Lock and Key

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Lock and Key Page 6

by Evangeline Anderson


  As I stood there deliberating, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned and saw a tall, willowy girl with black hair cut in a fashion-conscious bob. She had flashing black eyes and was wearing long silver earring threads with black and red pentagrams dangling at their ends and coal-black lipstick, which emphasized the whiteness of her teeth. Her mouth was too big for the rest of her face, which subtly ruined the perfection of her otherwise pretty features. Behind her were two other girls, also wearing pentagram jewelry.

  All three of them had blue tags on their lanyards.

  “Well, hell-o new girl,” the girl with the black lipstick cooed, looking me up and down. “Looking for the right table? You can sit with us if you have the Flame.”

  Without warning, she grabbed my left hand, forcing me to juggle my unbalanced tray with my right. I barely kept from dropping it.

  “Hey!” I protested, trying to yank my hand away. But the girl held me tight in her surprisingly strong grip, her eyes closed in apparent concentration. After a moment, she opened them and dropped my hand like it was a dead fish.

  “Huh—not so much as a spark.” She looked at me disgustedly, as though I had disappointed her on purpose somehow. “You’re supposed to be some hot-shit Latimer but you’re just a Null, aren’t you? How are you here for free while the rest of us who have real talent have to pay?”

  I was taken aback by the question. How would she know about my scholarship status? And why would she throw it in my face in front of the entire student body?

  “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said hesitantly.

  “I heard it was because her crazy Aunt Delilah came and begged Headmistress Nightworthy to let her in,” one of the other girls said, making a face. “And you know how soft-hearted old Nighty is when it comes to charity cases.”

  “She has some nerve, eating our food when she’s just a charity case Null,” the third girl chimed in. “Look—that came from the Sisters’ station!” And she pointed at my fish and salad as though I had stolen it.

  “I was told I could have what I wanted to eat,” I said, finding my voice at last. “And I don’t recall anyone telling me I had to come ask your permission first.”

  The head girl’s face darkened and her too-large mouth with its coal-black lipstick twisted into a furious scowl.

  “How dare you talk back to us, Charity Case? Do you know who we are? We’re the Weird Sisters—you’ll be sorry if you cross us.”

  I shrugged, trying to appear unconcerned.

  “I don’t care what you call yourselves, just leave me alone.”

  “Or what?” one of the other two Weird Sisters asked. “Or you’ll bespell us? Oh wait—you can’t because you’re a Null.”

  “Whew!” The third girl mimed wiping sweat from her perfect forehead. “For a minute I was scared. A Latimer witch—right here among us peasants! But it turns out she’s nothing but a Charity Case.”

  I had a sinking feeling this was going to be my new nickname, whether I wanted it to be or not. I could either slink away with my tail between my legs, or face them down, like I had Sanchez.

  I chose option B.

  “It’s true,” I said, lifting my chin, “I’m here on scholarship. But I don’t see how that’s any of your business. I won’t bother you if you don’t bother me and right now I just want to be left alone to eat my lunch.”

  “That’s my lunch you’re eating you little non-witch bitch! That came from the Sisters’ station,” the ring-leader snapped. With a sudden violent move, she slapped the tray right out of my hand.

  My cup of tea slopped over the side spilling everywhere and the green plastic tray went spinning. Baked fish, salad, and lemon wedges flew through the air in a colorful arc to land with a splat on the flagstone floor.

  I stared at the ringleader of the Weird Sisters, completely taken aback. What in the hell was wrong with her?

  Before I could open my mouth to retort, a cold new voice whip-cracked across the room.

  “Nancy Rattcliff, come here now!”

  Looking up, I saw a tall older woman with pure silver hair cut in a sleek cap that molded to her head and feathered around her temples. Despite her age—which might have been eighty—she had piercing blue eyes and she was wearing a form-fitting black dress and sky-high stiletto pumps, also in black. Her lipstick, however, was blood red and her lips pulled back to show extremely long canine teeth which looked surprisingly sharp and pointed.

