Then, Rachel remembered: Eunice’s parents had been arrested this fall.
She looked at Eunice more closely. The older girl was laughing loudly, but her laughter sounded forced. How sad and weary she looked. It came to Rachel suddenly that this young woman might not be so mean, if she were not deeply unhappy. And Rachel, who had overheard Eunice’s interview with the Agents, knew that the other girl had much about which to be unhappy. Her parents had been part of Mortimer Egg’s murderous cabal.
Rachel’s anger evaporated, leaving only a feeling of compassion. It would not change the way that Eunice treated her, of course, nor make the petty behavior of her minions easier to stomach, but the older girl’s meanness no longer hurt Rachel’s feelings. It was a start.
Smiling, Rachel looked around again. Her eyes fell on John Darling. Though she tried for over a minute, she could not think of a single nice thing about him. She did not feel ready to forgive him yet. Behind him, however, was someone she most certainly should forgive.
• • •
Rachel tugged at the sleeve of her sister Laurel. “I don’t suppose you could conjure me a pair of skates that fit?”
Laurel turned and scowled at her. Rachel smiled, her eyes full of hope and love. Laurel’s scowl died away, and she gave her little sister a big grin.
“Of course, I can! Anything for my little sister. What color would you like them?”
“Purple,” said Rachel, because purple was the color of enchanters, and she wished to celebrate her new loyalty to Dare Hall.
Now that she had decided not to leave the dormitory on Moving Day, she was beginning to feel proud to be living among the Enchanters. Of the entire group of freshmen in Dare Hall, only David Jordan had decided to move. He and his familiar, a mouse named EPD (short for Electronic Pointing Device) had left for Raleigh to live among the alchemists. The rest of the inhabitants of Dare were, as Joy had put it, happy to be stuck with each other.
Laurel led her over to a fallen tree and had her sit down. Taking off Rachel’s shoes, Laurel ran her hands over her little sister’s feet and ankles. Then she put her fingertips together and pointed them upwards.
Laurel’s first three tries looked nothing like skates.
“Oh, this is so difficult without Tormie! He’s snug and warm back at the dorm, the lazy tom! Even if I could rouse him, it would take him twenty minutes to get here. Let me try again.”
Tormie was Laurel’s familiar. In a family where the cats all had names like Moonbeam, Starshine, Evenstar, and Mistletoe, Laurel had named hers Tormenter of Mice.
“Um…could someone else’s familiar help?”
“Only if I could talk to it.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem.” Rachel’s eyes sparkled. She pulled out her mirror and called. “Lucky, could you come by for a moment.”
A bolt of gold and fiery red dropped from the sky, landing next to them.
“What can I do for you, small brainy blood-sister?” asked Lucky the Dragon.
“Can you help my sister conjure?” asked Rachel curiously.
“Sure thing.” Lucky looked up, as if he could see something over Laurel’s head. Laurel was gaping at the talking dragon with her mouth hanging open. Rachel reached over and pushed on her sister’s chin. Laurel shut her mouth with a snap.
“Talking dragon familiar,” murmured her sister. “Um. Right.”
This time, when Laurel said the Word of Becoming and drew her hand down, Lucky waved a silver-bottomed claw. A beautiful pair of silver skates with bright purple laces appeared out of a puff of mist just in front of her sister, who caught them and handed them to Rachel.
“Thank you, funny dragon.” Laurel scratched Lucky behind his horns.
“Ah, yeah! That’s the spot!” He made a noise of happy contentment before zipping off again with an, “Okay, gotta go. Boss needs me.”
Rachel waved from where she sat on the fallen tree. Then, she watched as Laurel slipped the new silver and purple skates onto her little sister’s feet and began lacing them up for her.
“How come Sandra was on the Student Council, and you’re not?” she asked Laurel. “Is it because you’re a wild child?”
Laurel paused, snorting with amusement. “When do I ever boss anyone around? No one is crazy enough to ever put me in charge of other kids. Charlie is much better suited for it.”
Rachel laughed. “Me, too. I’d be a horrid delegate. Delegates have to stand in front of crowds.” With a happy smile, she added, “Though Vlad says, someday I’ll be one of the strongest sorcerers in the school. That’ll be cool!”
