Her uncle.
“Mrs. Heelis,” it took her two tries to speak audibly, “my grandfather’s son, Lord Falconridge—the original one, before my father and, now, Peter. Do you recall his given name?”
The art tutor tipped her head back in thought. “Myrddin. His name was Myrddin.”
Rachel smiled very slightly: Blaise, Ambrose, Emrys, and Myrddin. Her Arthurian-loving brother Peter had always regretted that their parents had broken with the family tradition and failed to name their son after one of the magicians associated with the Court of King Arthur.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “Um, would you have any books on drawing?”
• • •
Rachel attended math, ate lunch, and went to music. Or rather her body went obediently to those locations. Her thoughts were entirely elsewhere; so much so that, later, she was not able use her perfect recall to remember what the tutors had said. She had not even heard their voices.
Six family members, dead. Six relatives she had never had the chance to meet killed by Azrael. Bismarck’s sorcerers had feared Blaise Griffin more than any other sorcerer in England. They had summoned a fiend from the underworld to dispatch him.
The Griffin family had been the demon’s first target.
No wonder her grandfather had become so grim and imperious. What had he been like in his youth, before this tragedy? Had he been kinder? More like Father? Would Father become grimmer and colder, if she, her siblings, and her mother were killed before his eyes?
She could not even properly imagine such a thing.
What had it been like for Grandfather, who lived through it?
She had told Mrs. Heelis that guessing was worse than knowing the truth. She had been wrong.
The truth was even more horrible.
She almost wished she could go back to this morning, when she had not known.
Rachel straightened, startled. Were there some things she did not want to know? If so, how could she accomplish her goal of knowing everything?
“Rachel!”
Coming back to herself, Rachel realized she was standing on the commons. Music class must have ended. On Fridays, it was followed by a free period. She was reasonably sure that it was Friday. It had definitely been Friday that morning, before she talked to Mrs. Heelis.
“We have it!” Gaius rushed up to her waving a photo. “I wanted you to see it right off.”
“Um…it?” asked Rachel.
She looked around, vaguely wondering where she had been heading. Her dorm, maybe?
Gaius held a picture of a smiling red-headed woman. “That Serena woman—the murderess who killed Mrs. Egg. This is what she looks like.”
Rachel leaned forward and examined the photograph.
Ice ran through her veins.
She had seen that woman before—standing on the dock beneath Storm King on the first day of school. The woman had been among the parents waiting for the ferry that would take their children across the Hudson to Roanoke Island.
She was Juma O’Malley’s mother.
Chapter Thirty-One:
Leaving on a Jet Plane
Rachel and Gaius pelted across campus, hand in hand. They found Vladimir Von Dread on a bench among the trees near Drake Hall, studying. He closed his book as they approached. Gaius bent over, trying to catch his breath, as he gasped out what Rachel had told him.
“We should speak to Master O’Malley,” Von Dread stood up, “and then to the dean. You discovered this information, Miss Griffin. Would you like to take the lead? I must be present, though, because I have questions. I cannot afford to lose him to the Wisecraft before I ask them.”
Rachel was so surprised to have an older person treat her with respect, instead of pushing her aside and ordering her not to get involved, that it took her a moment to compose her thoughts. When she replied, her voice was steady.
“We should bring Nastasia,” she said. “If she touches him, we may learn something useful. She would probably like to be involved in telling the dean. They are friends.”
Vladimir nodded and set off. Gaius and Rachel tried to keep up, but Von Dread’s strides were far longer than theirs. He spoke out loud to no one in particular, “Locke, Evans, meet me in front of Dee Hall. Miss Griffin, Princess Nastasia, Valiant and I will meet you there. Bring Miss Westenra. Tell her we have a boy with whom we wish her to speak.”
There was no answer, but Gaius did not stare at Dread as if he had flown off his proverbial rocker, so Rachel assumed magic was involved.
She pulled out her new calling card and asked for her friends. Nastasia and Joy promised to come right away. Sigfried had chosen to spend the free period between music and science in the alchemy lab. The way he held his card, she could not see him. She saw instead a lit Bunsen burner and the ingredients for Chameleon Elixir spread out in the proper triangle pattern. His voice came from the card, promising to join her as soon as he could get away.
