The Prince of Bavaria blinked twice. “That is unexpected.”
Rachel waited, peering at him carefully, but Vladimir merely looked grim. She let out her pent-up breath. What a relief! Finally, there was someone to whom she could speak candidly—without reducing him to an inmate at Bedlam!
That was unkind, she noted with chagrin, one of the first such thoughts she had ever had toward her boyfriend. Well, other than the part where she had been enraged at him, but she had already forgiven Gaius for that, for the most part. She could not help wishing, however, that Gaius had been the strong one, the one who took the news well. She did not like being the stronger of the two of them. It did not feel right.
“I do not want to declare outright war upon this Romanov yet,” stated Vladimir, his arms still crossed. “I need to find out more about him first. It is unfortunate the princess dislikes me so, but knowing he exists helps a great deal. Now we must figure out how to investigate further, without letting him know that we have learned of his existence.”
Rachel felt so grateful to have an ally, someone else willing to take up this fight, that she found herself at a loss for words. They skated back toward the dancing lights in silence. Ahead, the skating party was beginning to break up, due to the failing light. Students were starting to leave the ice in search of their boots.
“Gaius was worried about me telling you even this much,” Rachel said finally. “He’s afraid of you losing your memory. He says we need you. I think he’s right. But the Rav…the Guardian said it would be okay if I told you. And I didn’t want you accidentally angering the Romanov princess again, without knowing the risks.”
“I thank you for telling me,” Dread replied. “I…would rather know.”
Rachel smiled shyly. His calm, no-nonsense approach to the dangers she described was so much more than she had hoped for. She suddenly felt lighthearted, so lighthearted that she was not sure her feet were touching the ice.
“I am going to work on how to help Father, so he can get better,” Rachel spoke firmly. “So I can convince him of what an excellent son-in-law you’ll be.”
“I would appreciate that,” he replied sincerely.
She gazed up at him, as he loomed above her, blue sparkles floating about his head. He gazed back at her solemnly. Standing so, she could almost hear the snap of yet another of the imaginary supports keeping her from falling into the ocean of love. She felt so close to him when they spoke together like this, as if they could calmly and rationally discuss any topic. They might actually have suited rather well as husband and wife, she thought wistfully. It would have been like marrying a young version of her grandfather.
“I’d marry you myself,” the words were out before she realized she was speaking, “if we didn’t both prefer someone else.”
“Were you older, I might have met you first,” he replied. “At this point, I would prefer not having to duel Valiant again.”
A shiver of pleasure ran through Rachel. That was not what she had expected him to say. Overcome with girlish delight, she impetuously tugged on the prince’s coat sleeve. When he leaned down, she balanced on her toe-rakes and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
Vlad smiled. It made him looked quite handsome, even more so than he ordinarily did. Leaning forward, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her from the ice. He pulled her against his chest and held her tightly. Rachel gratefully hugged him back. His body was both unyielding and unexpectedly warm.
“Do not let people know I am hugging anyone,” he whispered in her ear. “If they find out, I’ll have to give them out to everyone.”
“Most certainly. That would ruin your reputation.” Rachel managed a cool tone despite the waves of giddiness that assailed her. She pictured the Knight of Walpurgis’ meetings, if all the girls who fancied the prince thought he was fair game for hugging. A brief giggle escaped her lips. She whispered, “It will be our secret.”
Von Dread balanced her carefully on her skates again. Then, he bent down and kissed her on the cheek, just beside her ear. A most glorious sensation blossomed through her body, tingling from the top of her scalp down to her toes. It was a very grown-up feeling, but, oddly, it felt right—not awkward and too mature, as when Gaius kissed her in the same spot.
The same spot? It could not be an accident. This by-the-ear-kissing must be a trick that boys knew about, at least these two boys, who were friends. Vlad had kissed her there quite deliberately, which meant: he must have wanted her to feel this way.
Snap. The last teetering restraints suspending her above the vast ocean of the heart broke and she fell…in…love.
“I love you!” she blurted out. Before he could reply, she spun and skated off, calling over her shoulder, “Bye!”
