Chapter Eighteen:
The Marvelous Amulet of Sigfried Smith
Rachel arrived at the dining hall, her pockets stuffed with Smarties and Aeros. The smells of breakfast filled the air, but she did not feel hungry, neither for omelets nor for candy. She sat with her friends and stared blankly at her tray.
Salome arrived with an air of excitement and took a chair next to Valerie. She leaned forward, gleefully imparting her juicy gossip. “I don’t know what you all did, but high marks! Take a look at Cydney and her friends. Word is that they woke up covered with chicken guts and all sorts of gross stuff. The dorm stank this morning. I can tell you that!”
Rachel glanced over at the table Salome indicated. Magdalene sat by herself, a new bruise on her cheek. Her little porcelain doll stood near her feet under the table, looking oddly alert. A little farther down the same table, Cydney and the other two girls who had attacked Rachel sat with towels wrapped around their heads like turbans. Rachel stared at them with a rising feeling of curiosity and delight.
So, Zoë had succeeded.
What had she done?
“Huh?” Valerie put down her glass of milk, leaving a mustache. “They’re wearing turbans. Is that the in-look in the World of the Wise? If so, you guys are in serious need of fashion CPR.”
“You should see what’s underneath,” murmured Zoë, twirling one finger through her electric blue hair, even her eyebrows and eyelashes were blue today.
“Yes. What is under the towels? I am so curious,” Salome mused, tapping her fingers on the table. “Wonder how we could get them to take the towels off.”
“I could send Lucky over there to pull on them,” Sigfried offered.
He had three plates in front of him, each piled with food he was wolfing down hungrily. Occasionally, a piece of toast or an apple disappeared into the pockets of his robe.
“Could you?” Salome leaned way forward, revealing her cleavage.
Sigfried glanced away, scowling. He reached out and took Valerie’s hand. Her cheeks went pink with delight.
Over by the other table, Cydney Graves gave a shriek as her towel dropped from her head. Rachel remembered back a few seconds. Sure enough, she could recall Lucky yanking on it with his teeth. He had pulled hard and the swath of pale pink terry cloth had come away from her head. Underneath, Cydney’s hair was puke green. The other two towels also came off. The unpleasant color particularly stood out against Lola’s dark skin.
Valerie snapped a photo, her flash temporarily blinding Cydney and her friends. Their resulting shrieks attracted attention. Soon, everyone in the dining hall was pointing and laughing. Cydney and the other two quickly left the dining hall, surrounded by Belladonna and several other girls. Their retreat was accompanied by hooting and cat calls.
Valerie blew over the top of her camera lens, the way a character in a play Rachel had once seen had blown over the barrel of his gun. “That will look so sweet in the Roanoke Glass.”
Rachel tipped her chair back and crossed her arms behind her head. Her expression slowly transformed from thoughtful to amused to delighted. Bringing her chair legs forward with a bang, she leaned against the table and pulled her elbows around her head, so that her arms hid her face. Then, she giggled and giggled and giggled.
“Thank you, Zoë,” she whispered when she could speak again, wiping away tears of laughter. “That was…very satisfying.”
“No worries,” Zoë mouthed back. “Anything else? More enemies you need humiliated? People you want whacked with a magic patu? Relatives who need someone to sleep on their sofa? You would be amazed what people let slip into the cracks in their couches.”
“No.” Rachel’s eyes sparkled. “I’m good.”
Zoë winked. “Mission complete.”
“That was quite amazing,” Salome was still gazing after her departing dorm mates. “How did you do it, Rachel?”
Smirking, Rachel began cramming eggs into her mouth. “Magic!”
• • •
Tempted by the lovely morning, Rachel took her broom and flew through the towers and spires at high speed. Her mind grew quiet and alert, entirely occupied with the clarity needed for high-speed precision flying. Finally, panting, she sailed gently back toward her dorm.
