On her way to the hacienda, Jacey stopped at the pit. The angle of the sun left the lower reaches in darkness, and she couldn’t see anything in the bottom. “Belle, Humphrey?”
A moan came up. “Go away.”
That was Belle all right. “Is Humphrey still in there?”
“Yes, now go away.”
Dr. Carlhagen had not met his end of the bargain. Jacey considered returning to Girls’ Hall, but she figured he was testing her. He must want something from her, some additional piece that he hadn’t negotiated that morning. Knowing that it was a test didn’t make it easier to walk up the path.
The mahogany doors swung open as she approached.
“Your things are in your room,” Mr. Justin said as she walked in. But she ignored him and burst into Dr. Carlhagen’s office.
He glanced up. “You’re early.”
“Let Humphrey and Belle out of the pit.”
“Oh, they’ll join us as soon as you show up for dinner.”
She held her arms wide. “Well, I’m here.”
His eyes scanned her from head to foot. “When you are dressed for dinner, I will have them summoned.”
So that’s what it was, the piece he intended to negotiate for. He wanted her in the gown. She cursed herself for not foreseeing this little move on his part.
“I refuse,” she said.
He waved at her absently. “Very well. Perhaps you will join me tomorrow.”
And there it was. Dr. Carlhagen was perfectly content to leave Belle and Humphrey in the pit, which put the weight of responsibility for their welfare on Jacey’s shoulders.
She stormed away, brushed past Mr. Justin on her way to the bedroom, and slammed the door. Gritting her teeth, she pounded a fist into the mattress. If her stare could have focused her anger, the bed would have erupted into flames. As it was, she’d only made a few wrinkles in the floral bedspread. The futility of her tantrum enraged her more. She ripped the bedspread off and threw it on the floor.
“This is ridiculous,” she said, realizing she was wasting her energy. She had to calm herself.
With deliberate and robotic motions, she went to the closet and put on the gown. She didn’t bother checking the bureau to see if the frilly underthings had been washed and replaced. She had no intention of putting them on. She glanced at herself in the mirror, noted with some satisfaction that the wide band of her black standard-issue bra showed starkly beneath the thin strap of the gown.
She left her hair in the ponytail Dr. Carlhagen required of all girls on campus, then she flopped onto the bed and waited.
It wasn’t long before Mr. Justin knocked.
“Come in,” she said.
He opened the door a crack, eyes glancing at the bedspread lying on the floor. “Is there a problem with your bed linens?”
“I thought I saw a shaddle spider.”
“I’ll change them. The dining room is ready.”
“Are Humphrey and Belle there?”
“Not yet, but they will be soon.”
She got up from the bed and followed him to the dining room. Dr. Carlhagen wasn’t there.
She had finished her second glass of water when Dr. Carlhagen clicked in with his boar’s head cane.
“Ah, lovely,” he said when he saw her. “I’m a little disappointed in the choice of underthings, and the hairstyle is a little informal. Shall we negotiate for those items as well?”
“I would be happy to let my hair down if you would tell me how Vaughan is doing.”
“Done.” He watched her, expectant smile on his face.
She pulled the rubber band loose and shook her hair free, hoping it had a bad kink in it where the rubber band had been. “How is Vaughan doing?”
“Vaughan is doing better,” Dr. Carlhagen said. “Much better.”
“Strange. Nurse Smith said he was dead. Should we be expecting to see him on campus soon?”
He cackled and nodded. “Nurse Smith is a pessimist. But, yes, yes, you should expect to see him on campus soon. I believe he is quite eager to return. Though, I must warn you, the injury to his head has affected his behavior somewhat.”
“How so?”
“He’s a bit . . . confused sometimes. Forgetful.”
Jacey wanted to believe him. The fact that she and Belle hadn’t found Vaughan’s body gave her hope. “Why haven’t Humphrey and Belle joined us? What’s taking them so long?”
“You didn’t really expect me to allow them in here before they washed. Now, please sit.” He pulled her chair out. She wanted to refuse on principle, but she really didn’t see the point. She sat, and he pushed her in before taking a seat at the head of the table.
