by Gemma Holden
“Mrs Lynch,” Raiden called. The teacher stopped. “I brought something with me. It’s in my carriage. I wasn’t sure what to do about it.”
“You haven’t brought your dog with you again?” the teacher asked, looking up sharply.
“No.” It was two years since she had brought Chester to school. She had thought he was locked in her room while she was in class. She hadn’t realised as a ghost dog, he had been running through the walls and chewing the other girl’s shoes. No one had been able to work out who was doing it, until Raiden went back to her room one day to find him gone. “On the way here I came across a man.”
Mrs Lynch looked scandalised. “A man! And he’s in your carriage?”
“He’s dead.” Mrs Lynch looked relieved. “He was dead when I found him. He’d been attacked. I didn’t know what to do so I brought him with me.”
Mrs Lynch stared at her coldly. “It is not appropriate to bring the dead here. It is against the school rules.”
“Actually, that’s just zombies. There’s no mention of dead bodies in the school rules.”
Mrs Lynch stared at her until she fell silent. “I will have to tell Miss Grimble about this.”
She had been afraid of that. “I understand.”
Mrs Lynch gazed sternly at Raiden. “It’s too late to have someone come and collect him tonight. We will have to store him until the morning.”
She marched away to the front door muttering to herself. Raiden let out a breath. She was relieved she hadn’t had to explain to Miss Grimble how she came to have a dead body in her carriage. Maybe this year things would go better at school.
She grabbed the handle of her trunk and picked up her violin case. She dragged the trunk to the doorway that led off to the classrooms and nearly collided with an ogre who was coming through.
The ogre smiled at her revealing a single tooth in his mouth. “Raiden,” he said. “You’re late.”
“I know Grub.” Her head was level with his chest. She had to tilt her head back to see him. “I was held up with something.”
Two trunks were balanced on his massive shoulders. His thick arms strained under the fabric of his shirt. The fabric looked as if it would burst apart at any moment. Both his shirt and trousers were covered with patches where his clothes had been mended a dozen times before. Big ears stuck out from his head. He didn’t have much hair, but what little he had was brown.
“Have you seen Cassade?” she asked.
He nodded his head vigorously. “She waved to me. She’s down there.” He gestured down the hall.
“Thank you Grub. I’ll go and find her.”
“Mr Grub, I wanted those trunks put away before dinner.” Raiden hadn’t seen Miss Grimble come up behind Grub. Miss Meek hovered in the air behind her. The tiny fairy was on level with Miss Grimble’s face.
Miss Grimble, or Grumble as the students called her, was a lean woman. The skin was stretched tightly over her bones. Her brown hair was streaked with grey and permanent frown lines marred her forehead. The black dress she wore hung on her bony frame. It gaped at the front where there was nothing to fill it. Her pale blue eyes stared coldly at Raiden in disapproval.
Grub didn’t move to obey her; he was gazing at Miss Meek. He appeared entranced by her. He couldn’t help it. Ogres had a fascination with fairies.
“Mr Grub, those trunks won’t move themselves,” Miss Grimble said. Raiden winced at the shrill sound of her voice.
Grub bent his head and hoisted the trunks further up onto his shoulder. He kept his gaze on the floor as he spoke. “Bye Raiden.”
“Bye Grub,” she said softly. She watched him walk away, his head down.
Miss Grimble pressed her thin lips together. “Miss Feralis, you have just returned to this school and you have already got a member of my staff in trouble.”
Raiden didn’t want to argue with her. Ogres were no longer kept as slaves, but they were treated little better. “Grub didn’t do anything wrong.”
“He is not allowed to speak to the students. I thought I had made that quite clear last term.”
“I’m sure Raiden simply forgot,” Miss Meek chimed in. The tiny woman hovered in the air. Flecks of fairy dust fell from her fragile wings as she beat them. She wore a drab brown dress and a minuscule pair of thick rimmed glasses perched on her nose. Her brown hair was pulled back in a bun. She dressed so plainly, not like the other court fairies Raiden had seen, but then, Miss Meek had been raised by humans. She tried to dress like a miniature human, as though people would forget she was a fairy, but she couldn’t disguise her eyes. They were a brilliant turquoise, and her ears were long and pointed like all the demon races.
