“Did you bring Bartholem?” I mouthed to her. She gave me a curt nod. Lough, who could just hear us, made a noise of dismay.
After that we had a tense but quiet ride. Oliva would periodically glare back at us, while Dove and Zervos ignored us entirely.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that Public just wouldn’t be the same.
Chapter Twelve
Once we arrived at Public, the rain was coming down so hard I couldn’t even see the buildings out the bus window. As soon as we were on campus grounds, Zervos turned around from his seat in the front and said, “We’re going to drop you off one at a time. Your bags will be waiting for you. Please return to your respective dorms. Dinner tonight is the first meal and it will no longer be in the library basement, and a good thing that is, too, since the librarians were getting very angry. Dinner will be on the first floor of the new building in the center of campus.”
The builders had been busy all summer, and I wished I could see the building through the rain.
The first to be dropped off was Keller. He gave me a kiss goodbye and said he’d meet us at dinner. Next were Kia and Camilla. The hostility in the bus went down markedly once they were gone.
Sip, Lough, Trafton, and Lisabelle were next. They murmured their goodbyes and left quickly, while I moved up to the front of the bus. It was just Rake and me now. I was reluctant to be anywhere near Zervos, but the vampire professor wasn’t paying any attention to me, he was staring straight ahead, his black eyes snapping. I wondered what he was so angry about. He had never been a big fan of Oliva, and I thought maybe the two had had a fight up at the front of the bus. That would also explain why Oliva was so on edge.
Rake and I exchanged glances and the big vampire shrugged. “Do you know your schedule yet?” he asked.
“I should,” I said, grinning ruefully. “I signed up for the classes.”
Unlike last semester, when we had been forced to take the most ridiculous classes, this time we had been allowed to sign up for what we wanted, which was a first. Of course, there were classes we had to take to graduate, but I especially, as the only elemental, had some leeway, since there were no elemental professors to teach me my craft.
“Have you gotten your books yet?” Rake asked.
I shook my head. “Sip, Lisabelle, and I were going to do that after dinner,” I said. “We’ve never been able to before.”
Oliva swiveled around in his chair. “You’re glad for the opportunity to choose?” he asked, his face unreadable.
Surprised that he was speaking to me again considering how much trouble he had said we were in, I nodded. “Yes, I’m really looking forward to my classes.”
“Good,” was all he said, swiveling back to face forward.
I was the next one off the bus, and though Dove got as close to Astra as he could, I was still soaked when I pushed the great front door open. I nearly wanted to collapse with happiness. I was home.
There was something strange about the place that made me frown. I could hear the crackle of fire coming from the elemental study and the floor looked newly swept, even though I hadn’t been there all summer. I could also smell something strange. I thought there was a very good chance that what I was smelling was baked chocolate chip cookies.
Briefly, I wondered if I should use a Contact Stone to call Keller. If I was in danger he would want to know about it, but demons didn’t bake cookies, so I didn’t bother.
Still frowning, I headed for the kitchen to investigate. When I had first moved into Astra, at the start of the second semester of my first year at Public, I had been assigned a dorm mother. Her name was Mrs. Swan, and she was mysterious and wonderful and I had always felt like she was on my side. She had even saved me once when demons attacked.
Last semester she had disappeared. It had been gut-wrenching to think she was in danger and I had no way to help her. So far as I knew she was still missing, one of a growing list of paranormals who had disappeared when the darkness had come. I had spent a lot of time wondering what had happened to her. Was she at Astra? Was she at home alone? As with the mysteries that surrounded my mother, I had every intention of finding out the answers. Also as with my mother, I felt sure that someone knew something. I just had to find the someone who did.
I pushed the kitchen door open and was almost overcome with yummy sights and smells. The counter was covered with baked goods. There were heaps of muffins, from your average lemon poppy to what looked like more exotic dream berry and ice cream. There was even a wood chip chocolate muffin, a Lisabelle favorite. I could see a large pitcher of milk and a single glass.
