Sighing, she rested her forehead on the cool counter. This was going to be like the opening cantrip all over again. If she could have done that one, she would have been spared a painful trip through a closed window. She still had not managed to get that one to work.
Now, she could not get the Word of Bridging to work, either. Finally, she had to ask Siggy to do it for her. Lucky the Dragon demanded she should pay a small but reasonable fee. Siggy aimed a kick at his familiar, saying, “Friends ride free. It is a law of nature.”
When they had dissolved both sugar cubes, Rachel showed her finished concoction to Mr. Fisher. He sniffed it, cooled it with his ice bar, and offered it to her. Taking a deep breath, she drank. It tasted sweet, like dissolved sugar, but the tingle as it passed over her tongue were disturbingly reminiscent of chameleons and tree frogs.
Her hands flickered and changed to reveal her robe and then, after her robe changed as well, to reveal the lab station behind her. Rachel gasped with delight.
“Very good, Miss Griffin. Mr. Smith. Excellently done. Whichever of you conveyed the essences did a particularly splendid job. Look how clear the pattern of the floor tiles is!”
Rachel beamed at him, not that he could tell her smile from the windowpanes. She did not explain that she had not been able to complete the process. To her relief, she was not the only student to have that problem. On some teams, neither member could perform the sorcery to convey the essences.
“Okay,” Siggy whispered as soon as he left, “it’s now or never!”
“Wait…you shouldn’t—” the princess began, and Joy squawked, horrified.
But it was too late. Sigfried had swallowed the second elixir.
He disappeared entirely.
Chapter Twenty-Four:
Unrecognized Murder Weapons
“Where did he go?” Rachel glanced left and right.
The princess indicated with a gesture of her head. “He is right there, I believe.” She squinted. “Yes, he is.” With a smile that brightened the room, she added, “I must give credit where credit is due. The herb the elven woman gave us is quite effective! Perhaps, I was wrong to worry. He has not become an eucalyptusvore after all.”
Occasionally, books moved, ingredients switched places, or robes suddenly twitched. But Rachel could not see Sigfried. Recalling the previous minute or so did not show her who had committed the act. Whatever hid Sigfried from her sight was not affecting her memory.
The princess could see him. Joy and Wulfgang Starkadder—the broody Transylvanian prince who could turn into a wolf—could tell something was there, though they could not make him out as well as Nastasia could. Rachel watched as Wulfgang’s eyes narrowed. He reached out, but Sigfried must have moved, for he caught nothing.
No one else in the class seemed to notice Siggy at all.
“Where is he now?” Rachel asked a few minutes later.
“Front of the room,” the princess squinted and then pointed. “Beside the tutor’s seat.”
Mr. Fisher’s glasses suddenly floated off his face.
“I say! What?” Mr. Fisher lunged at the floating glasses, which were beginning to disappear as well. A moment later, they dropped into the science tutor’s outstretched hand.
“Who did that?” Mr. Fisher peered around the classroom. “I don’t see anyone using a cantrip. Who snitched one of the lifting talismans? Fess up! For your information, I just bought these glasses. My last pair was damaged on Friday. I would prefer not to lose another pair.”
No one spoke.
Mr. Fisher sighed. He rubbed his eyes and put his glasses back on. “That’s it for this period. Enjoy looking like the wall behind you. It should wear off within the hour.”
Around the classroom, students, each the color of the blackboard or the sky beyond the window, bragged of the clever uses to which they planned to put their chameleon elixirs.
Joy had her hands pressed against her mouth. “I can’t believe Siggy did that. He’s so cute, but he’s crazy! You should have seen him, Rachel; he was grinning like an imp! Or, at least I think he was. He was kind of hard to see.”
The princess frowned disapprovingly. “I do not approve of mocking our instructors.”
“I wonder why Nastasia and I can see through it, and you can’t,” mused Joy.
“It must have to do with whatever makes the four of you such smashing sorcerers,” Rachel replied. “Whatever the elixir does, it’s not affecting our memory. I guess it bends light.”
“What makes you say that?” asked the princess.