Miss Grimble frowned at the fairy “It is not proper to be so familiar with the servants.”
“I’m sure it won’t happen again,” Miss Meek said, wringing her hands.
Miss Grimble turned back to Raiden. “I will overlook your behaviour this time, but there will be no more incidents this term.”
“Yes, Miss Grimble,” Raiden replied, keeping her gaze lowered. They’d had a similar conversation last term. And the term before that. And the term before that as well. In fact, Raiden couldn’t remember a time since she had been at the school that she hadn’t been told off about her behaviour. On her very first day she had ended up in Grumble’s study.
Miss Grimble was no longer paying her attention. She was looking past her and frowning; another girl had caught her notice.
Raiden gathered up her violin case. “I should go and unpack.”
Miss Grimble was already striding away to intercept her next victim. Raiden picked up her things and fled.
****
Trunks were piled up along either side of the corridor. Raiden struggled to drag her trunk through the narrow gap and keep hold of her violin. The younger girls pressed themselves against the wall to allow her to pass, but the older ones pushed by, shouldering her out of the way. Doors led off to the classrooms, while further along the corridor led to the older part of the manor that was now only used for storage.
Cassade sat on her trunk, a bowl of water on her lap and a small cage by her side. The black ribbons of her bonnet were untied. Strands of her golden brown hair had come loose from her braids and hung around her face. The expression in her grey eyes was grave as she watched the other girls, but as soon as she saw Raiden her expression changed. Smiling, she set the bowl of water down and rose to meet her. Cassade hugged her around the violin case. Raiden awkwardly hugged her back. The feel of her friend’s arms felt strange after being alone in Northumberland. The ghosts rarely touched her.
“I was beginning to worry you weren’t coming,” Cassade said. “I’ve been waiting for you for hours.”
“I got held up.” She never realised how lonely and isolated she was in Northumberland until she got back to school. It was a relief to be speaking to someone who wasn’t dead and who could actually talk back.
“What was it this time? Harpies? Trolls?”
She dropped her trunk next to Cassade’s and sat down on it. “I found a dead body on the side of the road. I couldn’t just leave him there to be eaten so I brought him with me.”
Cassade sat down next to her. “I’m sure Mrs Lynch was pleased.”
“She was overjoyed,” Raiden said. “When did you get back?”
“This morning. My sister wanted to get back to see her friends. She had her trunk packed a week ago ready to come.”
It always amazed Raiden there were some girls who did not dread coming back to school, but who actually looked forward to it. She had always wondered what it would be like to not have to force herself to get into the carriage at the start of every term.
A soft snoring sound came from inside the cage next to Cassade. Florence, Cassade’s miniature dragon, was curled up, asleep as usual. The creature had a tiny bonnet on its head and a blanket wrapped snugly around him. Its skin was pebbled with dark blue scales and it had a long snout from which the snores were emitting, and
tiny silver claws. Miniature dragons were fashionable at the moment to have as pets. All the rich had one. Cassade wasn’t one to follow fashion. She had rescued Florence from a factory where they were being skinned to be made into gloves. Raiden had never seen what the appeal of them was. Their skin was cold and clammy. It was like holding a slug. They were vulnerable to the cold and keeping them warm enough was difficult. They weren’t meant for the British climate.
“I wish you had come and stayed with us over the summer,” Cassade said. From her letters, Cassade had spent the summer in London, going to museums and lectures while her sister made her debut to society. She had three older sisters all now out in society; it would be her turn next year to be presented.
“My grandmother insisted I stay in Northumberland.”
Cassade linked her arm with hers. “It will be the last time you have to stay there on your own. Next year it will be our turn to make our debut.”
“Did anyone make an offer for your sisters?”
