by T. H. Hunter
“Announced?!” I said.
“Goodnight, Miss Flynn.”
There was nothing else we could do. Miserably, Lynn and I traipsed out into the corridor and back to our dorm.
11
The announcement turned out to be even more humiliating than I had feared. Before breakfast, as the restless students filed into the room and took their seats, Lynn and I had to stand next to the fountain in the great dining hall, facing the staff’s balcony. The ancient First Warden X, looking as ill as ever, gave the sign to Doctor Y, who approached the balustrade.
“Silence please. As senior member of the Vampiric Council, the following punishments are pronounced upon Rebecca Flynn and Lynn Adams for vandalism and attempted theft of castle property,” she said. “In addition to the restoration of the room to its original and unblemished form, the castle requires of each of you four weeks library duty.”
“I suppose they need some cheap labour,” I said to Lynn out of the corner of my mouth. But she was too close to tears to react. She hadn’t so much as got extra homework in her life.
***
I was still seething at the injustice of it all when I arrived once again at the door of the wine cellar. The two janitors, a white-haired man, Mr. Harrow, and his son, were delighted to have a couple of students to boss around for a change it seemed.
We walked in. The cellar looked even worse than I remembered. This would take hours. My eyes immediately flickered to the door to the adjacent room, the room in which I had hidden the key. It was closed again.
“And make sure you two clean up everything. Don’ want any of the teachers cutting themselves on shards o’ glass now, do we?” the elderly janitor said, his son sniggering in the background.
“This door’s locked,” I said, trying it.
“Tha’ one’s always locked. Nobody uses that room no more, not in years,” Mr. Harrow said.
“Why not?” I asked.
“Oh, that’s the old Alchemy storage room. This room ‘ere used to be the Alchemy classroom, as a matter o’ fact. But when they moved the department over to the East Tower, they changed this here place into a Wine Cellar.”
“So what’s all the stuff in there, then?”
“Oh, jus’ worthless leftovers, old equipment an’ the like,” he said.
“I think some wine got through the cracks at the bottom,” I said. “Could you open this door for us?”
“You do want to do a thorough job, don’ ya? No ‘arm I suppose,” he said, surprised at the enthusiasm. He produced a large bundle of keys from his pocket.
Lynn was looking at me quizzically, but I just gave her the faintest of winks.
Mr. Harrow finally found the key and opened the door.
“Jus’ make sure you leave everything as it is,” he said. “I’ll be ‘round in a couple ‘o hours to see how you’re doin’.”
***
As soon as we were alone, I entered the old Alchemy storage room.
“What are you doing, Beccs?” Lynn asked me.
“I hid the key in here,” I said. “I was scared they’d search me.”
The room was full of boxes and dusty old apparatuses and metal instruments. There were cobwebs everywhere.
“Here it is,” I said, producing the key from the box.
Despite the bright daylight shining in from the windows, the room still had something sinister about it.
“Hey, look, this is where he must have been standing,” I said.
Next to the door, the dust on the ground had quite obviously been disturbed. Next to the imprints, a glimmer of something caught my eye. I bent down and picked it up. It was a small silver figurine. It felt odd in my hand, as if I suddenly had pins and needles after sitting for too long.
“What’s that?” Lynn said, craning her neck to get a better look.
“I don’t know, some sort of figurine,” I said.
“Do you think the attacker dropped it?”
“He may have, I don’t know. Have a look.”
I handed it over to Lynn.
“Looks like some dancing woman. Should we hand it over to Mrs. Prill? It might be important.”
“You heard her, she doesn’t even believe we were attacked. She’s already made up her mind that it’s student vandalism,” I said.
“But we can’t just withhold evidence,” Lynn said, though she sounded unconvinced herself.
“They’re not even looking for evidence. This is just going to get thrown in with the rest of our ‘rehearsed’ stuff like everything else we’ve said. Anyway, it was us who got attacked, remember? I just want to find out what this is, then I’ll hand it over.”
This mollified Lynn’s doubts.
“It’s strange,” Lynn said, turning over the figurine in her hand. “Vampires usually hate to use silver in anything, especially if it’s pure.”
“How do you know it’s pure silver?” I said.
“You can tell from touching. I suppose it’s some sort of allergic reaction or something. Your skin goes all fuzzy.”
“Yeah, I noticed. Is it… dangerous?” I asked.
“Not in this form, no. The Slayers used to make weapons of silver to kill us. And there have been some nasty incidents in history where people were thrown into a bath of liquid silver and things like that.”
“Charming,” I said, pocketing the figurine.
“Yeah, history tends to have that effect,” Lynn said, smiling and shifting her glasses.
“Well, I suppose we’d better get back to it, what do you think?”
***
Collecting the shards of glass and scrubbing the floor took ages. We finished with only a few minutes to spare before our first class of the day. Luckily, Mr. Harrow, who had been rather taken by our ‘enthusiasm’, seemed quite willing to do the rest. We thanked him and ran off to the lecture hall for Haematology with Dr. Balewa.