“I can see through obscurations by remembering back,” Rachel said, keeping her voice low. “I use the same trick to see the Raven.”
“You can see things with your memory that you can’t see with your eyes?” Nastasia asked, her voice rising in surprise. “You can see the Raven?”
Rachel nodded, cringing inwardly at the volume of the princess’s voice. It made her nervous to have anyone speak openly of her secret gift.
The princess’s daylight-rivaling smile faded. Frowning petulantly, she gathered her tools to put them away. Taken aback, Rachel lowered her gaze. It was almost as if Nastasia were annoyed that Rachel could do something she could not—which seemed ridiculous from someone who had so many desirable talents. After all, the princess could currently see what Siggy was doing; while Sigfried could stab Rachel in the throat with his knife, and she would never see him coming. Why would her friend begrudge Rachel being able to do something useful, too?
As Rachel cleaned up, her spirits ebbed. The joy had been sucked out of the afternoon. Gazing at her hands, which looked like the lab station counter and the sink, she felt dishonest. It was as if her chameleon colors were a lie, a claim to powers she did not possess.
Some heroine she would make. The powerful sorcerers in her class—Sigfried, Nastasia, Wulfgang Starkadder and Joy—would all be out saving people, while she would still be struggling. Her heroic dreams spiraled towards a fiery crash. She wondered if she was doomed to become a female Walter Mitty, dreaming of great things she could never accomplish.
“Miss Griffin?” called Mr. Fisher.
“Yes, sir?” Rachel ran to where the blackboard-colored tutor stood in front of the room.
“Thank you,” her science tutor said simply, “for saving my life.”
Rachel bowed in the manner of her Korean grandfather. “Oh, Sir. You are welcome.”
As she walked away, a big smile slowly bloomed across her face.
She had saved someone, hadn’t she?
• • •
Rachel walked back to her dorm, breathing deeply of the crisp autumn air. Golden leaves gilded the paper birches surrounding Dare Hall, and the maples in front of Spenser Hall glowed a brilliant, fiery red. As she walked, she replayed in her mind how she had saved Mr. Fisher—crashing through the window, spinning out of control, broken glass flying around her in a jagged spray. She remembered knocking into his attacker, leaning over her, taking her whip.
Rachel stopped short and frowned. What had she done with that whip? She remembered putting it in her pocket. Where had it gone after that?
• • •
“Psst, Rachel!” Salome waved her over fifteen minutes later, as Rachel hurried across the commons on her way from Dare Hall to the proctors’ office.
Salome was sitting on a bench beside Valerie Hunt. On the grass beside them, Zoë, Joy, Siggy, and his roommate Ian sat watching the royal Transylvanian flying clipper ship—with its triple masts and massive sails extending both upward and sideways like wings—land on the southern portion of the commons.
“I got the dirt!” Salome’s huge, luminous eyes danced.
“The dirt on…oh!” Eagerly, Rachel rushed over. “What did you learn? I’ve had the hardest time getting together with him this week. He’s still working on his wand.”
Salome moved toward Valerie and patted the bench beside her. Rachel sat down. Tucked under one arm, she carried the robe she had been wearing last Friday. She
had found it behind her bed, where Mistletoe had dragged it—perhaps, because blood had dripped off the whip and drenched the fabric. Now it stank of old blood. Rachel held it away from her body to avoid the horrid, sickly-sweet odor.
“Peeww! That smells bad!” Salome pinched her nose. “So. I asked around. Everyone in Drake Hall loves our Mr. Valiant. He’s considered an all-around great guy. Not like his bully of a boss, Dread the Dreadful, before whom everyone scurries in fear. But not me. I’m not scurrying for him!
“But back to Gaius,” Salome continued. “General opinion: very good. Girlfriends? A bit more complicated. Some people think he’s dated Tessa Dauntless. But I don’t think so. I think she just has the hots for him. Most of the kids in Drake don’t believe he is dating you to begin with. But the ones that do believe it think that Tess will steal him from you in a matter of days.”
“Um…nice of them,” murmured Rachel, blinking.