In front of the oven was a tiny woman, who was almost as wide as she was tall. Her gray hair was in a bun, with a cute little hat covering it. She wore a floor-length dress of dark pink, brown loafers, and an apron that was a lighter pink, with ties of yet another shade of that ever so girly color. At the sound of the door knob she spun around, a tray of cookies in her hands.
She had horned-rimmed glasses, a beaked nose, and wide lips. Her eyes were a muddy brown, and when she smiled her face was mostly teeth. She reminded me of a grandmother who could also double as a cupcake.
“You’re late,” she chided me with a smile. She placed the tray of cookies on potholders she had set on the island, and before she covered them I saw that the potholders were purple with white flowers.
“Um,” I started. “Who are you?” Not that I wanted to be rude, but Astra was mine.
She clucked as she picked up a spatula and started to slide the cookies, which looked like peanut butter and white chocolate chip, onto waiting trays.
“I’m Martha Mayson,” she said. She gave me a curtsy. “I suppose they didn’t tell you. I understand that communication is not their thing, particularly with all the changes going on around here lately.” She gave a gusty sigh. “I’m your new dorm mother.”
I didn’t like the sound of that at all. “I don’t mean to be rude,” I said. Martha’s spatula paused for a just a second. “But I have a dorm mother.”
Martha gave me a sympathetic look. “Mrs. Swan is still listed as missing. It’s bad enough that a young girl without a mother was left to live by herself in this drafty old house for all of last semester. It’s just not acceptable two semesters in a row.”
“What if Mrs. Swan comes back?” I asked. There was no part of me that would agree to believe she was dead.
Martha stopped moving cookies around altogether and looked up at me. “If she comes back, I promise to leave or to let you choose between us. Okay?”
I frowned. I still didn’t like it. “I was just fine last semester by myself,” I said stubbornly. “I don’t need a dorm mother.”
“Agree to disagree,” she said cheerily, going back to her spatula. “Tea?”
“Who else is coming?” I asked as I sat down gingerly in one of the high chairs. She had laid out three teacups on the island, so clearly someone else was expected, even if not by me.
“I hear we have a ghost living upstairs,” she said.
I had picked up one of the cherry-filled cookies, and now I nearly choked on my first bite, but Martha appeared not to notice.
“Um, he lives in the library,” I said carefully.
“Yes,” she said. “I’ve met him, and now I’ve invited him to tea.”
“I don’t think he’s supposed to be there,” I said. I didn’t want her getting Sigil in trouble, or worse, kicked out, before he could tell me more of what I wanted to know.
“Of course, my dear,” said Martha. “He can be there if you say he can.”
“Um, he can?” I said with surprise.
“Of course,” she said, smiling again. “You can give paranormals in the sixth house asylum here, because they don’t have a place of their own. You cannot have a vampire live with us, because a vampire already has a place. But if you choose to allow this Sigil to remain in the attic, so be it.”
She was speaking very carefully now, and I had no idea what she actually though
t I should do or what she wanted me to do. I was about to ask more questions when I heard a bang and an oof from outside the room. The next second Sigil floated through the same door I had come through moments before.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said worriedly, pushing at his glasses as usual. When he wasn’t fidgeting with his glasses he was fidgeting with his hat.
“Not a problem,” said Martha, still with that sugary cheer. “Charlotte was late herself.”
I wanted to tell her again that I couldn’t be late if I didn’t know there was a time I was supposed to be there in the first place, but I decided not to bother. She didn’t look like the type who took arguing well.
“Those cookies look scrumptious,” said Sigil, sitting next to me on the chair. Or at least he pretended to sit. Since he was a ghost, there was really no reality to his sitting, or eating or drinking either, for that matter.
“Another cookie?” Martha held up a plate of sugar cookies with green and pink sugar on them. I shook my head. “I’m due at dinner soon.”