Cassade withdrew her arm. She absently stirred the water in the bowl. A small transparent face with delicate features appeared in the water at her touch. The undine smiled at Cassade before disappearing back into the water. Cassade was a water witch and she often brought Amatheia to school. “No. For a while we hoped someone would offer for Tamesis. He appeared to be courting her, but it never came to anything.”
“I’m sorry,” Raiden said.
Cassade shrugged as if she didn’t care. “It’s his loss. Do you want to take the trunks up to our rooms?”
“Isn’t Grub taking them up?”
Cassade rolled her eyes. “He’s still hauling Blaize’s trunks up. She had five of them.”
It would be a long time before Grub would get round to their trunks. Raiden wanted to wash the grime and dust from her face and change her dress before dinner.
“We could take them up ourselves,” Cassade suggested.
“It means leaving one here while we take the first one up.”
“We’ll just have to be quick.” Cassade carefully set the bowl of water containing the undine down on the floor. “We’ll take your trunk up first.”
“No, you’ve been waiting the longest.”
Cassade left Florence next to Raiden’s violin. They took one end of the trunk each. Cassade went first, walking backward and looking over her shoulder to see where she was going.
“What have you got in here?” Raiden asked, her arms straining under the weight.
“A few books.”
A few books from Cassade could mean a few dozen.
“Did you see your father over the summer?” Cassade asked as she navigated through crowds of girls and piles of luggage.
“He couldn’t get leave from the army,” Raiden said, hoping Cassade would drop the subject. She didn’t want to talk about her father.
Cassade frowned. “Surely he’s due some leave by now? It’s been nearly a year since you last saw him and Northumberland isn’t far from where he’s stationed.”
“He was needed at the Wall. He said they couldn’t spare him. But he promised he would come back for Christmas.”
Her father served on the Antonine Wall in the far north of the country, keeping the demon hordes that lay beyond at bay. He said he would get leave in the summer and come and see her, but he hadn’t come. He had promised to come home last Christmas as well, but he had written at the last minute to say he couldn’t make it.
“I’m sure he would come and see you if he could,” Cassade said.
Cassade’s father had never let her down. He always kept his promises.
“I’m sure he would,” Raiden agreed, but she didn’t believe it.
Chapter Two
A life sized portrait of the Grimwoods hung halfway up the main staircase. Lady Grimwood sat on a chair, holding a plump baby on her lap. Her husband and elder son stood behind her, both dressed in black. The younger son, perhaps three or four years old, stood next to her. They all looked so solemn and grave - even the baby.
After her husband had been killed in battle fighting for King Charles, Lady Grimwood had killed her own children, intending to raise them from the dead. But before she could complete the ritual, Cromwell’s forces had arrived to arrest her. Cromwell had ordered the children’s bodies burnt and their ashes scattered. According to the stories, Lady Grimwood had gone mad with grief. Cromwell had walled her up alive somewhere in the manor with her zombies, leaving them to tear her to pieces.
They went slowly up the stairs. With the trunk at an angle, the contents moved down to Raiden’s end.
“Perhaps we should have waited for Grub,” Cassade said, breathing heavily.
Raiden looked up at her friend whose idea it had been to carry the trunk upstairs themselves. “Perhaps we should have,” she agreed.
They were halfway up when Cassade frowned and suddenly stopped. “What is it?” Raiden asked. She craned her head around to see what the problem was. A girl was coming up the stairs. Raiden tightened her grip on the trunk as she passed them. Long white hair, the same colour as her ivory skin, flowed over the girl’s shoulders and down her back. She was so pale, even her eyelashes were white. Her pale blue eyes and her pink lips were the only colour in her face. She wore a white cloak lined with fur over a black dress, and she held a white muff in her long white hands. As she passed it seemed to get colder. Raiden tried not to shiver; it was what the girl wanted.
The girl stopped on the stairs above them and turned around, barring the way. She stared down at them, her lip curled in distaste as though something particularly repugnant was crawling up the stairs.