  The ringleader of the Weird Sisters whipped around, her eyes going wide.

  “Headmistress Nightworthy!” she gasped and her two cohorts went pale and silent.

  “Come here at once. At once, I say!” The Headmistress demanded.

  “Yes, Headmistress.” Nancy went to stand in front of the much taller, older woman, though the sullen set of her shoulders said she didn’t want to. But clearly she was too frightened to disobey.

  “How dare you abuse another student? Especially one who is new to our world?” the Headmistress demanded, her blue eyes blazing. “I have never seen such a shameful display in my entire career as an educator! I am half inclined to expel you at once and write to every other institute of Higher Other Learning and instruct them not to admit you anywhere.”

  “No, Headmistress—please!” Nancy gasped, going pale. “My mother would be so upset!”

  “Very well. If you wish to stay, you will apologize to our new student at once,” Headmistress Nightworthy ordered peremptorily, pointing at me.

  Nancy turned to face me, her face set in sullen lines of dislike.

  “Sorry,” she muttered, giving me an unfriendly glare.

  It wasn’t exactly a heart-felt apology but at that moment, I didn’t really care. I just wanted to leave the lunchroom—and this whole damn weird school for that matter—and never come back.

  The Headmistress seemed to agree with my assessment of Nancy’s apology because her frown intensified.

  “Very well,” she snapped at the leader of the Weird Sisters. “And now you may pick up the lunch you deliberately spilled, take it back to your table, and eat it.”

  “What?” Nancy looked up at her, aghast. Clearly this was going too far. “But…it’s been on the floor,” she protested, getting a revolted look on her not-quite-pretty face.

  “I cannot see how that makes a bit of difference,” Headmistress Nightworthy snapped. “If your tastes are as low as your manners, it shouldn’t bother you at all. Now go!”

  She pointed at the fish lying in a sodden mass on the flagstones and the salad, which had spread over the gray stones in a colorful confetti of greens.

  Nancy looked up at her, hate blazing in her eyes.

  “You can’t do this to me,” she said in a low voice. “My mother is the Head Witch of the Windermere Coven! She won’t like it if she hears you treated me this way.”

  “As a Nocturne myself, I have no interest in what the Sisters do—not even the head of a coven,” the Headmistress remarked. “But I daresay your mother might have an interest in your deplorable manners here today. Now pick up the food and eat!”

  Her last words were delivered in a low, intense tone that crackled with authority. Her voice made the short hairs on my neck stand up, as though I had walked into an area that had just been struck by lightning.

  Nancy glared at her angrily for a moment but then she dropped to her knees and began gathering up my spilled lunch, not saying another word. Her friends stood behind her, obviously unsure of what to do, so they just stared as she continued working, her too-large lips compressed into an angry black line.

  The Headmistress stepped around them, neatly avoiding the mess on the floor, and came to stand in front of me.

  “Miss Latimer, I’m sorry I was out of my office when you came to be registered today,” she said formally, offering her hand. “Welcome to Nocturne Academy—we expect great things of you.”

  “Um…thank you,” I somehow managed to get out, taking her hand. It was cool and firm in my own—not at a
ll frail and wrinkled, like my own Grandmother’s hand had been when she’d gotten to be this age.

  But what age was the Headmistress? I had thought from her silver hair that she must be at least eighty but her face was surprisingly smooth and there were only a few wrinkles around the corners of her mouth and eyes.

  “Please, have a seat anywhere you like and I will have one of our Dining Hall staff bring you a replacement lunch,” she said.

  “Oh, no—that’s all right,” I said quickly. “I, um, I mean, I’m not really hungry.”

  “Of course you are,” she said smoothly. “Growing Others are always hungry. “Have a seat now and I’ll send you that lunch. Please accept my regrets for this little…scene.” She waved one long white hand elegantly, indicating Nancy still kneeling on the floor picking up fish and salad and her friends standing by watching while everyone else in the lunchroom sat in silence. “I assure you, it is not the norm,” she went on.

