Finally, the ferry whistle blew, and the man pulled himself away from his daughter, wiping a dripping nose on his sleeve. “You’re sure you’ll be okay? Do you have enough blankets? Have you eaten enough? Have you used the washroom?” he sputtered as he took one last look back.
“Oh my gosh, yes!” said Charlie, urging him away. “I’m fine. Please, you’re embarrassing me.”
A couple minutes later, the whistle blew again, and the ferry began to hum and pull away from the dock. Charlie wrapped herself in a big blanket, propped herself against the rails, and stared steadily forward, scanning the horizon for some sign of the island of Avalon.
Kuro looked down at the docks as the ferry sounded its horn to signal departure. There was a forest of waving hands from tearful parents and siblings too young to join the ride. One very serious man with a cat carrier stood unmoving in the crowd, staring at Kuro. Kuro did not look back at the Hound; his eyes were focused on Graeae, his only friend, trapped in a cage staring back with a look of deep betrayal. Kuro watched her, silently begging her forgiveness for as long as he could.
The ferry slid away from the dock, towards the mouth of the river, where freshwater mixed with the saltwater of the bay. There, the veil was thin enough to pass back and forth between worlds with relative ease. The ship pressed up against the wavering edge of the veil until a salty wave crashed past, pushing the veil with it. They passed through the shimmering barrier and sloshed out into the mundane world. The hum of the magical motors cut out, and moments later, a rumble of diesel engines started up, and they began to move again.
In an instant, the dock was gone, along with the thick forest and wide river. The only sign of the fey realm was a faint shimmer of the veil at the mouth of where the river had been. Even there, it lacked the clarity of substance that it had on the inside. From without, it looked like the shifting sheen of sunlight reflecting off silk caught in a breeze.
The Blandlands were, as the name implied, pale and dull. They looked as though someone had washed half of the colour out of everything. The world looked, smelled, and sounded muted, like someone had put a bag over Kuro’s head. He was used to this effect in the cities, but this place was worse than most. It was rocky and populated only by sparse shrubs and windswept pines.
Kuro wondered if he could make it to shore and live in the wilderness of the Blandlands if he dove from the boat now. But the bleak shore didn’t encourage much hope. He considered himself pretty accomplished at surviving on the streets, but there weren’t any streets to be seen, just endless hills of lichen-covered rocks and short crooked trees.
Kuro returned from his reflections when he realized that Charlie was still talking to him, though she hadn’t bothered to face him. Her eyes were still fixed on the horizon. “What do you think your familiar is going to be? Someone said we don’t learn to summon them till second year, but I’m suuuuper curious what mine will be. It’s probably gonna be something boring and common like a housecat or a dog or a crow, but maybe it’ll be something cool like a tiger or an elephant. Wouldn’t that be awesome? An elephant would be really useful around the farm for lifting stuff.”
Charlie continued to talk, barely pausing for breath as the choppy water slid by beneath the boat. She had grown up on a farm with her dad far out in the country, where they raised magical creatures. Her dad was a stray, like Emily from the lost and found, but her mother had been a witch from Tirnanog. Apparently, there had been a hard fight with the Summer Court to let him keep the animals when her mother had died. Strays aren’t supposed to own magical creatures. Charlie had been a loophole, though. She was a witch living on the farm, so she was the witch in charge, and her dad was technically just a caretaker. She said the rule was ridiculous because her dad knew more about the animals of the fey realm than any dumb wizard.
She told Kuro of the menagerie of beasts that she’d cared for over the years, from the strange petrifying chicken-lizard creatures called cockatrices and the now sway-backed unicorn, whose poop smells like cotton candy, to fireproof lizards called salamanders and a family of wood sprites that stole all her pencils and used them to hunt beetles. She talked about her favourite books, foods, colours, seasons, and clothes. She talked about her hopes and dreams for school, the classes she was looking forward to, and the fantastic mysteries of the island she planned to uncover.
