Oonagh and John, the only people still standing, high-fived each other and declared victory. They began freeing the other students. Liam MacDannan, who was more of a gentleman than his scampish younger brothers, cut Rachel down and freed her from the band of golden light that had trapped her arms.
By this time, she was very cold indeed. Her teeth chattered, her ribs ached, and her legs were so cold, they burned. Rachel looked around in hopeful expectation, certain that her friends would come over and apologize for abandoning her. Nastasia, however, merely stood next to Joy, her brow furrowed.
“I am very disappointed in my performance,” the princess said, hanging her head. “I was not able to take down all our opponents.”
Joy laughed. “Are you kidding! We did great! We held our own against all comers for over seven minutes. Even Wulfgang and Siggy, who are as good as we are, couldn’t take us! It took two seniors, working together! We’re the greatest!”
Nastasia refused to be comforted. Her face was pale, her jaw set. She seemed unusually upset for such a small defeat. “This failure is completely unsatisfactory. I must get stronger! If I don’t, I will not be able to protect my friends, and they will d…” Her voice trailed off.
“Okay, everyone!” Joy shouted cheerfully. “Regroup for Round Two.”
The students immediately formed pairs. A feeling of panic returned. Rachel backed away, willing herself not to break into a run and flee.
“Rachel, aren’t you going to practice with us?” called Joy.
Nastasia looked up in surprise, her bottom lip trembling slightly when she saw Rachel retreating. “Won’t you stay, Miss Griffin? It is so nice when we all practice together.”
“No, thanks!” Rachel called back. “I-I think that was enough for me. Must go!”
Chapter Fourteen:
Discoveries in the Snow
Rachel slipped into the woods, chafing her legs and jumping until she felt warm again. She then ran through the paper birches with their curling, parchment-like bark. Coming up behind Dare Hall, she glanced at the fourth floor window behind which lay her dorm room. The window was cracked open. Her cat, Mistletoe, sat on the sill, gazing out at the forest. He jumped out of the way when Rachel called to her broom.
“Varenga, Vroomie!”
The steeplechaser slipped through the opening and flew down to her hand. Rachel hopped on and sped away at high speed up over the forest. Not wanting another close call like her recent adventure with Sigfried and Lucky, she was careful to stay inside the school wards. While the wind was bitterly cold, the sky was bright and blue with only a smattering of clouds. There was no sign of the storm goblin or his lightning imps.
Rachel flew very fast for a time, until she stopped feeling quite so sorry for herself. She had known that it was a bad idea to practice with her more talented friends. She should not whine because it had turned out badly. Still, she could not help feeling a little resentful toward the princess, for not at least clueing her in and helping her find a partner.
A movement in the forest caught Rachel’s attention. Slowing down, she peered through the branches. A young woman with a long golden braid and a bright blue coat stood in the snow. Beside her, an exquisite white reindeer nibbled on the bark of a young tree. Rachel could not see her face, but she knew this must be Merry Vesper, the girl from her broomriding class who worked at the menagerie with Joy’s sister Hope. Rachel knew nothing about Miss Vesper, except that she was a junior at the Upper School who lived in Marlowe Hall and who had been seriously ill during her first two years of school. She seemed very sweet and always full of bright cheer.
Rachel circled around until she found a place to land. Flying down until she was below the level of the branches, she maneuvered among the bare lower trunks. It was much warmer down here; where the wind did not blow as hard. Only now, however, did she feel how chapped her cheeks were. Darting among the trees, she drew closer to where Miss Vesper stood. As she came closer, Rachel gasped and halted.
Woodland animals were coming out of the forest and surrounding the fur-clad young lady. A yearling deer pranced toward her on slender hooves, followed by a young raccoon with bright, beady, black eyes. A squirrel leapt from a tree to her shoulder. An owl hooted sleepily on a nearby branch. Overhead, a pair of cardinals sang, adding a splash of red to the winter scene. A porcupine waddled from behind a trunk and sniffed noses with the graceful reindeer, whom Rachel recognized as Merry’s familiar. Two foxes came from the underbrush and chased each other around Miss Vesper’s legs.