• • •
They waited outside the dormitory for Nastasia, Joy, and William Locke. When the others arrived, Rachel showed her two friends the picture. Topher Evans, who lived in Dee, met them at the door and welcomed them inside.
Dee Hall was everything Rachel had dreamed of, back when she had kept a photo of the impressive edifice under her bed in hopes of someday living in its hallowed halls. The moment she stepped into the foyer, she felt the hush of readers deep in concentration. The wonderful scent of leather and old paper filled her nostrils.
Books were everywhere.
The walls of hallways were covered with books. The risers between the steps on the staircase had been replaced with books. Walking down a corridor lined with volumes on every side, they passed two alcoves containing comfy window seats, both occupied by readers. Around a corner, a small spiral staircase led up to a private reading nook above the ceiling.
Even the doors had bookshelves built into them.
Rachel gazed longingly at a display of old tomes, wondering what fascinating tales these volumes contained. Occasionally she recognized a title, but many were new and filled with unknown promise. She would have liked so much to have lived here. She wondered wistfully if it were too late to switch dorms.
“This is quite impressive,” remarked Nastasia, looking around with interest. “I do not believe Dare Hall has a single library.”
“Each dorm’s designed to help with the activities associated with the study of the Art it supports,” replied Gaius. “Scholars study, so Dee’s a library. Thaumaturges summon supernatural entities, so Drake has summoning vaults. Enchanters play instruments, so Dare has a theater and practice halls—or so I’ve been told. I’ve never been in Dare Hall.”
Topher led them to a common room, which was indistinguishable from a library. The room smelled of lemon-scented furniture polish. Long narrow windows let sunlight into a book-lined chamber with brass-cornered oak shelves and leather chairs. Golden curtains hung beside the windows. Set into alcoves, above head level for Rachel, were seven marble busts.
“Who are these esteemed gentlemen?” the princess asked. as she strolled along the long narrow chamber, gazing up at the busts.
Rachel’s eyes flickered across the familiar marble faces. “The seven Elizabethan sorcerers after whom our dorms are named: Edward de Vere, Sir Frances Drake, Sir Walter Raleigh, John Dee, Edmund Spenser, Kit Marlowe, and Virginia Dare, the founder of our school.”
Gaius glanced at William and Topher, his eyes twinkling with amusement. William smirked slightly. Topher laughed outright. Von Dread watched the three of them impassively.
Gazing up at the busts, Gaius gestured from himself to his friends. “We have long been of the opinion that the school should build an eighth dorm and name it after the great Elizabethan Alchemist, Francis Bacon.”
“And why is that?” Nastasia asked politely.
“Bacon Hall?” Gaius drawled. “Who wouldn’t want to be able to say, ‘I live in Bacon?’”
“Oh, that sounds delicious! I adore baco
n!” Joy giggled. Her voice brimmed with enthusiasm. “Maybe the building itself could be made of bacon!”
Gaius grinned at her. “I can see you’re on board with our idea.”
“Definitely!” Joy grinned back.
The princess tilted her head, frowning slightly. “What would be the purpose of this eighth dorm? What kind of magic would be practiced by its residents?”
Gaius shrugged expansively. “I’m sure we could find another kind. Maybe all these new magics could be studied there. Or it could be used for overflow from the other seven dorms.”
“But the dorms are half-empty, as it is.” Nastasia’s frown deepened. “I fail to comprehend why a new dormitory would be desirable.”
“If the dorms are half-empty,” Joy asked, “why do we freshman live five to a room?”
“Tradition,” Von Dread replied gravely.
“Bacon…” Gaius peered at Nastasia’s face, as if searching for some sign that she had caught on. “As in the most delicious food on the face of the planet? That bacon?”
“I am aware of what bacon is, Mr. Valiant. We do raise pigs in Magical Australia,” she replied primly. “But I fail to see how a reference to it would improve our dormitory experience.”