It seemed to be quite a popular class, for about a hundred or so students had squeezed into the narrow wooden seats. It didn’t take long for me to find out why. Despite the rather dry subject matter, the numerous properties and peculiarities of vampire blood, Dr. Balewa was undoubtedly a master of her art. We spent the remainder of the 90 minute lecture taking notes.
***
After the classes of the day had finished, Lynn and I parted ways. We were to do library duty on alternate days.
I’d never been to the library tower before. It was located at the back of the castle, where the corridors were narrower and older. I was quite used to scaling stairs by now, one of the perks of living the castle life, I suppose. Dr. Yurasov welcomed me at the entrance.
“Hello, Miss Flynn, please come in, but quietly please. We do not want to disturb the other students,” he said.
“Of course, Dr. Yurasov,” I said, feeling rather out of place as I stared at the high ceilings and endless bookcases. The room was the most beautiful place in the entire castle.
“You are impressed by our little collection, I take it?” he said, chuckling. “There are still two more floors above us. The view from the uppermost floor is really quite magnificent, you know. It even sports a little terrace where I like to read sometimes.”
So far, this luckily didn’t seem like much of a punishment to me. That reminded me…
“So, erm, what should I be doing …”
“Oh that, yes. I quite forgot you are here as a punishment, Miss Flynn. I was only half-listening at breakfast this morning – so irksome these ridiculous punishments they insist on dishing out to students,” he said. “So ineffective. Please, come in. I’ll show you around first.”
“Thanks,” I said.
We walked casually along the shelves as he explained the various sections and subsections, including ancient tomes bearing titles such as “The Slayer Menace” and “Werewolves, Dragons, and other Ancient Superstitions”. When we arrived at the section devoted strictly to martial arts, Dr. Yurasov turned to me with a knowing smile.
“I have heard of your exploit
s in Dr. Matei’s class. This section should be of particular interest to you. You will find all major treatises and historical combat manuals in Europe here from the last 800 years onwards. I’ve spent quite some time here myself, in fact.”
“Are you a swordsman, Dr. Yurasov?” I asked eagerly.
“Well, I try,” he said. “Perhaps we should have a friendly duel sometime?”
“I’d very much like to, sir, but I have no weapon. Dr. Matei provides them each class, you see, and…”
“Ah yes, of course. Never mind, I’m sure I can find one that is suitable for you. Now, let me show you to your post, and I will explain your duties to you,” he said.
***
He spent the next two hours ostensibly showing me the registration process for books, though we talked mostly about the swordfighting and various techniques he had learnt as a young vampire. It was particularly fascinating to hear him talk about the war. He had been a veteran, with many years of combat experience.
Some detention. After my two hours were up, I made my way back to the dormitory. I had almost forgotten the awful circumstances of how I had arrived here, but Doctor Yurasov’s tales of the war against the Slayers brought it all back again. I felt guilty for not visiting my grandfather’s grave more often and made a mental note to go first thing in the morning the next day.
Safe behind thick stone walls and the ever-vigilant gargoyles, it was hard to still believe I was the prime target for the Slayers. But I was. The castle had turned from an initial prison to a safe haven.
Lying on my bed, I took out the small silver figurine again. I liked the slight prickly feeling it gave me in my hand as I turned it. I was still nowhere closer to finding out what it was. But I was sure it had a larger meaning somehow.
12
“The tournament, ladies and gentlemen,” Doctor Matei addressed the class. “The time to show what you have learnt during this class. To prove your worth. I expect everyone to do their absolute best. Now, let’s get on with it.”
***
During light sparring, everyone was tremendously motivated. This led to quite a lot of frustration as well.
“I just don’t know how you do it, Beccs,” Lynn said, lying on the grass and out of breath. I stepped forward and pulled her back up again.
“I don’t know. It just… just came to me naturally. I’ve been reading up quite a lot on technique, though. Doctor Yurasov showed me the library section. They’ve got an endless amount of books on combat.”
Vanessa was fighting next to me with a guy I only knew from sight. He was losing badly, and I could see that Vanessa had been training hard, too. I’d read enough to see that her flourishing style, which matched her arrogant demeanour and haughty good looks, was a psychological tactic to put the opponent off-guard. It was certainly working now. She quickly caught him with a stab right in the stomach. We were only using practice weapons, of course, but his yell told me that her thrust had the force of a normal blow. He supported himself on one knee, trying to catch his breath.
“Watch out, Flynn. I’ve got worse in store for you,” Vanessa said slyly, her blonde hair dancing ominously in the soft morning breeze.
“Like last time, you mean?” I said.
“You got lucky once, Flynn. Beginner’s luck. You won’t be so lucky next time, I’ll see to that.”
Her eyes flashed with malice. At that moment, her sparring partner got up, gingerly rubbing his stomach. As if to show off her determination, she aimed a blow right to his head, which he was just about to parry, and they continued fighting.
***
For the coming weeks, the tournament was all that occupied my mind. I won’t deny that Vanessa got under my skin, that I hated her arrogant face with a passion. And I was determined to prove that it hadn’t just been ‘beginner’s luck’. There was a small voice at the back of my mind that seemed to agree, a voice I tried to push away as hard as possible. I was determined that next time, at the tournament, I would show her and the rest of the castle that I didn’t need luck to beat her.