Rachel watched spellbound. This scene would make sense to her if the young woman were playing an instrument or even singing. Enchanters could summon beasts of the forest, but Merry was standing absolutely still, smiling as if the creatures were old friends.
Rachel watched an instant longer, but it seemed a shame to disturb this pretty gathering. Much as she herself would have loved to pet a deer or chuck an opossum under its chin, she was reasonably sure that if she made her presence known, the animals would flee, and the magic of the moment would be lost. Retreating, she quietly flew away. Still, the charming mystery of it lifted her spirits, and she hummed to herself as she went.
Flying back to campus, Rachel emerged from the woods into the open area behind Roanoke Hall where, thanks to what she now knew to be the youthful adventures of Locke and Dread, only scrub grew. With its blanket of snow, it looked like a lumpy field. The tree stumps and the scars where Mr. Chanson had emerged, when thrown through the earth at high speed by the tail of Dr. Mordeau’s dragon form, were all hidden beneath the fluffy whiteness,. An older student sat shivering on one of the stumps, reading a book. She was a young woman with curly black ringlets wearing a threadbare coat that looked more like a dinner jacket than a winter parka. Her familiar, a chipmunk, scampered around, poking here and there, leaving a tiny trail of footprints in the snow. Rachel nodded to her politely and continued on her way.
She flew over this treeless area and up to the roof of Roanoke Hall. Increasing her speed despite the bitter chill, she whipped around the towers and spires, racing through the icy air. Her time practicing in the gym both aided and hindered her. The larger size of the mock version nearly led to her striking her head on an arch that was higher in the gym.
She was fascinated to observe the maneuvering of her broom in light of her recent physics lesson. Her bristleless moved with nigh-inertialess grace. An airplane had to bank to turn. Rachel could bank if she wished, but she also could spin around the broom’s center of gravity. This allowed her to rapidly change direction—rapidly but not instantly. As she spun, she wondered idly if she could calculate the degree of the broom’s drag.
In light of her near-disaster with Sigfried and the school wards, she flew through the towers and spires with the becalming enchantments on, practicing maneuvers in this mode. This proved all but impossible, so slow and clumsy was the bristleless in this configuration. She could have gone faster on foot, and when it came to banking, her pony turned more swiftly. She had no question that this amount of drag could be quantifiably calculated!
After three more circuits through the roof landscape, she decided to lap the soccer field in the center of Roanoke Hall. She zoomed above the long, thin sections of roof atop the four sides of the square that made up the hall. As she sped along, dodging the corner towers, she wondered what her boyfriend was doing. Gaius had told her that he planned to spend the day studying. Was he in the library, poring over a book? Or down in the Summoning Chamber in Drake Hall, working on a practical assignment? Would she be disturbing him if she spoke to him?
She had not anticipated, when she convinced Siggy to give Gaius a calling card or when Vlad gave her the black bracelet, the enormity of the temptation involved. At any moment—in class, between classes, during meals, at work, curled up in bed—Rachel had the capacity to instantly speak to her boyfriend. And she wanted to do so all the time. The thought of it nagged at her incessantly. Some days, it seemed as if her life was nothing but the cons
tant battle between the part of her mind that invented more and more outrageous reasons for talking to him and the part of her mind that did not want to trouble him—especially after his comment at O.I. about being interrupted by calling cards in class.
Worst of all, when she did find the courage to call to him and he was busy, no matter how nicely he explained that he was unavailable to speak, she felt crushed. Had she disturbed him? Was he annoyed? Was he actually busy? Or was he talking with friends—or other girls—and did not wish to be interrupted by the mindless chatter of his thirteen-year-old girlfriend?
She had not realized having a boyfriend would be so difficult.
In truth, she was not particularly worried about other girls, but the thought of him spending time with his friends, Vlad or William or Topher, and not inviting her along made her heart ache. If only she could be part of their group. If only the two groups, hers and his, could work together. She did not quite understand why they seemed so far apart, other than that the princess did not like Vladimir because he had brushed the back of his hand across her skin when she had told him not to touch her, causing her to disobey her father’s order.