As she went, she mulled over the problem of no longer having someone to report to. When she was little, her highest loyalty had been to her grandfather—he had been the captain of the ship of her soul. His hand had guided the tiller of her heart. Grandfather had been wise and canny. He had become duke as a young man, back when having a title truly meant something, when dukes still ruled. He had been a British general, commanding men and changing the fates of nations. His fierceness and his imposing presence intimidated people of every rank.
But Rachel had never been daunted. She had recognized him for the brave and noble man that he was. No matter how he bristled, she responded with unrestrained love. He was often brusque, but she learned the secret to how to approach him, how to not be frightened by his public affectation, how to speak to him in his own metaphors. He had loved hearing her recite things: books she had read, sights she had seen, conversations she had overheard. He had encouraged her to make the most of her perfect memory, and Rachel had loved memorizing things and reporting them to him.
After he died, there had been a period of emptiness accompanied by darkness and a terrible buzzing noise that seemed to come from deep inside her. It was as if her soul had been wounded and would not heal. Slowly, over the next year, her father moved into the void. Father was thoroughly competent yet relaxed, assured, and amused. Rachel loved him dearly, but she did not understand him as she had understood Grandfather. She could not guess his moods the way Sandra could. Yet, Father listened carefully to her, and Rachel had loved him for it.
Only, now Father had failed her.
She could not be angry with him. She understood. Who could blame a father for wanting his daughter to be safe and pay attention to her classes?
And yet, the position of the captain of the ship of her soul was once again vacant.
Rachel had no idea how to fill it.
• • •
On Thursdays, her core group had first period free. Rachel showed Siggy and Nastasia the library. She was a bit disappointed that they were not as entranced as she had been. Apparently, not everybody was in love with the very concept of miles of books. She wondered how Gaius felt about libraries.
Seated in an out-of-the-way corner, the three of them bent their heads together. Whispering, Rachel filled the princess in on the happenings of the previous night, both the matter of the wraith and what Maverick Badger had told her.
“I am very pleased to hear of your bravery and that of Mr. Smith. And certainly helping Miss Price is commendable,” Nastasia said gravely. With her pale golden hair pulled back by a light blue ribbon, she looked both regal and as lovely as a summer’s day. “But you should not have broken curfew, and you certainly should not have lied to the nurse.”
Rachel blinked at her in surprise. “But…Mylene Price was being eaten by a wraith! Besides, I did not lie. The nurse drew her own conclusion from my forehead being hot.”
Nastasia gave her a thoughtful but still disapproving look. “We must always do what is right. Even when aiding others.”
Rachel goggled at her. Then she sat back and crossed her arms, frowning. The princess had a stronger understanding of right and wrong than she did. But was Nastasia right about this? Should Mylene have suffered another night because the adults would not believe Rachel?
In her heart, she did not think so.
Siggy was undaunted. “Right by who? No one told me not to leave the dorms at night.”
“There is a curfew at ten pm—” the princess began.
Siggy cut her off. “No adult has mentioned that to me. And if they haven’t told me, it doesn’t count. Besides, grown-ups only invent rules in order to have a reason to punish children. The key is not to get caught.”
“That is
hardly the standard by which virtue should be measured.” Nastasia gazed at him as if he had disappointed her.
“What do I care about measuring virtue, whatever that is? Is it a liquid or a solid? Do you measure it in grams or in yards?” Siggy spat out the paper he had been chewing, adding to his arsenal of spitballs, which formed a small pyramid on the table.
“A knight should be concerned about virtue.” Nastasia pushed her pencil back and forth on the table, frowning uncomfortably.
Rachel did not care for the mulish expressions on her friends’ faces. It was time to change the subject. “Enough about last night. Let’s talk about what we know. The horrid Raven is the doom of worlds. Many people here are from other places. We do not know if the Raven is destroying those worlds or just heralding their doom…but he wanted to send Kitten’s lion away, and he seems to be friends with the lightbringing torture-creature. Am I missing anything?”
“No. I believe that is what we know so far,” Nastasia said. “This vision power is rather frustrating. It keeps showing me things, but the information I receive is worthless. There is no way for me to act or fix anything based on what I’ve seen.”