Chapter Thirty-Five:
Sparks in the Dark
Crack!
Flash!
Kaboom!
It took Rachel a moment to realize that the clamor came from real lightning flashing across the dark twilight sky and not from the chaotic state of her thoughts. In the brilliant illumination, tiny flakes drifted amidst the twinklings of the blue and violet wisps. It had begun to snow. It was strange to have lightning and snowflakes. Thundersnow was a rare occurrence.
Another lightning bolt jagged across the sky, so low it seemed to clip one of the taller trees as it continued to race by, which was, of course, impossible.
In a burst of orange flame, the top branches of that tall hemlock ignited. Rachel blinked in confusion. Lightning could strike a tree, but it could not clip it as it flashed past. Another lightning bolt careened madly around the sky, striking three trees, two of which blossomed into balls of orange flame.
Lightning imps!
High in the sky, a trumpet sounded. A dark child-like shape, with a horn, white cap, and doublet and hose, flew by overhead.
The Heer of Dunderberg had crossed the warding wall!
Rachel shoved aside her confusion over the state of her heart and pulled from her pocket the oak key amulet that Sigfried had made for her. She slipped it around her neck. Shouts rang out and a few screams, but they sounded more startled than afraid. By now, all the students had made anti-lightning amulets. Some skaters hurried away from the flaming trees, but upperclassmen were already dousing the fires—an easy task for a canticler of any skill.
Ahead, proctors were herding the students into the central area of ice lit by the wisp sculptures. Familiars barked, screeched, or howled with excitement. Through the late twilight and the falling snow, Rachel spotted Ivan, Marta Fisher, Yolanda Debussy, and Agravaine Stormhenge, four of the five students who were members of the secret organization called the Brotherhood of the White Hart. They moved about briskly, helping the proctors by conjuring boots or dousing fires. She did not see their fifth member, John Darling.
A fountain of golden sparks ignited in the darkness, accompanied by rousing music and a chorus of “Ahh!” from gathered students. Rachel recognized the tune the Ginger Snaps were playing, a type of protective enchantment called a Sacred Ring. The spell formed a ring of bright golden sparkles that no harmful entity or power could cross. Rachel had never seen a Sacred Ring cast by such a large group of musicians. She was impressed by the size of their twinkling circle; it had a diameter of well over a hundred feet. As John Darling was a member of the Ginger Snaps, that accounted for the fifth White Hart.
“Everyone?” William’s voice came calmly over the black bracelet. “Vlad? A spruce troll is approaching the skating area.”
A spruce troll? Then it was not just the Heer and his minions. The wards had been breached. Roanoke was under attack!
Dread’s voice rang out over the bracelet, cool and in command. “Spread out. Head north. The trouble seems to be coming from that direction. Be on your guard. There may be worse things than spruce trolls heading our way.”
“The ogre is coming, too.” Rachel announced over the bracelet. She was pleased with how even her voice sounded. It hardly shook at all. “And the woodwose an
d more.”
“That is ill news,” replied Dread. “We must see that the ogre does not make another kill. Evans, Dare, Westenra: Look for students who may be in danger. Locke, Valiant, Coils: The breach in the wards must be located immediately. And, everyone, avoid the proctors. Their duty to protect students will compel them to impede our progress. Go.”
“Aye, aye, boss,” drawled Gaius cheerfully.
Rachel was relieved when her heart did its normal little dance at the sound of her boyfriend’s voice. Whatever treacherous affections she might feel towards Vladimir, Gaius definitely still came first.
Vladimir had not been addressing her, but Rachel longed to follow his instructions. Despite her trepidations about the wild fey being on the move, she, too, wanted to help make sure everyone was safe. She skated well and did not lose her head when in danger. That made her just the sort of person who could be helpful in an emergency. And it would make her feel closer to Vlad and Gaius if she could act as one of their exclusive group.
Alas, she was not one of their group. Instead, she was a freshman who had promised herself that she would be more careful—now that she knew how worried her father was for her. Reluctantly heading for her boots, Rachel cast one last glance back into the beckoning darkness.
