you could be the most corrupt, incompetent person on the planet and still stay in office. I mean…you could shoot somebody in the middle of a busy street and your voters wouldn’t even care!”
“That is exactly right, Miss. Latimer.” Ms. Yasmeen smiled at her. “You may have an F from Mrs. Hornsby, but please be assured you will be getting an A in my class this semester to balance it out.”
“But an F is terrible for your GPA!” Megan looked crestfallen. I knew that though she was no longer quite certain she wanted to go to graduate school and get a PhD in Fourteenth Century Literature, she liked to keep her possibilities open. Also, she was one of those people who are extremely concerned about their grades.
I was pretty worried about mine myself.
“I would rather not have an F either,” I said quietly but firmly, looking up at the Headmistress. “Especially when neither Megan nor I have done anything wrong to deserve it.”
Headmistress Nightworthy sighed.
“I’m well aware of that, girls. I will have another talk with Mrs. Hornsby once she has, er, cooled down a bit, but I can promise nothing. It is Nocturne Academy’s policy not to dictate to its teachers how their students are to be graded.”
“But—” Megan began again but the Headmistress held up one slim white hand to stop her.
“As I said, I will do my best for you, Miss Latimer. In the meantime, I must see to Miss Rattcliff.”
She clapped her hands again and the same gerrund appeared before her. (At least, I thought he was the same one—he had the same pointy red cap, anyway.)
“Go and get Nancy Rattcliff and her two cohorts from the Home Ec classroom,” she told him. “And use the shortcut—I want to see them at once. Oh, and bring the remainder of the chocolate cake that Miss Latimer and Miss Fellows baked as well. I don’t want anyone else falling victim to the three-squared cheer up spell which has been placed on it.”
“At once, Mistress of Nocturne,” the little gerrund boomed in his deep voice. Then he took off like a shot and was gone.
13
Kaitlyn
“Miss Latimer, Miss Fellows,” Headmistress Nightworthy said, turning to us once the gerrund was sent on his mission. “I do not usually approve of disciplining one student in front of another. But in this case, I believe you have the right to see what happens to Miss Ratcliff and her friends, considering that the malfeasance they performed has affected you directly. Please stand over there.” She pointed to the far corner of the office. “And do not become involved. But you may stay and watch.”
As she finished speaking and Megan and I scooted over to where she had indicated, the gerrund returned with Nancy and the other two Weird Sisters in tow.
The two girls with her looked frightened but Nancy had her arms crossed sullenly over her chest and a look of studied indifference on her face. She sneered at me and Megan when she came into the office but didn’t say anything at all, even when the gerrund—who looked ludicrously small carrying the tall cake stand with its even taller chocolate cake—entered behind them and set the cake carefully on the Headmistress’s desk.
I was glad to see there was still only one piece missing from the dense, chocolate cylinder of cake. If anyone else in class had been stupid enough to try it, there could have been big problems.
The Headmistress didn’t waste any time.
“Miss Rattcliff,” she said, frowning at Nancy. “Did you and your fellow witches put a three-squared cheer charm on this cake that Miss Fellows and Miss Latimer made?”
Nancy didn’t bother to deny it.
“Yeah. So what?” she asked in a bored voice.
“Miss Rattcliff, a little respect if you please!” Headmistress Nightworthy’s voice crackled like a sudden bolt of lightning in the small office and despite herself, Nancy stood up taller and put her arms to her sides.
“Yes, Headmistress,” she said sullenly. “We be-spelled the cake.”
“And did you do it with the express purpose of getting Miss Latimer and Miss Fellows in trouble with your Home Economics teacher?” the Headmistress demanded, a cold, steely glint in her blue eyes.
“Why, no Headmistress!” Nancy opened her eyes very wide, clearly trying to look innocent, I thought sourly. “We just wanted to cheer up poor little Kaitlyn there.” She pointed at me and my stomach seemed to fill with acid as I stared back at her. “She always seems so sad and down in the dumps,” Nancy went on, just as though she really gave a rat’s ass how I felt. “And we thought our little spell would cheer her up. We didn’t mean to overdo it—honestly.”