During my detention the next day in the library, some of these worries must have shown on my face whilst I was pouring over a complicated treatise from the 16th century, for Doctor Yurasov approached me with a concerned look.
“I hope everything is alright, Miss Flynn. I’ve never seen you so concerned since the first day when I told you that you were a vampire,” he said.
“Oh, it’s nothing. Just the tournament. It’s next week.”
“I understand. I fought quite a number of tournaments in my youth, you know.”
“You did?” I said.
“Yes,” he said, chuckling. “I know, very hard to believe for such an old vampire like me.”
“Sorry, I didn’t want to…”
“That’s quite alright, Miss Flynn. Do not worry. Maybe I can show you a move or two. I always found practice more enlightening than reading these old tomes.”
“Thanks, that would be great, Doctor,” I said.
***
After the library closed, we moved to the upper floor. Doctor Yurasov hadn’t been exaggerating. The view was incredible.
“A good panorama to hone your skills, I think,” said Doctor Yurasov, wheezing slightly from the steep climb. “Wait here please, Miss Flynn. I will get the sparring rapiers.”
Sparring with Doctor Yurasov felt strange at first, though I quickly learnt not to hold back. He really was an excellent swordsman, better perhaps even than Doctor Matei.
“You really are very good, Miss Flynn,” he said, after he had landed an elegant blow on my wrist, which would have easily sliced through it with a normal blade.
“Except that you’ve beaten me every time,” I said, slightly disgruntled. I knew that I still had an enormous amount to learn.
“You must not think like that,” he said. “Only those who are already defeated think in those terms. Focus your mind on the fight and the opponent, on the present. You must observe closely. Do not waste your time doubting your own skills.”
Doctor Yurasov was right, of course, though I couldn’t shake my emotions so easily. I picked myself up again and began anew.
His technique was close to perfection. He was an artist with the blade, though I noticed that his reaction times were sometimes a little off, a bit too slow when the pace picked up unexpectedly. I had been attacking mostly, falling victim to his clever counter-attacks.
At the end of training, we shook hands. I hadn’t landed a single blow on him, but he seemed very pleased with me.
“I look forward to your next detention,” he said. “I must say, you’re bringing back to old days. You can be proud, Miss Flynn.”
“I didn’t even graze a hair,” I said, rather dejected.
Doctor Yurasov shook his head violently, like a horse that wishes to rid itself of flies in the summer.
“The first lesson, Miss Flynn, is that you are your worst enemy. It is a cliché, perhaps. But that doesn’t make it less true. You must discipline your thoughts. Self-analysis in defeat is vital. Otherwise you will simply remain mediocre because you are too proud to learn from your mistakes. Self-doubt, however, will lead only to defeat and collapse. That is a lesson not only for the swordsman, but for all aspects of life, Miss Flynn.”
He looked fiercely at me, a fire burning in his eyes I had never seen there before. But I had understood what he meant. I nodded and thanked him for the training session. There was certainly a lot I wanted to improve on, first and foremost my mindset.
***
Back in the common room, I sat in one of the comfortable chairs by the fireplace. It was late October, and the weather was already quite cold, especially at night. Lynn was nowhere to be found, so I decided to go over the day’s sparring in my mind. I was absolutely determined to defeat Vanessa during the tournament.
I reached into my pocket and took out the small silver figurine. At first, I had simply enjoyed the fuzzy feeling in my fingers. But it had become something of a symbol. A re
minder of my determination, one that I could carry around with me everywhere.
My fingers would get numb after a while of absent-mindedly caressing it, so I placed it down on the table. The common room was emptying quickly as people went to bed. Somehow, I didn’t feel tired at all. There was a keen nervousness that held me awake.
***
I hardly saw Lynn in the following days, with the tournament coming up and classes being cancelled specifically for the purpose of giving the participants more time to train, I hardly saw her at all, in fact. But it was more than that, somehow. I had the impression that she was avoiding me – as far as that was possible when living together in one room. I knew something was bugging her. At first, I thought it was something I had done, though I couldn’t for the life of me think what it was. But it was all very unlike Lynn. She usually just told me if something bothered her. As soon as the tournament was over, I told myself, I’d get to the bottom of it. I only hoped that she wasn’t in any serious trouble.
Training with Doctor Yurasov continued, and I was really glad that it did. His eagle eye for any weakness of mine was as frustrating as it was instructive.
“You must pay attention to your feet, Miss Flynn,” he had told me last time. “Positioning and balance are key.”
I had learned the basics of positioning in Doctor Matei’s class, though it was clear from Doctor Yurasov’s private lessons that I had far from mastered the concept.
With only a few days left before the tournament, which was to take place on Halloween, my nerves were stretched to breaking point. I always had had a rather erratic eating behaviour, but my stomach had refused to take anything except for the blood substitute. Something, I was sure, Doctor Yurasov would have strongly disapproved of.
***