“No, Nastasia, no!” Rachel drew back, horrified. “Information is never worthless.”
She could not even imagine having the princess’s visions and not loving them. True, they might be disturbing, but she felt that would be worth it in return for the peek behind the scenes of others’ lives. Who knew what secrets might be gleaned from such information. If she had been the one to have the visions, she would have recalled them over and over, seeking additional clues that the princess might be overlooking.
Rachel sighed. So far, she was doing a decent job of not coveting her friends’ amazing gifts, but it became much harder if they did not appreciate what they had.
“It is meaningless if it has no bearing on our current lives.” Nastasia turned the page of her ubiquitous text book.
“You have to love information for itself,” Rachel insisted, her eyes afire. “Only then can you find its usefulness, its true worth. Sometimes, I have known a bit of information for years before I found a use for it. Suddenly, it’s the very bit I need. Like the fact that Beatrix Potter became Mrs. Heelis. I knew that for ages before I needed it.
“Sometimes, I think I have such a good memory because I love knowledge so much,” Rachel mused. “I love information, and it loves me. It seeks me out.”
“Why?” Siggy asked curiously.
It touched Rachel that he did not disbelieve her. Usually, when she said such things, people just gawked at her.
She considered his question. “Maybe so it can sit in my perfect memory and be remembered.”
“I’d forgotten you had a super power,” Siggy said.
Rachel shivered. The very notion of forgetting disturbed her.
“I’ve also got a magic power.” Siggy turned to Nastasia. Leaning forward, he filled the princess in on his link with Lucky.
“And that’s how you overheard the proctors talking, isn’t it?” Nastasia asked, smiling with delight. “Lucky overheard them.”
“Yeah, of course,” Sigfried said casually. “That’s it.”
Rachel leaned back, frowning. Her eyes rested on the patterned tiles of the ceiling while she recalled the event in question. Slowly, she said, “No. It could not have been Lucky. He was still over by your bed, with us.”
Siggy was silent for a long time. Twice, he stabbed his pencil against his notebook, drawing thick dark lines that left an indent in the paper. “No. It wasn’t Lucky.”
“How did you do it?” Nastasia asked.
“You promise to tell no one?”
“I give you my solemn word,” Nastasia said.
“Not even my father,” Rachel swore, which was easier today than it would have been yesterday. She felt the compass needle of her loyalty sway ever-so-slightly from her beloved family toward her two new friends.
“I found something in the dragon’s hoard, an amulet. It lets me see around me in three hundred and sixty degrees. I can look through walls, see invisible things, things even Lucky can’t normally see.”
“Wow.” Rachel gasped in astonished joy. “You can spy on everyone all the time?”
“That’s right.” Siggy nodded.
“Amazing!” Rachel gaped, her mouth hanging open at such a marvel. “Can you look through anything?”
“Almost anything. I can’t look into the girls’ dorm, or locker rooms, or bathroom.”
The princess passed a hand over her golden locks. “The amulet cannot see into the girls’ bathroom? Do you know how it came upon this limitation?”
“No. The amulet can see into the girls’ bathroom. I can’t look into the girls’ bathroom. What would King Arthur say when he wakes up, if I did such a thing? He’d never knight me.” Siggy spoke in complete seriousness.
“Oh…” Rachel blinked. He sounded like her brother Peter. “Quite decent of you.”
“It’s tough,” Siggy admitted. “But so far, I’ve managed to hold out.”
Nastasia pursed her lips. She seemed both disapproving and amused at the same time. “So, you can overhear what is going on around us? How fascinating. My father would love something like that. He’s forever complaining about the poor quality of his spies, most of whom never report in. Of course, it is impossible to tell if he is serious. The spies that never report back are probably fruit bats and kookaburra. For all I know, his real spies might be perfectly suitable.”
“Yes. I can hear everything around us.” Siggy wadded a piece of paper into yet another spit ball and tossed it over a banister into the hair of a red-headed student a floor beneath them.
Rachel pressed her palm against her mouth to contain her mirth. The princess tsked in mild disapproval.