“Help!”
Instantly, she became motionless as a fawn, listening. Had she heard a cry? Was it her imagination? Or a fey creature seeking to trick her?
“Somebody! Help me!” The voice sounded faint but definite.
Rachel cupped her hands around her mouth. “Hallo?”
“Rachel, is that you?” cried a familiar, frightened voice. “It’s me! Astrid!”
Rachel peered into the blackness and then glanced toward the bright, gold-white wisp lanterns. Technically, she should go fetch a proctor, rather than skate off into the fey-filled night like—well, like Gaius and his friends. But, there were very few proctors and tutors in proportion to the number of students, and it would take time to go find someone and come back, time Astrid would spend alone in the dark. If that was Astrid.
She gazed in the direction of the cry, but the night was now totally black. She could make out nothing, except a few stray lilac wisps, hovering like spots before her eyes. Luckily, however, she had skated through this area earlier in the evening. Relying on the map provided by her memory, she pushed off and began to adroitly avoid the stumps and fallen logs that had been visible earlier.
“Are you all right?” Rachel called, skirting to the left to avoid a sapling. She shot forward and then dragged her toe-rake, gliding to stop before a prone figure she could barely make out in the dark.
“I’m all right. Except for my pride. I think it may be a little crumpled. Or maybe that’s my nose.” Astrid’s gentle voice was closer now. She sounded frightened but plucky. “I fell.”
“I fell, too.” Rachel pressed her hand against her chest, above her disloyal heart. She glanced, as she did so, back toward where she had skated with Vladimir. She did not bother explaining to her roommate that she meant a different kind of fall.
Another lightning bolt cut across the sky, illuminating the ice. Astrid shrieked.
In its momentary flash, Rachel saw her roommate splayed on her stomach, a trickle of blood running from her nose. Snowflakes dusted her back and hat. Around the fallen girl’s neck was the purple, tasseled scarf Rachel had given her as a Yule gift. Rachel smiled, touched.
Then, it was dark again.
This was the real Astrid. No fey out to trick her would have added the purple scarf.
The night seemed even blacker and colder after the brightness of the lightning. Rachel drew her coat closer around her and donned her furry mittens and her snowman hat. Then she knelt down beside her roommate.
Astrid’s voice trembled with fear. “I-I don’t h-have…”
“Shh. All is well.” Rachel murmured. “It’s going to be okay.”
“I-I didn’t b-bring my lightning c-charm,.” Astrid’s voice was still shaking—whether from fear or the cold, Rachel did not know.
Bracing herself against a trunk, Rachel grabbed Astrid’s outstretched hand. Her roommate gamely began trying to regain her feet. Astrid’s skates slid several times. It did not help that Astrid was one of the taller girls in the freshman class, significantly taller than Rachel. Once she nearly tumbled over Rachel’s shoulder, but the two girls refused to give up. Finally, Astrid stood shakily on her skates, holding tightly to a slender hemlock sapling.
Another flash of lightning. Astrid screamed again.
“You must think me such a ninny,” she apologized shyly, ducking her head as she clung to the evergreen. “I-I’ve always been nervous during thunderstorms. My uncle d-died by being struck by lightning.”
“Oh! I’m sorry!” Rachel cried. “Were you there when it happened?”
“No, it was b-before I was born. But I have been told about it my whole life.”
“Oh. I guess that might make it scarier.”
“Yes. I think it does.”
“Here!” Bending away in the dark, Rachel pulled her own oak key from her neck and slipped it into Astrid’s hand. “Wear this one.”
“Oh! You brought an extra one!” The tall, slender girl sounded so relieved. “How smart!”
“Siggy made me that one,” Rachel replied.
She did not add that she had not thought to bring the one she made herself in class, so she was now without protection from the lightning.
Together, the girls started their trek back through the ice-covered forest. Astrid was a poor skater. She had only worn skates twice before, she explained, while visiting Rockefeller Center Skating Rink with her family. It did not help that as soon as they started moving, she gave a little cry and lifted her left foot.