His fake smile faded, and his face grew thoughtful. “Nurse Smith told me everything that happened last night,” he said. “This habit you have of breaking the rules is unsettling. And the way you managed to convince those boys and girls to help you with your vicious attack on that poor woman concerns me greatly. In the history of the Scion School, we haven’t ever had this kind of bad behavior. And when I track it all back in my mind, it invariably returns to your choice to meet Vaughan alone in the bell tower.”
“Funny,” Jacey said flatly, “I track it back to when you had Elias kick him in the head.”
Dr. Carlhagen thrust a finger at her. “Because you couldn’t keep your hands off him.”
“Not true!” Jacey shouted. She took a calming breath and continued in an even voice. “Nothing happened.”
“Then you deny all affection for him?”
“Of course not. Everyone loves Vaughan. He’s generous, caring, and kind.”
“Listen to how you speak of him,” Dr. Carlhagen said. “Your words have the ring of one who is in love.”
“I don’t know,” Jacey said. “One might speak of one’s parents in the same terms, or perhaps a parent might speak of her child in that way.” She gave an exaggerated shrug. “But that’s just a guess on my part since I’m supposedly an orphan.”
They sat in chilly silence for what felt like an hour while Dr. Carlhagen stared into the middle distance. Jacey figured he was thinking up hateful things to say to Belle and Humphrey.
Belle arrived first, striding into the dining room like a queen. She wore a strapless silver gown, which added ten years to her age. As did the dark circles under her eyes.
“The mauler arrives,” Dr. Carlhagen said in mocking tones. “Should I call for Sensei to defend me?”
To Belle’s credit, she didn’t react to his jibe, except to stare back at him and smile. It was the same smile Jacey had seen on Jacques Point. “Perhaps you should.”
“So that’s how it’s going to be, eh?” Dr. Carlhagen clapped his hands. “Mr. Justin!”
The butler peeped in through the server’s door. “Sir?”
“Fetch my pistol. One can never be too careful when the soulless are in the house.”
Mr. Justin’s head disappeared.
“I hope you’re not offended by my use of Nurse Smith’s epithet for you. ‘Soulless.’ I find the term kind of quaint. Has an ominous ring to it, though, doesn’t it?”
Jacey struggled to keep her face under control. She’d known Dr. Carlhagen was twisted, but his little joke about what the Scions were showed the depths of his depravity.
Mr. Justin returned bearing a wooden box. He lifted the lid and held the box out to the headmaster.
Dr. Carlhagen plucked a small silver pistol from within. He inspected it by pulling on something and snapping something else. Jacey had never seen a gun in real life and had no idea how the mechanism worked.
Dr. Carlhagen raised his eyebrows as he admired the weapon. “Locked and loaded, as they used to say. Ah! It’s the creature from the black lagoon!”
Humphrey stood at the door. He had on the same dark suit he’d worn at the last dinner. But the shirt collar gaped, and the sleeves hung a bit too far down. His hollow cheeks and startled eyes gave him a haunted look. “I see I’m late as usual.”
; Jacey was glad to see his ironic humor had survived submersion in the pit. She thought it funny that a quality she’d once found irritating had become endearing. She resisted the urge to go to him.
Dr. Carlhagen gestured to the chairs to his left and right. “Please sit.”
Humphrey stayed where he was. “Let Livy out of the pit.”
Dr. Carlhagen waved his hand dismissively, “I will, I will. In the morning.”
“What?” Jacey stood so fast she nearly toppled her chair behind her.
Belle continued to glare at Dr. Carlhagen. “Mr. Justin had no sooner greeted us at the top of the pit than Sensei led Livy from the dojo and put her into it.”
Jacey’s hands balled into fists, and she turned on Dr. Carlhagen. “That was not part of the deal.”
“Correct,” he said, unperturbed by her anger. “In fact, Livy’s incarceration has nothing to do with our deal at all.” He twisted in his chair and pointed at a white box on the side table. “While you’re up, would you mind bringing that box over here?”
Jacey didn’t move. She couldn’t move. Her body burned with her hatred for Dr. Carlhagen. If she allowed herself to move an inch, she’d attack him.