Kuro was annoyed with her at first. He was sad and bitter and had no interest in hearing from someone attending Avalon voluntarily. But she was relentless. She spoke more that morning than Kuro had over his entire life. Her eagerness and bright spirit invaded his misery, and after two hours of her ceaseless optimism, he was having trouble holding on to his dread. To make matters worse, she finally decided to include Kuro in the conversation.
“What’s your name?”
Kuro was so surprised by having to say something, he tripped over his tongue trying to remember what it was. “Um, . . . I don’t . . . I’m called Kuro.”
“Cool. I’ve never heard that name. Where are you from?”
Kuro was saved from having to explain his history by a clamour at the staircase to the lower decks, as another group of students climbed to the top level.
“Good afternoon. I’m terribly sorry to interrupt,” said a girl with a courtly Acadian accent that would bankrupt most people to achieve. “But we thought it would be ever so nice to become acquainted with our fellow first years before we arrived.”
Kuro recognized the pompous tone of the girl from the shoe store. He looked up to see her effortlessly flowing locks cascading over her perfectly fitted uniform. She was flanked by two equally well-groomed young women. “This is Merissa Kleppmann and Sara Mahdavi, Charmed Daughters of the Summer Court.” She gestured gracefully at her partners before introducing herself. “And I am Evelyn Lemieux d’Ys. Pleased to make . . . your . . . acquaintance.”
Evelyn’s well-rehearsed speech stumbled to a halt as she actually took the time to look at whom she was addressing. Her perfect manner crumpled as none of the three passengers on the deck paid her any mind.
“Hi,” said Kuro, making no effort to hide his dislike.
“Hello,” said Charlie brightly, though she didn’t even turn to face the new arrivals, still too fixated on the horizon to bother with them.
The girl alone on the far bench glared at Evelyn with the same feral distrust that she had shown to Kuro.
“It is common courtesy to stand and introduce oneself when being addressed,” asserted Evelyn imperiously.
“Oh,” responded Kuro. Given that Phineas hadn’t wanted Kuro introducing himself at all, he’d never been taught how to do it properly. He thought this might be useful information but had no intention of using it to please Evelyn.
“Well.” Evelyn’s airs of grace had all but dissolved. She forced a smile and turned to the silent girl on the far bench. “And what about you? You’re not so uncouth as these . . . delinquents, are you? Can I ask your name?”
A stream of rather coarse-sounding French was all the girl offered the prim and proper trio.
“Well then,” said Evelyn brusquely as she turned and marched to the door. “I suppose we will see you at school. Come on, girls, let us find peers with some sense of propriety.”
“They seemed nice,” said Charlie without a hint of sarcasm. “Who was that talking French?”
Kuro chuckled. Charlie was so fixated on the misty island barely visible in the distance that she hadn’t even looked to see what was happening.
“That was our neighbour.” Kuro braved a wave at the angry French girl. “I’m not sure she speaks English, but I think I like her.”
“Bone joor. Je me apple Charlie,” Charlie shouted loudly and slowly. “This is Kuro. Do you want to be friends?”
There was a long pause, and Kuro watched the girl tense and relax a couple of times. “Marie,” she said at last. “My name is Marie.” She spoke with a distinctive French accent.
“Nice to meet you, Ma
rie,” said Charlie exuberantly. “Where are you from?”
“Montreal,” she said cautiously.
“Like the big city outside the veil?” Charlie chattered excitedly. “Are you from outside the veil? Are you a firefly? That would be so cool. I’ve never met a firefly. What’s it like in the Blandlands?”
Kuro could see Marie starting to tense up again. “Charlie,” Kuro tried to interrupt. “I don’t think she knows what any of that means.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. So, a firefly, that’s a person from the Blandlands who’s got magic. Not like a stray, though—those are people with just a little bit and can get through the veil by accident but can’t really use any magic. Oh! The veil is what we call the wall between the fey realm and the Blandlands. It was the rainbow wall thing at the shore near the docks,” Charlie said without pausing for breath. “How long since you crossed over?”
“About a week,” Marie said defensively.