  “Oh, uh—thank you.” I felt tongue-tied around her—glad that her ire hadn’t been directed at me, but still anxious to get away. She seemed unpredictable, like she might do anything at all, at any time. I could also feel the weight of the entire student body’s attention centering on me as we stood there. Drakes, Faes, Sisters, and Nocturnes were all staring at me and their eyes—especially the eyes of the Sisters—were deeply unfriendly.

  “Have a seat,” the Headmistress said again and glided away towards the opening to the lunch line.

  I turned numbly and scanned the four long tables with eyes that weren’t really seeing anything at all. I didn’t want lunch anymore—I didn’t want anything but to escape.

  If I could just get out of here I’d call Aunt Dellie and beg her to come get me right away. Then I’d enroll at another school tomorrow—any other school. Even grim and grimy Frostproof High had to be better than Nocturne Academy. If I could just—

  “Hey,” a voice called. “Hey, newbie, over here!”

  10

  The voice jerked me out of my miserable fantasy of running away from Nocturne Academy and I turned to see an ordinary-looking girl with long, light brown hair waving at me. Sitting across from her was another girl who looked like she might be African-American or maybe mixed. She had lovely, creamy light brown skin—what I could see of it—and long, silky black hair which mostly hid her face from view.

  I hadn’t noticed the two girls before because they were sitting at a table in the far corner of the vast Dining Hall, almost in the shadows. There was no banner hanging over their small table but it seemed clear that they, like me, didn’t belong to any of the four main groups.

  Hesitantly, I went towards them. Was this a trick? Was it going to be a repeat of Nancy Rattcliff’s hostile behavior?

  But the girl who had called me over had an open, smiling face. She wasn’t exactly pretty—but she wasn’t ugly either. Nondescript might be the best way to describe her, although at the moment she looked beautiful to me, waving me over with her welcoming smile.

  “Hi,” she said, when I came up to their table. “I’m Emma Plunket and this is Kaitlyn Fellows.”

  “Megan Latimer,” I said cautiously.

  “Yes, we know.” Emma smiled. “Your reputation kind of preceded you. We would have called you over sooner but we thought you might sit with the Sisters and wouldn’t want to be with us.”

  “What? Why not?” I asked. At that point I wanted to be with anyone who wasn’t Nancy Rattcliff.

  “Well, we’re Norms,” Emma said. “The only two Norms in this lunch period, actually. Most of the Others don’t want to mix with us.”

  “Norms?” I asked, sitting down beside Emma and across from Kaitlyn, who shyly glanced up and nodded at me. I still couldn’t see anything but one of her eyes which was a startlingly lovely pale aqua blue that stood out in the creamy brown of her face—what I could see of it, anyway.

  “Sure you know—normal humans. There are a few of us here, even though Nocturne is the premier Other Studies Academy in the entire Southeast US,” Emma said wryly.

  I shook my head. “So you’re saying all the other students here are abnormal in some way?”

  “No—I’m saying they’re not human.” Emma looked at me closely. “You knew that, right? I mean, you look so freaked out right now. Please tell me you already knew that.”

  “I…I don’t know anything,” I said honestly. “And how can they not be human? Are you trying to play a joke on me? Because I’ve taken enough crap for one day.”

  I started to get up but Emma put out a hand to stop me.

  “Wait, please—I swear I’m not teasing you! I would never act like Nancy Rattcliff just did—believe me, all us Norms have had run-ins with her.”

  “She’s horrible.” Kaitlyn spoke for the first time in a shy, soft voice filled with feeling. I noticed she was sitting with her hands beneath the level of the table, and peering out from the curtain of her hair intently, as though trying to size me up.

  I shook my head again.

  “I just…I don’t know what to believe anymore. This has been the weirdest day of my life.” And that was saying something, considering all the strange things that had happened to me lately—including the black key necklace which still hung like a weight around my neck.

  “So…you didn’t know anything about this place before you applied?” Emma asked, frowning.