Gaius blinked. Leaning close to Rachel, he whispered, “Is she really this way? For real?”
Rachel bit her lip to keep from laughing and nodded solemnly.
“Oi,” murmured Gaius.
A young woman from Dee joined them. She looked about Gaius’s age. She might have been pretty, if she had not been so extraordinarily pale. The only color of any kind on her face was her wine-red lipstick. When she opened her mouth, her incisors were as sharp as a wolf’s.
Von Dread introduced the newcomer as Lucy Westenra. Rachel recognized the name, though she did not know if this individual was the infamous Lucy Westenra, who had once been proposed to by three men on the same day—before her unfortunate encounter with a Transylvanian Count—or a younger member of the same family. The Westenra family were all said to practice the same dark arts that led to Lucy’s current affliction. Rachel wondered how Miss Westenra and Abraham Van Helsing, the young man from Dare Hall who led the vampire-hunting club, felt about attending school together.
Topher left, returning with Juma, who was carrying Jellybean tightly in his arms. His shaggy curls bounced around his head like coils of copper. He seemed nervous, though he gave Rachel a very friendly smile.
She smiled back reassuringly.
She would not have done so, had she known what was coming.
Lucy Westenra walked up to Juma and gazed into his eyes. Speaking softly, she explained that they just wished to ask him a few questions. The tension drained from Juma’s face, but his gaze became vague.
Rachel’s stomach knotted. She did not care to see her friends hypnotized, even for a good cause. Glancing up at Von Dread, who stood to one side, his arms crossed impassively, she decided to say nothing.
William Locke stepped forward. “Mr. O’Malley. What is your mother’s name?”
“Sasha O’Malley.” Juma’s voice was flat and expressionless.
Rachel and her friends exchanged glances.
William asked, “Who is Serena O’Malley?”
Even under the hypnotism, Juma’s pupils widened in fear. William repeated the question.
“That’s what Mom calls herself when she’s evil.”
“Your mother turns evil?”
“She had an…illness.” Juma’s voice had the flat quality of someone talking under the influence of magic, but it trembled slightly. “It’s called dissociative identity disorder. Normally, she’s really nice. Gentle and sweet. We have so much fun together. She makes wonderful treats for Jellybean.” He absently petted his tiny elephant, who snuffled his hand fondly. “But sometimes, she ch-changes. Then she…does really bad things.”
“What sort of bad things?” William’s expression was calm and dispassionate, as if the matter were a scientific inquiry into the atomic weight of an element. Von Dread, however, was frowning slightly and glancing at the freshmen, as if he was not certain that they should hear whatever Juma might say next.
“When I was little, Evil Mother would hurt me. But Mom got me Jellybean. When he is next to me, Evil Mother won’t touch me. She just scowls and goes and does other things. Mom told me that it wasn’t magic. Just an agreement she and her evil self made.
“Evil Mother breaks things. She steals stuff. She causes arguments. She goes into stores and knocks groceries off the shelves and then accuses someone else of having done it. She likes to put out food for stray animals and then kill them.
“And she misuses her gift. She stands on overpasses and makes cars slam into each other. She made the garbage truck run over our neighbor’s puppy—in front of their three-year-old daughter. She once made a school bus full of kids drive off an embankment. I think she does much worse things, too, but she doesn’t let me find out about them.”
William exchanged glances with the rest of Von Dread’s posse. “Is she responsible for the truck that struck the Wisecraft building?”
Juma said flatly, “I don’t know.”
“These are serious allegations,” William said. “Why didn’t you tell anyone, Juma?”
Juma’s expression did not change. He made no sound, but tears spilled over his lashes and ran down his cheeks. “I did tell. Many times. No one believed me.”
“I believe you.” Von Dread leaned forward, his face as impassive as ever, and laid a comforting gloved hand on the boy’s shoulder. Juma’s tears slowed.
William proceeded to ask Juma a series of additional questions about his mother and her whereabouts. Even under the hypnotism, Juma did not know the answers to these questions.
“Miss Romanov?” Von Dread inclined his head to Nastasia.