But that had happened months ago. Why couldn’t the princess put that matter behind her?
Rachel thought again how the imperious prince had knelt before her and slipped the black bracelet onto her wrist. Even up here, flying into the bitterly-cold, icy winds, she felt heat rise in her cheeks. She pressed an ice-covered mitten against her face: the coldness of the scratchy wool felt good against her hot skin. If truth be told, she might have a bit of a crush on her sister’s boyfriend—in a not-betraying-Gaius sort of way, of course.
If she were willing to be brutally honest, she had started to fall for Vladimir Von Dread well before she was aware he was Sandra’s boyfriend. She knew the precise moment it had happened. She had been sitting, covered with a blanket, on the floor of her favorite hallway up in Roanoke Hall. It was the day after Vlad turned Gaius into a sheep (ram!). Gaius had been sitting across from her, reading a Darius Northwest book. The two of them were talking about saving the world, and Gaius had mentioned that he and William wanted to help, too.
When she had asked about Von Dread, Gaius had replied that Vladimir was different. He thinks the world’s actually under attack.
And, of course, so did Rachel.
When it came to protecting the world, Vlad was serious. Rachel really admired that.
She came around Roanoke Hall and started a second lap. Below, the MacDannans and Darlings were preparing to depart for their Thanksgiving feast. A group of students stood around them with comics and pens in hand, hoping for autographs from their famous parents.
The rest of her friends were still practicing. Siggy and Wulfgang had once again squared off in front of Nastasia and Joy. Zoë Forrest was creeping around the back of Roanoke Hall, her greenstone patu in her hand, while Hildy Winters ran around in circles, waving her arms and shouting, whether on purpose or because of an enchantment, Rachel could not tell.
As she barreled along on the next leg of the square, coaxing her bristleless to higher speeds, Rachel thought back upon her friends on the ground, amused by their antics. They….
In her memory, darkness billowed around Zoë Forrest.
Rachel shouted and turned back. Below, Zoë, her Maori war club in hand, was sneaking up behind the upperclassman in the threadbare coat, who sat on her stump absorbed in her book. Zoë’s face was contorted into a nasty snarl, as if she intended the hapless reader great harm.
With a shout, Rachel dived at her friend, urging her steeplechaser to even greater speeds. The freezing wind cut her face like tiny knives and blew through the weave of her mittens. Rachel whistled, and blue sparkles rushed from her lips. The enchantment struck Zoë just as she swung her war club toward the reader’s head. Zoë froze, her outstretched arm a mere foot-and-a-half her would-be victim.
The young woman leapt to her feet, her eyes wide with alarm. She gaped at the frozen girl and her weapon.
“Sorry, playing a game,” Rachel called cheerfully, waving from her broom.
The young woman nodded hurriedly. Closing her book, she pulled the collar of her thin coat around her ears, scooped up her chipmunk, and ran off. Rachel circled Zoë slowly. Remembering back, she could see that even though Zoë was frozen, the darkness surrounding her wavered and billowed. It leapt like flames around a burning log, only shadow-black.
Zoë was possessed!
It was not an ordinary darkness either. Merely remembering it made Rachel want to retch. She grabbed at her calling card with her mitten.
“Siggy! Nastasia! Joy! Quick! Zoë’s in trouble!”
• • •
“I can see the darkness!” Lucky announced. “It’s gross. Want me to breath on it? It might pop like the wraith.”
Sigfried and Lucky peered closely at Zoë. Nastasia and Joy stood a little farther back. Beauregard came forward slowly, stiff-legged, sniffing and growling. Rachel, still on her broom, hovered beside them.
“Wait, Lucky! You might hurt Zoë,” Joy cried. “Can we be sure you won’t hurt Zoë?”
“We should not do anything hasty.” Nastasia’s calmness was soothing. Immediately, Joy looked less frightened, and Rachel felt heartened. “The Wisecraft have many experts on depossession. They’ll have her back to normal in no time. All we need to do is go get the dean or a proctor. I suspect Mr. Badger will know what to do.”
“Wish Goldilocks were here, instead of back in Maine with her dad,” Siggy said glumly. “We could use some brains right now.”