“Oh man, this must be just crazy for you. Well, if you need to know anything, just ask. I mean, I don’t know everything, ’cause if I did, I wouldn’t have to go to school, but I want to go to school, so it’s okay. Do you guys even know about Avalon outside the veil? Oh wait. Maybe you will be my roommate since Kuro can’t ’cause I’m pretty sure he’s a boy. What residence are you staying in?”
“Autumn Lodge,” replied Marie, as though uncertain whether that was good or bad.
Charlie did not leave any room for doubt.
Though she still refused to take her eyes off the growing misty speck on the horizon, she shouted with delight. “That’s the same as me! I’m pretty sure it’s the best residence. The others sound really stuffy and boring. We get the best weather, too. What about you, Kuro? Where are you staying?”
“I don’t know,” answered Kuro.
“How can you not know?” Charlie exclaimed in disbelief. “It was all over the welcome package.”
“I didn’t read the welcome package,” Kuro grumbled. He’d been so bitter about the whole situation that he hadn’t been able to bring himself to read the pamphlets.
“How could you not read the package?” Charlie sounded scandalized. “Well, I can sort it out for you. I mean it’s pretty easy. Are you royalty?”
“Definitely not.”
“Are your parents landed, or titled, or knighted, or anything like that?”
Kuro was less certain about that. Phineas said that he used to be an important person in the Summer Court, but Kuro was pretty sure that being exiled and arrested for treason and murder meant that didn’t count anymore. Also, Kuro wasn’t Phineas’s son, just his servant. “Um, no,” he replied after what was probably too long a pause.
“Right, did anyone important sponsor you, like a patron, or a scholarship or something?”
Kuro didn’t think what Dubois had done to get him into Avalon counted as patronage, certainly not a scholarship. “I don’t think so. . . .”
“Well, then, you’re in with us!” she shouted delightedly. “Autumn Lodge, where us ordinary folks and fireflies go. None of that mess about court and bloodlines and succession and stuff. You’re better off with us even if we’re not roomies.”
Kuro hoped she was right. He much preferred the idea of living with people like Marie and Charlie to mingling with the likes of Evelyn, though he thought it more likely that he’d be held in a dungeon cell than a fancy residence.
The sun was high in the sky by the time the island of Avalon came into clear view. From the Blandlands side, it was not a beautiful place—a largely barren mass of granite slabs thrust at hard angles from the cold waters of the bay. Sparse shrubs and gnarled trees bent by the wind dotted the rocky isle. From a distance it looked covered in blowing snow, but as they drew closer, the drifts resolved into flocks of white birds.
The ferry turned, moving as if to land in an inlet on the shore, where a small stream emptied into the bay. It was barely big enough to land a canoe in, let alone a massive boat. As the ferry grew closer to an inlet, Kuro could see a faint wisp of the veil shifting and shimmering, washing in and out with the saltwater waves. Even knowing that they were about to pass through the veil, Kuro found it difficult not to tense up as the ferry continued to drive directly for a rocky shoreline without slowing.
Charlie squealed with glee, Marie swallowed and tensed, and Kuro just held on to his seat as the boat sped toward the rocks. Just as the prow was about to collide with land, the veil swept over them. The bleak and barren rocks were replaced in an instant with a vibrant forested island.
The passage back into the fey realm was an assault on the senses. After hours acclimatizing to the faded colours, muted sounds, and indistinct smells of the Blandlands, the brilliance on the other side of the veil was overwhelming. The greens of the grass and trees, and the petals of the flowers in bloom, were so bright that Kuro had to squint to look at them. The scents of each individual blossom announced its presence in Kuro’s nose with such intensity that he almost choked, and sounds rang out so crisply that he could pick out which leaves on which trees were contributing to the orchestra of rustling.