Salome tossed her tassel out of her eyes. “Anyway, everyone thought Gaius was dating Colleen MacDannan their sophomore and junior year, but there was no hard evidence of it and both denied it. So, I broke out the big guns. I asked my most inside connections, my brothers.
“Carl told me Gaius and Colleen were quite the item those two years. On the other hand, my older brother, Devon—who was actually here both of those two years—said they were just friends and not dating at all. Which goes to show that even the insiders are clueless. Sorry.”
Ian MacDannan had been watching people embarking and disembarking from the huge three-masted flying clipper, while lying splayed across the grass. Now, he looked up at Rachel. “Is it true you’re dating Gaius Valiant?”
Rachel nodded.
Ian blinked. Parts of his body were back to normal. Other parts were still lawn green. Where his shoulder should have been, Rachel could see Lucky dive-bombing the row boats on the reflecting lake. “Didn’t he, like, embarrass your brother in front of an entire class two years ago? My brother Liam says Valiant pantsed Peter during a duel.”
“He what?” Joy looked up from where she sat reading a James Darling, Agent comic.
“Me brothers told me all about it.” Ian sat up excitedly and slipping into his Irish brogue. “Gaius Valiant blew Peter Griffin’s robes over his head first. Then, while Peter was flailing, trying to get them off his head, Valiant yanked his pants down to his ankles.”
A strange feeling seized Rachel. She could hear her friends talking, like a soft buzz, but their voices were so much softer than the pounding in her ears.
“You mean…the boy who humiliated Peter and blackened his eye that other time? That was Gaius? Gaius is my brother’s rival? But…” she blurted out, feeling cold and clammy, “I vowed to hate that boy for life!”
“Well…that’s going to be hard, if you’re dating him,” said Joy.
“Ooo. This is so exciting!” Salome bounced up and down on the bench. Siggy and Ian stared at her in fascination. Siggy then turned his head away, scowling. “What shall you do?”
“I…don’t know,” murmured Rachel. “I hadn’t prepared for this possibility.”
She sat very still, reeling. No wonder Gaius had not been willing to approach Peter about the new geas. No wonder Peter thought Gaius was trying to date her just to upset him.
Was he?
No. She did not believe that. He might come hang out with her in the hallway to fool her, but he would not have dueled Von Dread just to irk Peter. Still, she wished she had known before she agreed to be his girlfriend.
Or, better yet, before she fell in love with him.
Salome pinched her nose again. “Why are you carrying around such a stinky robe?”
“Oh!” Rachel shelved the horrible topic of Gaius and Peter. She would deal with that later. She leaned across Salome to address Siggy’s girlfriend. “Valerie, you know about this stuff. I still have the whip I took from the possessed girl who attacked Mr. Fisher. What should I do with it? She hasn’t come back to school.”
“Well, I guess you could…” Valerie had been messing with her camera. Now she sat up straight, her whole body taut. “That’s evidence. It should be turned over to the police!”
“Um, okay.” Rachel looked around. Her favorite proctor, Mr. Fuentes, was leaning against a lamp post, keeping an eye on the people boarding and leaving the flying clipper ship. She rose, crossed the intervening lawns, and approached him. “Mr. Fuentes?”
Upon seeing her, the young man flashed his big, good-natured grin. “What can I do for you, Miss Griffin? No more pranks being played on you, I hope.”
“No. Thank you.” She gestured toward the clipper ship. “What is happening?”
He shrugged. “Some of the Starkadder princelings are coming or going. I’m not exactly sure. Probably something to do with Remus and Fenris getting expelled.”
“Um. I have this whip, and I don’t know what to do with it.” She pulled part of the whip from the pocket of the robe.
“Whip?” He squatted down to be closer to her height. Then he flinched and held his hand in front of his nose. “Ugh. That smells awful.”
“It’s what that girl used to hurt Mr. Fisher and…” she swallowed, “Enoch Smithwyck.”
All the humor left Mr. Fuentes face. “Where did you find this?”
“I…didn’t find it anywhere. I took it from the girl, after I knocked her over.”
“You mean…you took it last Friday?”
Rachel nodded solemnly.
“Why did you wait until now to bring it to me?”