“Vlad?”
“Vladimir Von Dread.”
“Wait. T-the Prince of Bavaria? The scary dude who practically runs Drake Hall? Mr. High-And-Mighty-In-Black-Leather-Gauntlets? My little sister is on a nickname basis with the Lord of Evil himself?”
Rachel nodded pleasantly.
Laurel paused and looked at Rachel oddly. “You really have changed, little sis, haven’t you? I…I think I saw it but just wasn’t prepared. It’s okay to change. But you were always the quiet one. Except when you were on your broom and bashing into things. But Father never told you to stop flying because you were his favorite. I thought it was because you always listened.”
“I have changed,” Rachel replied. “Things happened that…have changed me. But I don’t think I was ever quiet, Laurel. Rather, I was living out grand and dramatic adventures through books and stories. My life, in my mind, was full of action and wonder, but it didn’t show on my face—because my body didn’t happen to be in the place where I was living, if that makes sense.”
“No. But that’s okay.” Laurel went down onto her knees on the ice, so that she was looking up at Rachel’s face. “I’m also sorry I snapped at you before, that time with Charlie. Also, so silly of me, I forgot you have a cat familiar. So, falling off a broom at a hundred feet up can’t hurt you, you little crazy stunt girl,” Laurel roughed up Rachel’s already flyaway hair, sending black locks every which way. “Thanks to your familiar gift, you should be able to fall from any height and land safely—though, despite the popular saying, not always on our feet.”
Rachel sighed. This was probably not the time to tell her sister the truth about Mistletoe.
“Next thing we know,” her sister continued, “you’ll be dropping out of the sky right and left, like Merlin Thunderhawk.”
“You know, Father actually does that,” Rachel murmured, recalling seeing her father come through the high window of Veltdammerung’s underground hideout to rescue her and Sandra from Egg. It had not occurred to her that he need not worry about landing due to his familiar. Like everyone else in the family, Father’s familiar was also a cat.
Laurel added. “I haven’t got used to who you are now. Please, give me some time to adjust. I haven’t wanted to think about it, but Peter was right. We didn’t take you seriously, and horrible things happened to you. Things we could have stopped. Should have stopped. If we had listened. And now it’s too late. I am sorry. So sorry. Will you ever forgive me?”
Rachel leaned forward and awkwardly hugged her. Again, her heart felt lighter.
“You didn’t answer.” Laurel’s voice quivered. “Does that mean you think we can’t be forgiven? I can understand that. I would be angry, too.”
“Of course, you are forgiven!” Rachel cried. “I love you!”
Laurel hugged her back. She was shaking but not crying.
Squeezing her tightly, Rachel whispered, “You were right. I should have listened to Father…. Then everything would still be…”
Rachel wept.
“It’s okay,” Laurel said soothingly, rubbing Rachel’s back. “I am sure you did what you thought was right. Don’t second guess yourself. You can only…do…what…”
Laurel’s eyes began to glow with a beautiful light, golden and warm. It dispelled the biting cold of the winter evening. When her sister gazed at Rachel, it felt as if the Comfort Lion were near but even more so. Rachel had never se
en such a light before, and yet she felt as if she had always known it, her whole life.
Laurel spoke, and her voice was so beautiful that Rachel feared her heart would break. Only, it did not. Instead, a musical quality in the words soothed her heartache, filling her with peace and joy and hope—as if all her pains and sorrows were but bad dreams.
“Do not despair. Despair is a weapon of your enemies. They have embedded it deep in your heart. Know you that with a wave of My hand, I have calmed the oceans. With a wave of My hand, I parted the darkness from the light. With a whisper, I called forth all of creation. Now I cleanse you of your inner wounds. Only I, young Rachel Griffin, can see the beginning and end of all things. Remember this when you have doubts.”
Chapter Thirty-One:
For, Lo, I Shall Open a Door
Once again, Rachel fell into a vision:
The darkness bubbling below the universe started to rise toward the world, as it had when the Lion had saved Zoë. Then, golden light fell from the heavens. Unlike the beam in her previous vision, this flash lit up everything. The darkness receded far, far below. It began to inch back up, but now it was much more like a beaten dog than a roaring tide. When it stopped, it seemed farther away than it had been before the Light came.