Rachel admired Siggy’s loyalty to his girlfriend, but she couldn’t see what good a girl who grew up among the Unwary would do them right now. What they needed was….
A shiver ran through her. What they needed did not exist, not on their world, anyway. If there were a way to banish a demon from a human body, O.I. would have found it—or her grandfather would have.
She had been about to call Gaius for help. Now she changed her mind. Gaius would call Dread, and Dread would order Locke to bring Zoë to O.I. where the other demons were trapped. And they had already told her that they had no way to free a host from demon possession. The image of Zoë stuck in caramel, next to Egg and Morax, filled her with horror.
And here they had all been so happy Zoë had been rescued.
Rachel’s hands began to shake. “W-what do we do?”
“I told you,” replied Nastasia soothingly, “we call Mr. Badger. He will know what to do.”
“I…am not sure we should,” Rachel’s voice sounded raspy, even to her ear. “If it is a demon, there’s no one on earth who can help. We must look…farther afield.”
“You mean beyond the Earth? Beyond Pluto? Exactly right!” Siggy cried, “We’ve got to look to the Metaplutonians! One of them is sure to know what to do. Of course, this thing in Zoë is probably also Metaplutonian.”
“Why assume it’s a demon?” asked Nastasia, “And not a ghost or a specter or a brollachan?”
Rachel shivered. “Can’t you feel the evil? Besides, she picked it up outside this world.”
Rachel thought of her dream, where the storm-bearing hart had scooped up Zoë from the bowels of Hell. She shivered again.
“I think Lucky should give it a shot,” said Siggy. “Lucky, pull!”
Lucky darted forward and exhales out a plume of dragon’s breath well above Zoë’s head, where, according to Rachel’s memory, the black aura writhed. Smoke curled upward. What seemed to be the air itself issued a hair-raising scream, such as Rachel had never heard. So eerie and terrifying was the sound that her shoulder-length hair lifted off her scalp. Her friends also drew back, alarmed.
Zoë began to move. Joy’s cheer of delight died stillborn as they watched the awkward, jerky motions of Zoë’s body. A sharp crack rang out with each movement. Beauregard let out his yippish growl, baring his teeth and running back and forth, guarding his mistress.
“It’s forcing Zoë to move!” Rach
el cried. “Even though she’s still paralyzed.”
Nastasia’s face had gone entirely bloodless. “Will that hurt her?”
“Yes! Yes!” Joy cried. “Unparalyze her! Quickly!”
“But then it might do worse things! She was about to…hurt somebody when I froze her,” Rachel cried. “Which do we do? Keep her this way, or let her go?”
“Attack it again, Lucky,” cried Siggy. “It’s weakening.”
“Pathetic worm,” a harsh voice spoke from Zoë’s mouth. “Harm me again, and I shall kill this weak mortal. As it is, she shall suffer for my pain.”
Zoë was still paralyzed Each motion of her body caused a painful cracking noise. She began to writhe, and a low, horrible, slurred moan issued from her mouth.
“Oré!” Siggy used the Word of Ending—which had freed the ensorcelled pilots of the jumbo jet—to no avail. All it did was free Zoë from the paralysis.
Immediately, Rachel whistled again. Zoë froze in the act of kicking Siggy in the head. Sigfried shouted the other cantrips he knew, but none had a useful result.
“Do something! Call a tutor! Maybe James Darling and Scarlett MacDannan are still on campus. I’ll…go get help!” cried Nastasia.
“Take my broom,” Rachel jumped off and locked the levers for simpler flying.
The princess met Rachel’s eyes and nodded once, a silent vow to protect Rachel’s beloved bristleless. Then she grabbed Vroomie and climbed on. Nastasia zoomed off around the building with Beauregard running beneath her. Rachel could hear her shouting, “Help! Someone! Help! Emergency!”
“Wha—” Rachel’s head felt cloudy, full of uncertainty. Her normal decisiveness had fled. She considered over and over the same fruitless options. “W-what do we do? Keep her frozen or let her go?”
The Awful Truth About Forgetting (Books of Unexpected Enlightenment Book 4) Page 16