“Glacia,” Cassade said in greeting.
“Cassade,” Glacia said, inclining her head. The two of them were distant cousins of sorts, but then a lot of the water families were related to one another in some way.
Glacia didn’t move. Cassade stared back. Neither of them was going to give way. They were stood in the middle of the stairs and it was a long way down. Raiden’s arms were aching, her fingers turning red. She couldn’t hold on for much longer.
“Was there something you wanted?” Cassade asked.
Glacia smiled. “No.” She widened her eyes innocently. “I’m not stopping you am I?”
“Of course not.”
“Raiden,” Glacia said, “whatever happened to your dress?”
Raiden knew she was referring to the filth that covered her skirts. “Nothing. What happened to yours?”
Glacia frowned. “Nothing happened to it.” She peered over her shoulder, trying to see the back of her dress. “What’s wrong with my dress?”
Cassade pressed her lips together to stop herself from smiling. Realising she was being mocked; Glacia narrowed her eyes and glared at Raiden. “You will pay for that.” She turned and stormed up the stairs. Ice formed on the steps as she went.
They continued on up the stairs. The ice was already beginning to melt. “I shouldn’t have said that,” Raiden said. She was becoming as petty as Glacia.
“I hoped it would be different this year,” Cassade said with a sigh.
Raiden said nothing; there was nothing she could say. She always hoped it would be different, but it never was.
They hauled the trunk the rest of the way up the stairs. The landing led to the large bedrooms that belonged to the younger girls who had to share. The bedrooms for the older students were at the very top of the manor, where the servant’s quarters had once been. They took another flight of stairs and then a smaller one. There wasn’t much light. Raiden narrowly missed treading on a huge black spider. The creature quickly scurried away.
They reached a small landing. Here, there were eight doors leading off to bedrooms. At the end of the landing, just before the stairs leading to their floor, was Blaize. She stood waiting with Glacia. Blaize wore her red hair loose down her back, swept over one shoulder. Her flawless skin was as pale as Glacia’s.
Raiden knew they weren’t there by chance. Cassade glanced back at her and rais
ed her eyebrows. Raiden shrugged. There was no other way up; they would have to go past them to get to their floor.
Blaize watched them as they passed her, her eyes intent on Raiden.
“I don’t know why she’s come back,” Blaize said. “She has no magic. She shouldn’t be here.”
“Did you see her dress?” Glacia asked.
Raiden knew they were referring to her. Blaize continued to talk as if she wasn’t standing in front of them. “Someone said she turned up with a corpse.”
“A corpse?” Glacia said with contempt. “Why would she bring a corpse to school?”
“Perhaps it was her mother.”
Laughter followed them as they went up the narrow staircase. Cassade shook her head, but said nothing. The narrow stone staircase twisted round and round. It was awkward trying to get the trunk up; they had to stand it almost vertical and lift it up a step at a time. An archway led off to their floor, although the stairs continued on up. They once led to the attic, but they had fallen in and crumbled. At night, Raiden could sometimes hear something large and heavy moving about up there, but whatever it was, they were trapped in the attic.
There were seven rooms on their floor; four bedrooms, a sitting room and a tiny bathroom with a sloped ceiling they banged their heads on. Cassade’s room was next to Raiden’s. On the other side of Cassade’s room was Glacia’s room. The remaining room belonged to Heather, an earth witch. A tangle of vines was visible beneath her door.
Cassade pushed open the door to her bedroom and they let the trunk fall to the floor with relief. There was a brass frame bed in the corner of the room, with clean white sheets and a rose coverlet. A huge wardrobe stood next to a dressing table and on the other wall was a fireplace which was unlit. There was no carpet; just bare floorboards. A small square mirror hung above the dressing table. The frame was plain wood; there was nothing to suggest it was anything other than an ordinary mirror.
Raiden turned to go back down the stairs.
“Raiden,” Cassade said, stopping her. “What Blaize said about the corpse being your mother…”