A motion caught her attention. Humphrey shook his head. She followed his gaze to the table, where Dr. Carlhagen rested his hand on the pistol.
Would he shoot her? She decided that he would if he felt threatened enough.
She took a slow step backward, then turned to take the box and set it on the table next to Dr. Carlhagen.
“Now sit. All of you.”
She did.
Belle took a seat across the table to Humphrey’s right. She stared past Jacey at the wall, as if no one was in the room with her. Humphrey watched Jacey, eyes as wide as a startled bird’s. Dr. Carlhagen sat in his usual place, the head of the table, with Jacey to his left.
Mr. Justin brought in wine glasses and poured for them. “I’ll be back directly with the salad.”
Once the butler had gone, Dr. Carlhagen studied Humphrey, bulging blue eyes intent as a lizard watching a bug. A slight smile curled his lips. “Do you know why I sentenced you to the pit?”
“Because I stole the radio.”
“Bah. What do I care about a radio?”
Humphrey’s lips quivered. “But I—”
“I wanted you to suffer.”
Humphrey’s head snapped back as if slapped. Jacey watched questions and emotion cross his face. He’d left every bit of artfulness in the pit, it seemed. “You succeeded, then, sir,” he said, reaching for his wine.
“Do you know why I wanted you to suffer? Because I was just like you as a boy. Vain, sharp-tongued, ambitious. What held me back—and what I’m sure will hold you back—was an extraordinarily low tolerance for discomfort.” Dr. Carlhagen held out a hand, palm up. “You won’t find any calluses on my hand. No, sir. And at the slightest hint of cold, I have Mr. Justin turn on the heat. Can you imagine? Needing the heat turned on in balmy St. Vitus?”
Humphrey slumped under the headmaster’s assessment. Whether it was because he recognized the truth in it or whether it was from the realization that this dinner would be as uncomfortable as the last, Jacey couldn’t tell. She wanted to console him, tell him to ignore Dr. Carlhagen’s insults. More than that, she wanted to lash out and hurt Dr. Carlhagen.
She put on a smile. “You’re in a sadistic mood this evening, Dr. Carlhagen. Why don’t you just come out and say what you mean? You hate Humphrey because you see so much of yourself in him.”
She was instantly sorry she’d said it. Humphrey’s face paled, and he looked away. Dr. Carlhagen laughed and patted her hand.
She snatched it away. “I’m sorry, Humphrey. That didn’t come out the way I meant it.”
But Humphrey had recovered. He sat up a bit straighter and took another sip of wine. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “It’s okay, Jacey. Dr. Carlhagen is right. I have little tolerance for discomfort. But my time in the pit has inured me to worse than dining with you.”
It was Jacey’s turn to look away. Humphrey’s blow was so unexpected, his tone so vicious.
“I’m sorry my presence distresses you,” she said, refusing to dab the tears away. Let him enjoy what victory he could find in her pain. When Dr. Carlhagen attacked him again, he’d have to rely on Belle for his defense.
“Not your presence,” Humphrey said. “Your existence.”
Jacey understood then. Humphrey was pretending to hate her. Probably because he believed Dr. Carlhagen intended to pair them after graduation. But Humphrey didn’t know that Dr. Carlhagen’s plan went beyond that. That Humphrey would be overwritten by . . .
Jacey coughed into her napkin.
“Are you all right, my dear?” Dr. Carlhagen asked.
Jacey sipped water and blinked away more tears. “Yes. I swallowed wrong.”
Her eyes went to Humphrey’s. They were the same eyes as Dr. Carlhagen’s. Humphrey believed Dr. Carlhagen to be his father. But instead, Dr. Carlhagen was his Progenitor. Dr. Carlhagen planned to overwrite Humphrey.
Dr. Carlhagen glowered at Humphrey. “Be nice to her. I invited you all here to enjoy dinner, not to hiss at each other like cats.”
He pushed the white box toward Jacey. “Now. I have a little gift for my lovely. Go on, open it.”
Jacey would have preferred to stick her hand in a jar of shaddle spiders. She did not want to see whatever new gown or undergarment he had brought for her. Just the thought of his eyes on her as she modeled something new made her shiver.