“Ah, yes,” said Martha knowingly. “The new dining hall is beautiful. I am sure you’ll love it. The designers did such a splendid job. As they always do on the beautiful campus of Paranormal Public.”
“Um, that’s great,” I said, wondering if this woman was crazy or had gotten into some liquor. Alcohol was supposed to be very bad for paranormals.
“Now, Sigil,” said Martha, pouring the tea. “We need to talk about your rules.”
Sigil’s eyebrows, already hard to see behind the glasses and because of the whole ghost thing, disappeared up into his tilted hat. “Rules?” he squeaked. “What rules?”
“If you’re going to live here, I expect you to follow certain rules,” she explained patiently, as if she was talking to a small child.
“You didn’t say anything about rules,” I said, accepting my cup of tea from her.
“Oh, sweetheart, there are always rules,” said Martha with a smile. “Now Sigil. Here’s what I expect. You are not to steal. You are to keep out of sight whenever I, or Charlotte, wishes. You are not to lend books, even to Charlotte - ” Sigil and I both made noises of protest, but Martha held up her hand, brooking no opposition.
“Should you find yourself in Astra alone and unsupervised, you are not to leave the library. Also, should I think of any other rules, I reserve the right to implement them at any time.”
Not long into Martha’s little speech, Sigil had gone bug-eyed. He was now staring straight ahead and his hands were twisting back and forth in his lap. He looked positively horrified. His mouth opened and closed several times, but no sound came out.
“I don’t agree with any of this,” I said in frustration, staring at Martha helplessly. “You don’t belong here.”
Sigil appeared to gain a little life back upon hearing my words, and he gave me a look of appreciation. Martha, on the other hand, was not impressed. It was the first time since I had walked into the kitchen that her veneer of kindness slipped and her muddy brown eyes went hard for just a second.
“There must be rules,” she repeated, as if she was a voice recording that could only respond with a limited number of answers.
I was speechless. I glanced at Sigil, but he was also lost for words.
“Sigil,” I started to whisper, but Martha banged her spatula down on the table.
“We have a ghost in Astra,” she said. “This is unacceptable. I have, out of the goodness of my heart, agreed to allow him to stay, but there-must-be-rules.”
“I have to go,” I said. “It’s dinnertime and I can’t be late.” I slid off the chair. I wanted to take another sugar cookie for my walk, but the way Martha was shoveling cookies onto plates with a violence I had rarely seen in relation to baking before, I thought better of it.
“We can talk about your rules tomorrow,” said Martha cheerily, as she took the dirty dishes over to the sink. “Have a wonderful time walking around this beautiful campus.”
I nearly tripped over my own feet, but Sigil, seeing I was about to tumble to the ground, caught me and held me steady. Once I had my balance back I repeated dumbly, “My rules?”
“There must be rules,” said Martha, nodding serenely, as if she was caught in the middle of some crazy and chaotic situation and she was a beacon of calm. Ha.
“Right,” I said. There was no way in the world she was imposing rules on me. “Have a good night.”
“Oh, you too dear,” said Martha with a wink and a smile.
Chapter Thirteen
I was out the Astra door and a little ways down the path when something bumped my shoulder. It was a sugar cookie, floating by itself in the air. I had to smile. Sigil had known I wanted it, and had made sure I got it.
Luckily, the rain was taking a break, but the path was slippery, and everything from the grass and rocks to the other buildings of Public had a sheen of moisture covering it.
The light had just begun to fade when the first floor of the new building came into view. It was a mirror of the library, with colored glass. I could see that they were still working on the upper floors, and probably would be for some time. Students were streaming toward the new hall from every direction. There were vampires and pixies walking in groups, fallen angels gliding down from above, and stray Airlee students coming down the path.
I felt my face break into an involuntary smile. I loved Public and everything about it. Except maybe the dorm mothers.
The stray Airlee students turned out to be my friends. Sip, Lisabelle, and Lough were coming toward me, and I could see that each of them had changed clothes, although the only way I could tell with Lisabelle was that she had put on a regular long-sleeved black t-shirt instead of a turtleneck black t-shirt.