“I…seem to have hurt my ankle.”
“Sprains are easy to heal with enchantment,” Rachel replied cheerily, hiding her dismay. She wished she knew some healing enchantment and wondered if she should use her bracelet to call for Jenny. “If we can get you to the others, I’m sure someone can have you on both feet in no time!”
“I-if I can get t-there.” Astrid’s teeth chattered.
“I’ve got a jolly idea! I’ll pull you,” exclaimed Rachel. “We’ve played this game at home loads of times. Stand behind me and put your hands on my shoulders.”
Rachel stood with her back to Astrid, who grasped Rachel’s shoulders with both hands. The difference in their heights made this more difficult, but Rachel was able to pull the taller girl. Astrid held one foot gingerly in the air, gliding on her other blade, as Rachel drew her slowly forward.
They moved through the blackness. Rachel was glad that she remembered the way, because the reflections in the ice of the golden-white lanterns and the sparkling sacred ring made their exact location confusing to the eye. Flashes of lightning gave glimpses of the landscape ahead. Occasionally, tall beams of white light, stretching from the earth to the sky, lit up the night as well. Someone was jumping—probably Dread.
Sure enough, in the next flash of lightning, Rachel caught a glimpse of him, falling with the snow, as he blasted the Heer of Dunderberg with Eternal Flame from his wand. When Vlad approached the ground, he turned into a tall beam of light and reappeared high in the sky, well above the storm goblin, and the whole thing happened again.
Rachel’s heart skipped a beat every time she saw him falling.
She drew her eyes away from Dread’s battle and brushed snow from her face. A layer of fine white powder was forming across the ice. The two girls glided silently through the darkness. Their breath formed misty puffs. Behind her, Rachel could hear the roar of the waterfall growing fainter. Astrid stumbled, scratching her face against low-hanging branches. Rachel did her best to avoid such branches, but she had not glanced high enough, earlier in the afternoon, to recall what was there at Astrid’s level.
“Ouch!” cried Astrid. “Something hit me!”
“Ow!” A sharp pain went through Rachel’s head, like having
a hair plucked. It smarted. Tears stung her eyes.
“Something just stung my cheek!” cried Astrid. “Oh! And my arm.”
Ouch!
Sharp pain struck Rachel’s ear. She clapped her hand to the spot, accidentally knocking away something that buzzed like a dragonfly.
“Aroint you, giantesses! This is our forest now!” came a high, sweet voice in the vicinity of Rachel’s ear.
“Pixies!” Rachel declared fiercely, moving closer to Astrid, who grabbed her shoulders so tightly that it hurt.
“Yes, Sir Thistlewhip!” cried another even higher voice. “For fair is foul, and fowl is fare. And we would have royal fare tonight! Let us take these giantesses captive and force them to cook us a feast.”
Other tiny voices, high and sweet, called out from the darkness nearby.
“They can bake us honeysuckle pie and roast nightwings, sweet cakes of spiderweb and a thousand lovely delicacies!”
“Let us make the giantesses our slaves!”
“Slaves, Sir Rosethorn? Poppycock and dimwhittle! Let us pluck their heads till they are bald, and use their purloined locks to fleece our beds! We shall sleep like princes snuggled amidst locks such as these!”
“That hair’s mine!” objected Rachel, as a second lock was yanked from her head.
Astrid tugged her hat closer over her ears. She murmured wryly. “I’m not sure they would want my hair. It seems to have a mind of its own. I don’t think it would be good for pixie beds—unless they want it for bedsprings.”
Rachel smiled but then cried out again, as something jabbed her in the back. She swatted at the darkness. Her hand encountered nothing.
“Move hence, giantesses!”
The sharp pain prodded her again. She jumped, nearly losing her balance. Astrid cried out in pain, whether from a thorn or because she had put weight on bad foot, Rachel could not tell.
“We can make them dance for the redcaps, who will give us, in return, some of their stormy, sleep-causing rum!”
The Awful Truth About Forgetting (Books of Unexpected Enlightenment Book 4) Page 40