Pointing at a nearby table, Nastasia asked, “What are they saying?”
Siggy glanced over at the three sophomore girls and rolled his eyes. “They are talking about which tutors are attractive.” Rachel giggled. She had strong opinions on that subject. Nastasia wrinkled her nose, uninterested. She pointed at some older students.
Siggy tilted his head, listening. “They are discussing the arrival of the Transylvania royalty early Sunday morning. The girl with the green dangly earrings, the one who is waving her hands, is saying: ‘The Starkadders sailed up in a flying clipper ship. It’s enormous. It landed on the common, huge sails billowing everywhere. The princes and princesses came out in age order: First Romulus—the crown prince, then Remus, Freka, Fenris, Beowulf, Luperca, and Wulfgang. Two little ones stayed inside and waved, a boy and girl.’” Siggy paused. “That’s all she said. Now, the girl next to her is talking about something called Witch Babies.”
“Quite impressive,” Nastasia acknowledged with a regal nod.
Rachel tapped Sigfried on the shoulder, pointing. “Siggy! Over there. What about them?”
Below, on a lower level of the library, Cydney Graves and her friends sat studying, their hair stuck up under their square scholar’s caps. Siggy tilted his head. He spoke as the girls spoke. Rachel watched over the banister, tracking who was speaking.
Cydney: “Once we find the spy, that person is going to be so sorry. We’ll make sure they’re never welcome in Drake again!”
Lola: “Could be Salome. She talks to that girl.”
Belladonna: “Nah, Salome’s too cool. Also too smart. She wouldn’t offend her dorm-mates right off. She knows she has to live with us for the next eight years.”
Lola: “I bet it’s Magdalene. She’s such a little twit.”
Cydney: “But how could Magdalene do it? How come we didn’t wake up?”
Charybdis Nott joined the others, put her books on the table, and pulled out a chair.
Belladonna: “Charyb, there you are. So…what were you talking to Jonah about?”
Charybdis: “Jonah? I didn’t talk to him.”
Belladonna: “Yeah…riiiight.”
Cydney: “Boy, he’s cute…though a l
ittle creepy. Can you introduce me?”
Charybdis: “I didn’t talk to him!”
Cydney: “Okay, be that way. Keep it to yourself.”
Charybdis: “I didn’t…argh! Enough about that. What about our hair? How long will it last? How do we turn it back?”
Cydney: “Don’t know, but my brother’ll figure it out! He’ll take care of everything.”
Lola: “You and your brother! You would think Randall Graves was Adonis born again. Okay, so about this Science assignment…?”
Siggy stopped talking and leaned back. “They’re just talking about school work now.”
Rachel giggled. “They still think it was an inside job. It’s nice to have a secret weapon.”
“It is indeed.” Nastasia pressed her lips together to contain her mirth. Her eyes sparkled. “We are quite fortunate to have Miss Forrest among us. And Mr. Smith’s amulet.”
“I wish we could do something for Magdalene.” Rachel said softly. “I think she looks up to you, Siggy. I don’t suppose you could have Lucky burn her sister? If her sister’s the person hurting her. Could you spy on her and find out?”
“Sister!” Siggy threw up his arms and groaned in frustration. “Arrgghh! Why couldn’t it be a brother! Then, Seth and I could go introduce him to our right upper cuts! See if the rotter would beat a girl after that!”
“Hurting her?” the princess asked.
“She has huge bruises on her face. Salome hinted that her sister might be hitting her.”
The princess’s brow creased, concerned yet cautious. “If she is indeed being abused, we should tell a tutor. Or perhaps Dean Moth. But are you certain? It is unwise to make accusations like that without solid facts.”
Rachel frowned, petulant. “The tutors’ll probably just tell us we had a nightmare.”
Siggy scowled.
As they gathered their books to head off to their next activity, he muttered under his breath. “Why did you and Magdalene have to be attacked by girls? If only it had been boys. Lucky and I would have had such a grand time scalding them!”
The Unexpected Enlightenment of Rachel Griffin (Books of Unexpected Enlightenment Book 1) Page 20