  “My Aunt Dellie put in the application for me when she found out I was coming to live with her,” I confessed. “I didn’t even know she had until this morning when the acceptance letter came in the mail. I was all set to attend Frostproof High up until then.”

  “Ugh!” Both of the girls made faces at my mention of the local high school.

  “Well, you really dodged a bullet there,” Emma remarked candidly. “Kaitlyn and I both went to Frostproof High for our freshman year. It’s about as interesting as watching paint dry.”

  “Boooring,” Kaitlyn agreed, nodding emphatically.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I could use a little boredom right about now.”

  “I bet you could if you didn’t know anything about Nocturne before this morning,” Emma said. “But did you at least know about the Other world?”

  “Other world?” I asked, frowning. “What other world?”

  “Not ‘other world’ like a different world from this one—I’m talking about the world of the Others,” Emma emphasized. “You know—the Drakes and the Faes and all the rest.”

  “Oh my God—she didn’t know anything.” Kaitlyn sounded shocked and horrified as she read my confused expression. “How awful!”

  “I still don’t know anything,” I pointed out. “At this point—”

  Just then one of the cafeteria ladies—the same one who had served me—came up to our table and gave me a new tray and a new glass of iced tea. I thanked her, glad to see the tray contained exactly the lunch I had lost—baked fish, lemon wedges, and salad. I squirted one wedge over my fish and one over the brilliant greens while I waited for her to get out of earshot and then continued where I had left off.

  “At this point, I feel like I’m going crazy,” I said to Emma and Kaitlyn. “I mean, at least now I know what Norms are but what is a Null? And if all these other people aren’t human, then what in the world are they?”

  “Well—those under the red banner are the Nocturnes,” Emma began practically. “Kind of what the outside world calls ‘vampires’ only they don’t burn up in sunlight, like all the legends say. I mean, some of the more powerful ones have eyes that are really sensitive to it, but that’s about it.”

  “Really?” I wasn’t sure whether to believe her or not, but she was speaking in such a matter-of-fact tone it was hard to disbelieve entirely too. Also, I couldn’t forget Griffin’s dark glasses, which he seemed to wear everywhere.

  “They don’t have a problem with garlic or crosses or sunlight either,” Kaitlyn remarked. “Those are all just legends made up by humans who were scared of them and wanted to feel safe. But
really, they’re very kind. At least, the family sponsoring me is.”

  “Kaitlyn lives with the Breedloves,” Emma explained. “On the weekends, anyway.”

  “I’ve been with them since the fire,” Kaitlyn said quietly and then looked down to pick at her food—the unappetizing-looking bright orange casserole which she and Emma were both eating.

  I wanted to ask “what fire” but just then I caught sight of her hands. She, like me, was wearing a long-sleeved winter uniform blouse instead of a short-sleeved summer one. I couldn’t see her arms but the skin on the backs of her hands was twisted and scarred—whitish-pink instead of the smooth brown I had seen on her face—the part of it I could see, anyway.

  “Moving on,” Emma said diplomatically. “The Faes are from the Realm—which really is a whole other world. Most of the ones who come here are sent by their parents for political reasons or because they got into trouble at the Seelie Court or because they need to be able to pass for human during business negotiations. They come through the Obsidian Portal to get here.”

  “Wait—the what portal?” I asked.

  “It’s kind of a magic door located somewhere on the school grounds—nobody but the Fae and the Headmistress knows where, though,” Emma explained. “And since no one without Faerie blood can pass through to get to their world, it’s kind of a one-way door, unless you’re Fae. It’s all very complicated.” She waved a hand, as though the situation was too convoluted to go into.

  “Okay, got it. And the Drakes?” I asked, eyeing Sanchez who was flicking some of the rare roast beef with his fork at another beefy looking boy sitting further down the table from him.

  “Oh, they’re were-creatures,” Emma explained, as though I should know what that meant. “They change forms.”

  “What—like werewolves?” I asked, frowning.

  “Hardly.” Emma laughed, as though this was a silly suggestion. “They’re not called Drakes for no reason you know. They change into dragons.”

 

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