Rachel was herself again, standing on the ice with Laurel, whose eyes still glowed brightly with the golden light. The biting winds of February swirled around them, but where they sat, winter had no power. Peace and joy encompassed them. Rachel was reminded of being curled up in their mother’s lap, eyes half open, listening to a favorite book, one whose every word she loved. She was vaguely aware that she was still bound by sadness. At the moment, however, its chilly fingers could not reach her heart.
Laurel’s eyes stopped glowing. She swayed a bit and smiled. Then she shook her head. Then she blushed from head to toe, bright red.
“Sorry, I just got distracted a bit I guess. Whoa.”
Laurel stood up. She leaned against a hemlock with trembling legs. Then she slid down and landed on her behind on the ice. “I…just felt something. It made me tingle everywhere at once. Sort of like…But different. Wow.”
Rachel was still transfixed with joy. “You just…said such beautiful things!”
A familiar voice spoke over her black bracelet, but it was not a voice that had spoken over it before. It was, however, a voice that she had feared she might never hear again. Her heart leapt with enraptured joy.
“Hello, Rachel Griffin. I wish to come speak with you and your sister. I have decided to warn you of my coming. I see a path in which my coming helps you and your sister become closer. But the path has a second branch, in which my coming scares her, and it disrupts your life further. I’d like to speak to her, though, so could you listen to my request?”
“Of course, Jariel,” Rachel breathed softly. “Anything.”
“When I appear, do not leave your sister’s side and run to where I am. If you do, there is a high likelihood of that ending badly. If you stay by her side, I see a much greater chance of a good resolution. Do you understand?”
“Yes. I will stay with Laurel.” Rachel blushed with embarrassment at the idea that he thought she would just run to him with no provocation.
“I will be there soon. Do not be afraid. She cannot harm me with her magic.”
Rachel glanced over at her sister, who was still in a happy daze. Laurel sat on the ice, lost in thought. Suddenly, her sister’s eyes focused on something behind Rachel’s back. Leaping forward and sliding dangerously, Laurel grabbed Rachel, thrusting her little sister behind her. Laurel shoved her wrist forward and shook it. The charm bracelet under her coat sleeve rattled, causing dangling charms to chime. A shield-shaped shimmer appeared in the air in front of them. Laurel grabbed the silver wand that hung at Rachel’s side and pointed it.
Rachel opened her mouth and closed it, wondering if Laurel even knew how to use the wand. She hoped her sister would not accidentally fire off the last charge of Eternal Flame.
“Monster! Stay away from my sister!” cried Laurel.
Rachel, pressed against her sister’s back, heard the beat of the Raven’s wings. The connection over the bracelet was still open, but, instead of words, she was receiving intuitions and empathic feelings. She felt the Raven’s reaction to her sister: slightly…amused? But there was also acceptance or approval, as if Laurel’s desire to defend Rachel pleased him.
Rachel hugged Laurel tightly, murmuring into her back. “It’s okay. He’s my friend. He protects me.”
Laurel kept their grandmother’s wand pointed in front of her. Her arm was visibly shaking. Rachel could feel her sister’s whole body trembling. Through her sister’s back, Rachel heard Laurel’s heart thundering in her chest.
“Please, don’t hurt her,” whispered Laurel. “Please?”
“I shall not harm her,” came the Raven’s hoarse croak. “I shall not harm you. I am here but to speak for a time.”
Peeking under her sister’s arm, Rachel caught a glimpse of a great black bird with his blood red eyes. Then, he changed into an inhumanly beautiful man with black wings and a halo of light over his head. For the briefest of moments, Rachel feared that Laurel was suffering a heart attack, because the thundering in her sister’s chest had ceased completely. But then, her heartbeat resumed more steadily.
“So pretty…” Laurel stared at the shining halo, mesmerized.
The Raven smiled and reached up. At his touch, the light turned into a coronet of gold. Kneeling before the sisters, he held it out toward Laurel, who looked at Rachel questioningly.