Her little performance might have won an Oscar but thank goodness, it didn’t appear to fool Headmistress Nightworthy who had crossed her arms over her chest and was tapping her perfectly manicured fingernails against her upper arms as she stared coldly at Nancy.
“Miss Rattcliff,” she said flatly. “Have you heard the saying, “I wasn’t born yesterday?’ No, don’t bother—it’s a rhetorical question,” she went on before Nancy could answer. “It speaks to the presumed gullibility of the recipient of a particular claim or excuse. And let me assure you, Miss Rattcliff, at the age of five hundred and sixty-five, I was not born yesterday and I am in no way taken in by your little act.”
“But Headmistress—” Nancy began but the tall Nocturne held up a hand to stop her.
“It is my belief that you placed this extremely potent spell on Miss Latimer and Miss Fellow’s cake for the express purpose of getting them into trouble. And I further know that you insulated yourself from any repercussion on Mrs. Hornsby’s part by placing a feel-good spell on her as well, so that she would be pleased with you no matter what your magic did to her.”
Nancy’s black eyes got even wider with apparent shock and guilt. It was the first genuine expression of emotion she’d shown since she walked into the office and I saw Ms. Yasmeen nodding as her theory was proven correct.
“Don’t bother to speak, Miss Rattcliff,” the Headmistress went on calmly. “Your face tells me everything I need to know.” She leaned forward and pointed at Nancy. “I promised your mother, before she was sent away for life in prison, that I would watch over your education and never expel you from Nocturne Academy. But there are consequences other than expulsion which can make your life and the lives of your cohorts extremely unpleasant. Do I make myself clear?”
Nancy pursed her lips but apparently knew better than to smart off or lie a second time.
“Yes, Headmistress,” she said sullenly. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
By which she doubtless meant the three-squared cheer charm, though I was certain she would probably think of other ways to turn seemingly innocent magic to her own nasty ends.
“It had better not,” Headmistress Nightworthy said sharply. “But an apology is not enough in this situation—there must be consequences for your actions.” She looked at Nancy and the other two Weird Sisters. “The three of you will be assigned to kitchen and clean-up duty for the next month. You will be helping to serve the food and afterwards, you will be cleaning the entire Dining Hall—by hand—with no magical help at all.”
“What?” Nancy exploded. “But that’s menial labor! My mother is head of—” She stopped abruptly.
“Yes, Miss Rattcliff? Do go on,” Headmistr
ess Nightworthy said coolly, raising an eyebrow at her.
“My mother wouldn’t like this,” Nancy said sullenly. “And she pays good money to send me here.”
“Correction, she paid good money,” the Headmistress said crisply. “Unfortunately, much of the fortune she acquired went to the legal fees she incurred during her trial. As of right now, you are a scholarship student, like Miss Latimer, here.” She nodded at Megan.
“Headmistress,” Megan said, speaking up. “I don’t mean to interrupt you, but aren’t you afraid if Nancy and her friends help serve the food, they’ll do something, well, nasty to it?”
Headmistress Nightworthy nodded.
“A very good point, Miss Latimer. I am not concerned about magical interference since our kitchens are a magic-free zone, in order for the ovens and stoves to work, but it’s certainly possible to tamper with food in many non-magical ways.”
“Please! We’re not going to mess with your disgusting Norm food,” Nancy spat at Megan and me.
“No, you most certainly will not,” the Headmistress said, frowning. “Because for the next month, the three of you will be eating from the Norm selections the cafeteria offers at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Just as an insurance policy against any contamination you might be contemplating.”
“What?” Nancy squealed. “Headmistress, you can’t do that to us! We’re Sisters—we have certain dietary needs—”
“Which, as I understand it, are not that different from what humans need to thrive,” Headmistress Nightworthy said calmly. “So a month on the Norm diet won’t hurt you a bit. Now…” She clapped her hands with finality. “I’ll be certain to speak to the cafeteria and janitorial staff to let them know you’ll be helping out. And I will be getting regular reports to be sure you’re doing a good job without shirking.”
Nancy’s face turned red and then white as the Headmistress spoke. Her thick lips grew thinner and thinner until they almost disappeared into a thin white line.
Fang and Claw: Nocturne Academy, Book 2 Page 7