As his senses adjusted, Kuro tried to absorb some of the geography of Avalon Island. The rough outline of the island echoed its Blandlands counterpart, as was typical, but that is where the similarities stopped. The Blandlands side was all sharp angles and jagged edges; behind the veil was all gently rolling hills. Where the land outside the veil was barren, Avalon was lush and thick with trees. Despite being a dreary cold autumn day on the Blandlands side, it appeared to be a pleasantly cool spring afternoon on Avalon. At least on this part of Avalon. Directly ahead, where the ship was docking, the fruit trees were in full bloom, and birds sang in every branch. In the distance to the right, tall pines appeared to be covered in snow. To the left, the trees were tall and lush, with a full summer growth of leaves.
The actual size of the island was difficult to determine. The space of it was warped like that of a fairy road, and distances were deceiving. The shore seemed to stretch on for miles, but the centre of the island looked so close that Kuro felt he could throw a stone at it. He knew that to be an illusion, though, as far too many trees stood between the shore and the centre for that to be possible.
Jutting up from the centre of the island was a huge plateau. The sheer stone pillar rose fifty yards or more above the tallest trees, dominating the landscape. On it stood an imposing limestone building that looked more like a fortress than a school. It had steep slate roofs and tall pointed spires, giving it the look of a serrated blade.
An anxious knot grew in Kuro’s stomach as the school loomed closer. The twisted space of the island made it appear impossibly close, as though standing over him and looking down in judgement. The knot unravelled in surprise as his seatmate burst into exuberant action.
Charlie jumped from her seat the moment the ferry dock was in view like a spring that had been wound too tight, breaking her unmoving vigil. She grabbed her overstuffed hockey bag and threw it over her shoulder, knocking Kuro sideways and out of his gloom. She started scrambling to the door while shouting, “Come on, you two! What are you waiting for?”
Kuro and Marie looked to each other with shared trepidation and uncertainty. There was little they could do, though, to combat Charlie’s insistent enthusiasm. They gathered their things and followed.
Eight
Autumn Lodge
Evening was setting in by the time the students were able to disembark. The moment the doors opened onto the wooden pier, they began swarming out. In their grey uniforms, they looked like a wave of scurrying rats invading the pristine island.
Up from the dock was a parking lot paved with small interlocking bricks. The varied colours of the bricks rendered the crest of the school: a raven with its wings spread, on top of a golden fleur-de-lis, inside a red maple leaf, all inscribed by an intertwining knotted pattern. Waiting in the lot were three lines of transport ready to take students off to their residences: one of ele
gant carriages pulled by powerful white stallions, another of ornately carved sledges pulled by caribou with ribbons and bells decorating their antlers, and finally a line of black limousines.
Students streamed to the three lines, being met by footmen and chauffeurs who loaded their luggage and guided them to their transports. After a few moments of uncertainty on the dock, Kuro noticed a fourth stream of students, those who were not being helped aboard anything. They were stacking their luggage in a creaky old hay wagon harnessed to a sleeping grizzly bear. Those students did not wait for a chauffeur to drive them. They just walked down the road into the woods under their own power.
Everyone except Kuro seemed to know exactly which way to go. As he scanned for some indication of what he was supposed to be doing he caught sight of a familiar face. Bella, the shoe thief, was passing her bags to the chauffeur of one of the limousines. She caught sight of him, too.
They locked eyes, hers full of hate, Kuro’s with fear. What was she doing here? Shouldn’t she be in prison? Kuro stood, trapped in her angry gaze while other students swarmed around him.
A booming voice drowned out the din of the crowd and broke the hold she had on him. “Any first-year Autumn Lodgers, this way, please!” hollered an enormous girl, a head taller than the next tallest student and built like the ferry they had just been riding. She grinned broadly, exposing jagged, pointed teeth, as she gathered a small flock of students and led them toward the wagon. “Stack your stuff on here unless you feel like dragging it all the way through Summer.”
“Come on!” Charlie wrestled her overstuffed hockey bag across to the wagon, where the large girl tossed it casually onto the growing pile of trunks and suitcases.
By the time Kuro and Marie had made it to the cart, the large girl had started shouting again. “Is that everyone? Hold still so I can count you!”
Volume 1: Pickpocketing Page 9