“I…don’t know. I didn’t think of it.”
“Didn’t think of it?” He looked agitated. “What kept you from turning it in?”
Rachel blinked. “Um.…nothing…I…just didn’t…”
“Did anyone tell you not to give it to me?”
“N-no.”
“Did something else keep you from turning it in?” he insisted.
“N-no. I…just…” she stammered, thoroughly flustered.
“But then, you wouldn’t remember, would you? Scott, Stone!” Fuentes called to two of the other proctors. He put his hand on Rachel’s shoulder. When the other two came over, he gently shoved Rachel toward them. “Bring her to the Watch Tower. Something fishy here. I think she may be geased. I’m going down to the glass room to call New York and fetch Darling and MacDannan.”
“What…no! Please, don’t leave me! Send one of them!” Rachel cried, frightened at being turned over to strangers. Mr. Fuentes had pulled a green Flycycle out of a small wallet, however, and was already flying toward the lily pond and the path off campus.
• • •
Once again, Rachel hovered in the disenchanting chamber, amidst tiny golden sparks. Most of them blew about her in a cool breeze, but a few burned hot, causing her to twitch. Her square cap flew off and floated in the air. Her dark hair spread out around her, catching the little glittering stars. Scarlett MacDannan played her bagpipes; her rat crouched on her head. James Darling leaned against the stone wall, Pyewacket sitting regally on the stone bench beside him.
The song ended. Rachel came slowly down and landed on her feet.
She shook her now unruly hair, freeing a few sparkles still trapped there. Then, she retrieved her mortarboard and placed it back on her head. Once she was properly attired, she presented herself before the Agents. She could not quite meet Scarlett MacDannan’s gaze, however, as her mind kept taunting her with the memory of that other Mrs. MacDannan, the one she had seen in the dreamland with Zoë.
Agent Darling leaned on his fulgurator’s staff and smiled at her. “Do you remember anything now that you did not remember before you came here?”
“N-no. Nothing.”
“Why didn’t you turn in the whip earlier?” asked Agent MacDannan.
“I didn’t know I was supposed to,” replied Rachel, brushing stray locks from her face.
The bushy-haired Agent said tartly, “You didn’t know murder weapons were considered evidence?”
“I-I
knew that. But it wasn’t a murder weapon when I put it in my pocket. Enoch hadn’t died yet.”
“Why didn’t you turn it in when you found out?”
“A lot happened since then. I didn’t think about the whip.”
“A lot happened?” Agent MacDannan pressed. “What else has happened since we last spoke that we should be aware of?”
The meeting with the Raven and the Elf rushed into the foreground of her thoughts. Rachel opened her mouth, compelled to blurt out every thought.
Then she paused.
Something intriguing was happening inside her head.
The words Agent MacDannan had spoken reverberated in her mind. They formed paths that made her remember the truth. Ordinarily, she would have had no choice but to blurt out the answer, because that would have been all she remembered.
That was how the Spell of True Recitation worked.
Only this time, Rachel was aware of the influence attempting to force her to remember nothing but the truth—aware but not compelled. Thanks to the Elf’s Rune, nothing could disturb her memory, even her memory of imaginary things.
She was free to lie.
Rachel did not answer the question. The two Agents exchanged looks, surprised.
“Did you hear me?” Agent MacDannan asked.
Again, Rachel did not answer.
Agent MacDannan glanced at her partner, alarmed. “How is she doing that?”
“I don’t know. I…” Then James Darling grinned. He squatted down so his face was on level with Rachel’s. “Miss Griffin, is this about a boy?”
Rachel nodded very rapidly.
He stood up again. “Obviously, Scarlett, this was a false alarm.”
“But she didn’t answer. She shouldn’t have been able to do that!”
“I suspect it was the wording of your question,” said Agent Darling. “She wasn’t sure if boy trouble was something we needed to know or not. Right, Rachel?”
Rachel nodded again.
Agent MacDannan looked skeptical. “In that case, I will ask her more specifically…”
The Raven, The Elf, and Rachel (A Book of Unexpected Enlightenment 2) Page 29