Dr. Carlhagen shoved the box even closer. “We can stay here all night if need be.”
The box was much taller than it was wide. The lid was a cardboard flap with a tab tucked down the front. She pulled it loose and lifted it.
“Oh no.” She reached in and removed a large, glass jar. Grains of sand were stuck to it, especially around the screw top lid. She set it on the table.
Belle flashed a look, then cursed, choosing a word that usually earned students several laps on the trail.
Humphrey closed his eyes and shook his head.
Inside the jar, dry and safe as the day they’d buried him, was Charlie. Livy’s stuffed dog.
“I can’t let something like that go,” Dr. Carlhagen said, feigning sadness.
“Yes, you could,” Belle said. “You let Jacey break rules all the time.”
“I suppose you’re right. Maybe Jacey has a whole deck of get-out-of-jail-free cards.”
Jacey had no idea what he was talking about. And she didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was getting Livy out of the pit. Dr. Carlhagen hadn’t gone to all the trouble to wrap the jar in a box without a reason. He wanted something.
“I’m interested to hear what your offer is,” Jacey said, keeping her voice light.
“Later. Right now, we have a lovely dinner to enjoy. Mr. Justin, where’s our salad?”
Mr. Justin bustled in with a tray over his head. He glided around the room, placing salads before the three unhappy Scions and the smiling headmaster.
Belle made no move to eat. She hadn’t been starved in the pit long enough. Humphrey stuffed his face so fast Jacey thought he might bite his fork in half.
Though her stomach recoiled at the idea of swallowing even a cherry tomato, she picked up her fork and stabbed at the greens. Dr. Carlhagen had begun a game, one that relied on her ability to negotiate. She knew she had no leverage, but there was no reason to show him that by sulking.
She took up her wine glass and pretended to take a drink. “So tell me about my mother.”
“You don’t have one.”
“Come now, Dr. Carlhagen. Everyone has a mother. Even you.”
He picked at his salad. “I remember little of my mother, save that she was tidy, a skilled cook, and compliant to my father’s wishes.”
“You had a father as well? That’s astonishing. What was he like?”
“Sentimental and occasionally weepy.” He lifted his fork-full of l
eafy greens but didn’t put it in his mouth. “He dreamed of becoming a famous musician, but he lacked the necessary drive. He became a teacher instead.”
“And here you are, headmaster of the Scion School. He would have been so proud that you followed in his footsteps.”
Dr. Carlhagen scraped the greens from his fork using the edge of his plate, then pushed the dish away. “I am nothing like him.”
“But at least you had a father. Unlike us, who sprang fully formed from your brow.”
“You refer to Greek mythology. Socrates loves the classics too much.”
“What did you expect? His name is Socrates.”
Dr. Carlhagen dipped his head, conceding the point. Jacey silently cursed him.
“What do you think, Belle?” she asked. “Maybe we hatched from eggs.”
Belle considered the statement before shaking her head. “If our parents were birds, we’d have wings. And then no fence or ocean could contain us.”
Humphrey snickered. “Maybe the good doctor planted us as seeds in the ground. A great vine sprouted that bore us as the fruit.”
Jacey forced herself to giggle. “Excellent, Humphrey. I always wondered what a family tree was.”
Dr. Carlhagen dug something from his coat pocket and fumbled with it below the edge the table. Whatever it was, it rattled. He popped something in his mouth and took a long swig of wine.
One of Socrates’s quotes came to Jacey. “‘Why do you look on us, and shake your head, and call us wretches, orphans, castaways if our noble father be alive?’”
“Your noble father be dead, girl.”
“Then who was Dante referring to when he broadcast his conversation with a man in the medical ward?”
Humphrey and Belle froze, both staring at her with wide eyes.
Dr. Carlhagen stroked his mustache and nodded appreciatively. “So that’s what you were doing in the bell tower. Eavesdropping.” He chuckled as if marveling at the genius of the Scions.
“Was Dante right?” Jacey asked. “Did he meet his father?”
Humphrey leaned in, anxious to hear Dr. Carlhagen’s response. Belle tried to feign disinterest, but her neck and cheeks flushed.
Daughter of Nothing Page 22