“How’s it going?” Sip asked, skipping up to me with a big smile on her face. “I’m famished. Hey, where’d you get that cookie?” She pointed at the last bit of sugar cookie I had yet to stuff into my mouth.
I rolled my eyes and told my friends about my new dorm mother.
They all felt bad for me, but Martha sounded more like an annoyance than a serious worry in a place where demons tried to kill us and the president of the paranormals might really be a Nocturn.
Once we finished eating we streamed into the dining hall with all the other students. I felt like it was our Starter semester again and we were new, but this time everyone was new, not just us. The doors opened right into the dining hall, but I could see that there was another set of doors, which probably led to stairs that would someday lead to the upper levels of the new tower.
“Wow,” said Sip, craning her neck upward. The ceiling of this dining hall was glass, and from below we could see the night sky and the rainclouds starting to form again.
The tables were all white marble, as was the floor, which was covered in rugs that represented every house. White marble benches, which were mercifully not part of the floor like the tables were, offered ample seating. The room was entirely glass. Instead of one big station serving food there were five, one representing each house. The new arrangement made it easier to avoid different paranormal types you might not want to run into, like the pixies.
“This is awesome,” said Sip. “So pretty.”
“You’d think they were just begging the demons to destroy it,” said Lisabelle, shaking her head.
“What can demons possibly do to marble?” Sip asked indignantly. “Besides, it’s beautiful. We have a lovely view.”
“Until it’s smashed to smithereens,” said Lisabelle darkly. “Come on, I’m hungry. Besides, I want to finish early, so we can go to Astra and meet Martha.” She gave me a wicked grin as she went off to the fallen angel station for food.
The hall felt more packed than it usually did, and I realized that even though they had given us different food stations, and there were still small round tables for us to eat at, the dining hall as a whole was smaller.
“They want to keep us penned in like cattle,” said Lough once we were seated. Keller was sitti
ng with his friends Nate and Marcus, while Rake was with the vampires. Trafton, though, much to Lough’s dismay, had joined us.
“Yes, I’m sure they usually think of the students at one of the best paranormal schools in the world as glorified milk suppliers,” said Trafton, spooning a bit of jellyfish soup into his mouth. He had gotten it from the pixie station and was slurping it up happily. Not long after Lough gave him a death stare, Trafton got up and went for thirds.
“Remind me again why we’re friends with him?” Lough asked.
“He’s smart, he’s nice, he’s funny.” Sip listed off a number of positive traits, only making Lough angrier.
“He’s the only other dream giver on campus,” said Lisabelle. “You two should be teaming up for all sorts of stuff.”
“Which reminds me,” said Sip. “Are there any classes we all have together?”
“We should have two,” I said. “Zervos’s history and Korba’s paranormal defenses. They were mandatory. Korba’s class should be useful, under the circumstances,” I finished darkly, thinking of Caid’s meeting with Malle.
“Most of us should also have ways to unfriend dream givers,” said Lough.
“But Lough,” Lisabelle said, “we like you too much.”
“Good, because you won’t be getting rid of me,” said Lough. He took another mouthful of bread; nothing, not even an argument about Trafton, distracted Lough from his dinner.
“Much to our dismay,” said Trafton, returning.
We spent most of the rest of the meal discussing Caid’s situation and what his options were. We all wanted the president to act, but it didn’t seem likely that he was going to.
As we talked, I kept taking in more details of the new dining all. There was a marble table for the professors and committee members, at which Risper’s chair was still noticeably empty. The rest were full. Oliva, Dove, and Erikson sat in the very middle, with Zervos between Dove and Dacer. Dacer must have arrived just moments before I saw him, because he walked in the door halfway through the meal. In the end I was glad he hadn’t been on the bus; knowing what I knew about his old friend Caid, I would have had a hard time looking him in the eye.
Elemental Air (Paranormal Public Series) Page 10