Rachel smiled and nodded. Taking her sister’s hand, she gently pushed it toward the halo. Laurel touched it, making a soft, inarticulate noise. A shiver ran through her entire body. Then the tension drained from her. She sighed and spoke in a low, almost reverent tone.
“It’s amazing…it feels like…what just happened. Sort of.” Smiling at Rachel, Laurel giggled, “It also reminds me of you, silly.”
Jariel handed Laurel the halo. She took it in her hands and sank down to kneel on the ice, staring at it and smiling. Laurel held the gold hoop out toward Rachel, who knelt awkwardly beside her older sister, her skates only half on. She laid her palm on the golden coronet.
It felt like…diligence.
Strange sensations poured through Rachel, like that moment of waking from a dream. They reminded her of the light that had come out of Laurel’s eyes. Holding the halo, she felt a spike of sheer joy so sharp that it was like being sliced in two. For a split second, she felt very different from her normal self, as if all the universe were at her fingertips.
Memories of happy times with Laurel tumbled through her mind: playing house inside a clump of gorse bushes on the moors; shrieking with terror and clinging to her sister with all her strength, as they galloped across the lavender fields on the back of Laurel’s black Arabian, Wild Child; swimming in the lake, holding their noses as they jumped off the raft; taking gymnastics together at the Gryphon-on-Dart Assembly Hall; sitting in the audience and clapping, as Laurel performed those same gymnastic moves on the back of Wild Child during a vaulting competition; at Hot Springs Beach in Thulhavn, running across the black sands that separated the oceans in Greenland from steaming waters of the hot springs.
The “light” from the halo, she realized, was “shining” on different memory chains, bringing them to mind. Without actually altering them, it downplayed any negative part of each memory, emphasizing the good. The Raven knelt beside them. Rachel glanced from him to Laurel, who sat smiling with her hand on the halo, her eyes distant.
Leaning toward him, Rachel whispered, “Can I ask questions in front of her?”
“My Father has spoken to you through her,” answered Jariel. “She is sacred. Speak in front of her, if you wish. He would not choose a vessel that was impure. Nor would he speak to someone who was not destined for greatness. Not so directly, at least…”
Rachel looked at her sister with awe. Then, she asked the qu
estion that had been weighing upon her. “Does the Master of the World have the power or authority to order you to take away my Elf Rune and change my memories for real?”
“No,” the Raven replied. “He believes he does, but he does not. I will not go out of my way to let him know where his control over me ends. Certain things are best left unsaid.”
So great was her relief that Rachel’s body sagged, as if the strings holding her upright had been cut. And yet, her anger at the Master of the World grew. How beastly of him to put Jariel in such a position.
Laurel, who was still looking at the halo, spoke absently, “Someone who stays silent, so other people jump to conclusions. I wonder who that reminds me of…”
She giggled. Rachel smirked slightly, acknowledging the truth of the comment. It pleased her immensely that her sister saw a similarity between herself and Jariel.
“About my new memories,” said Rachel. “They don’t agree with my friends’. If I use them, my friends will think I’ve gone crazy, and they’ll haul me in front of the Agents again. And that is bound to go badly. If I stick with my real memories…what do I do if the princess goes home and tells her father something I’ve said that shows that I still have them?”
The Raven replied, “The Master and the princess’s father do not see eye to eye on many things. I will speak to him. He does not approve of the kind of tricks used on you, unsuccessfully, or on your father. I think he will agree to let me follow my own judgment.”
Laurel let go of the golden circlet, “Okay! Now I want to go see my Charlie. Thank you, Mr. Scary Tengu, for watching out for my sister and not killing me. I like not being killed.”
The Raven said, “I am not a tengu.”
She shrugged. “Whichever. I appreciate that you are not the thing I thought you were.”
“I did nothing actively to be who I…”
Laurel interrupted him. “Oh, shut up! Wow, you are very disagreeable. That’s where Rachel gets it! Bad influence! Bad tengu!”
She shook her finger at him. Jariel looked at Rachel, as if not sure what to say. Laurel got up and threw her arms around him. Even on one knee, he was as tall as she was. He looked resigned to his fate. Delighted, Rachel rushed forward and hugged him, too.
The Awful Truth About Forgetting (Books of Unexpected Enlightenment Book 4) Page 36