The princess drew off her gloves and touched Juma’s arm. She gave him an encouraging smile. Juma held Jellybean up for the princess to inspect. The tiny elephant snuffled her golden ringlets with his trunk. The princess blinked and then stepped to the side. Rachel, Joy, Gaius, Von Dread, and Locke all joined her a little distance away, beneath the bust of the dorm’s patron, Queen Elizabeth’s personal sorcerer, John Dee. Topher stayed behind, speaking to Juma. He squatted before him, letting Jellybean sniff his hand. Lucy sat to one side, her nose in a book.
“What did you see?” Joy squeaked.
“Very little,” the princess frowned. “A scene of him at home—an Unwary house with mundane appliances. His mother was definitely the red-headed woman in the picture. She was very sweet when she spoke with him. When she turned away, however, her expression became fiendish, wild. She looked like two different people. Also, there was a shadow behind her, like a winged figure, but I could not make it out. It went by too quickly.”
“That matches his story,” William said.
“Perhaps she’s also possessed,” Rachel mused.
Gaius, who stood close to Rachel, smiled at her. “They must come from another world, too, if you saw a vision, Miss Romanov. That’s how it works, right?”
“We think so,” nodded Rachel.
Rachel tried not to stare at Gaius. He was so cute. The tiny distance between them gaped like a great chasm. She could imagine energy crackling between them, trying to bridge the gap. To Nastasia, however, the older boy was standing far too close to Rachel.
The princess frowned disapprovingly.
Von Dread straightened and flexed his black dueling gloves. “The boy seems to know very little. Let us take him to the dean.”
• • •
They escorted Juma to the dean’s office. Clouds were rolling in, hiding the previously perfect blue sky. When they reached Roanoke Hall, the princess went into the office, along with Juma, Von Dread, Locke, Lucy Westenra, and Gaius. Topher, Joy, and Rachel were left in the hallway. The other two departed, but Rachel remained, glum at the thought of having been excluded.
But standing outside a door bearing a brass plaque that re
ad: Dean, while all her friends were inside, did not make her feel any more included. Sighing, she left Roanoke Hall. Standing on the bridge over the reflecting lake, she stretched her hand toward Dare Hall, barely visible behind the brightly-colored trees to the west.
“Varenga, Vroomie!”
She waited, hoping no one had closed the window she had left open for this purpose. Cantrips did not work through glass. The steeplechaser came soaring out of the trees, across the common, over the reflecting lake, and into her outstretched hand. As she caught it, someone tapped her elbow. Rachel jumped and turned.
No one was there.
“Psst. It’s me,” hissed Sigfried’s voice. “Behold! My latest Chameleon elixir— or, actually, if you can behold me, it is not working.”
“It is working…quite well.” Rachel grinned. She peered hard at where he must be but could not make him out. She could barely see a distortion of distant objects when she stared right at where she thought he was. “Too bad we’re not both invisible. We could hover outside the dean’s window, and you could tell us what they were saying.”
“Put out your hand,” ordered Siggy.
Rachel did so. Fingers touched hers and pressed a vial of elixir into her grasp.
Sigfried said, “This moonberry stuff is so good, it makes your gear disappear…I bet it will make it so no one can see your broom. It is not as dangerous as some of my other horrible elixirs. You might survive. Bottoms up. Down the hatch.”
“What other elixirs, Siggy?” Rachel asked. “Isn’t this the only kind you’ve ever made?”
“A guy can dream.”
The two of them jumped on the broom, with only a small amount of confusion caused by Sigfried’s unseen state. Then Rachel drank the contents of her vial. It tasted like sweetness and the slither of a chameleon. Her body and her broom faded from sight.
Luckily, she did not need to see the steeplechaser to fly it.
They flew around Roanoke Hall and hovered outside the dean’s office. Inside, Juma sat in a chair reading a book, with Jellybean’s trunk hugging his leg. Von Dread was still in the room, his arms crossed. Next to him stood Westenra, Locke, and Gaius. The dean sat behind her desk.
The Raven, The Elf, and Rachel (A Book of Unexpected Enlightenment 2) Page 37