“Evil Rumor Monger Number One taught me while you were at the YSL meeting,” Rachel answered cheerfully.
She glanced hopefully down the gravel path toward Drake Hall, but it was empty. Nervously, she shifted her weight back and forth. It had definitely been more than five minutes now. Where was he?
Glancing back, she caught an unpleasant expression crossing the princess’s face. Glancing down at Fuentes again, Rachel played back Nastasia’s reaction. The dark expression contorting the princess’s pretty features was clearly envy.
Rachel squirmed. Nastasia had so many gifts; surely she did not resent Rachel’s success?
“Hey! Watch out!” Siggy shouted, pointing toward Fuentes. “It’s going to bite him!”
“Bite? Bite what, child?” The dean frowned at Sigfried. “There is nothing there.”
The nurse and Mr. Chanson looked around but saw nothing amiss. Rachel, too, glanced this way and that but could not tell what Sigfried referred to.
“No, Dean Moth. I see it, too!” The princess drew her bow across the strings of her violin.
A furious blast of wind blew something backwards. Lucky dived after it, a plume of fire blooming from his mouth.
Rachel stared in frustration, unable to see the cause of the commotion. Then, she thought back a few seconds. A black-eared snake slithered across the gravel toward Fuentes. It approached closely, flicking its jet tongue at the vein on the proctor’s neck. The princess’s gust of wind picked it up and flung it end over end along the pathway, where it rolled to a stop at the feet of a furious Dr. Mordeau. In Rachel’s memory, the Math tutor’s robes appeared to smoke, as if steam were rising from the black cloth.
When Rachel stopped remembering back, Mordeau was still there, but her garments appeared normal. With an angry jerk, Dr. Mordeau gestured with her fulgurator’s wand and knocked Lucky aside. He somersaulted twice, twisted in mid-air, and darted back to wrap around Sigfried. Siggy grabbed him and petted him, scowling petulantly.
A shiver ran up Rachel’s spine. Had her friends not pointed out the snake, she would not have known it had been there until long after it would have been too late to save Fuentes.
“What is the meaning of this?” The Math tutor strode toward them, fuming. Her eyes narrowed as she regarded Sigfried and the princess. “Why are these students attacking my familiar?”
“My apologies, Melusine,” the dean said brusquely. “The children are trigger happy from their recent success. They stopped a proctor who was under a geas. Kept him from harming a student. Apparently, they are now seeing enemies everywhere.”
“It was going to bite him!” Siggy yelled, glaring at Dr. Mordeau.
“My familiar is a snake, Mr. Smith. It uses its tongue to sense the world. I sent it to discover what the commotion was about—so I would know how to be of help.”
“My apologies,” the princess lowered her head, quite contrite.
Sigfried continued to glare, unconvinced.
Dr. Mordeau strode to the dean’s side and gazed down at Fuentes. Displeasure darkened her face like roiling black thunderclouds. She snapped, “How could this be allowed?”
“Obviously, no one allowed it, Melusine,” the dean’s voice was firm. “As to how it could happen, I would like to know that myself. Colette, let’s move him inside,” she said to the nurse. To Nastasia, she added, “Child, if you have another such vision, please tell me immediately.”
“I will, Dean Moth,” the princess promised.
The nurse and the dean cast the tiathelu cantrip together and floated the young proctor into the infirmary. Mr. Chanson walked beside them. Dr. Mordeau frowned severely. Then she stormed off, her robes flowing about her.
As she passed out of the shadow of the trees and through a bright patch of sunlight, Rachel could see the steam coming off her cloak even with her natural sight. She glanced hopefully beyond Mordeau, but no lanky young man with longish chestnut hair hurried down the path toward them. She sighed.
“Look at that! There’s blood!” Siggy grinned broadly as scarlet drops fell from the back of Fuentes’s head. “I got him! He won’t attack my girlfriend again! Let’s go tell her!”
Grinning gleefully, he put his knife away and ran back to Valerie, who was looking pale, resting against her many pillows. Rachel followed more slowly, her gaze lingering upon Fuentes as Mr. Chanson strapped him to the bed, in case he should wake up still under the influence of evil magic. She recalled how he had protected her from Cydney and her horrid friends. She hoped fervently that he would recover quickly.
The front door banged open. Joy O’Keefe burst into the infirmary. She looked flushed, as if she had just been running. She was grinning foolishly.
“Miss O’Keefe, can I help you?” asked Nurse Moth.
“I think I have a fever,” Joy announced.
It was the most obvious attempt to fake being sick Rachel had ever seen. Even Ian’s purple spots had looked more realistic. Rachel cringed on the other girl’s behalf.
The nurse took her seriously. “When did this start?”
“This morning.” Joy pressed her hand against her forehead and swayed. “I’ve been feeling ill since breakfast.”
“Very well.” The nurse waved her toward a bed. “Lie down, I will attend you presently.”
Joy chose the bed next to Valerie. She jumped onto the mattress and sat there, bouncing with excitement. Rachel had never seen anyone look so not unwell.
Joy leaned toward the others. “So…what’s going on?”
“It is dishonest to claim you are ill when you are obviously not.” The princess sniffed disapprovingly.
“If I had to wait any longer to find out what was up, I certainly would have made myself sick!” Joy replied. “So…what is going on? Tell me everything!”
“Not to start a new debate, but is Miss Price in the ‘Inner Circle’?” Siggy asked, voicing, if incorrectly, the question that was forefront in Rachel’s mind. “If you say it is okay, Princess, I will include her. I am your knight.”
“Do you mean Joy?” Rachel asked, her face a placid mask despite her inward qualms. She did not want to share their secrets with more people. On the other hand, Joy was the princess’s friend, and Rachel did not want to interfere in Nastasia’s budding friendship. She let out her breath in a silent sigh. “Her last name is O’Keefe. Under the circumstance, it would be rude not to include her.”
“Miss O’Keefe, then. Whatever,” Sigfried shrugged. “I wasn’t paying attention to names. Back when we were all introduced, Lucky and I were busy talking about volcano pits—how to find the kind of place I need to nest and guard eggs. This is, of course, after I bite a mate on the neck and drag her there. He has been filling me in on the grown-up mysteries of life.”
“Grown-up mysteries. Volcano pits. Right.” Rachel stared at him.
It was unlikely that Lucky’s version of the mysteries of life was going to do Sigfried much good. Moistening her lips, she decided to take the path of wisdom and not try to interfere.
Valerie and Sigfried began filling Joy in on what had occurred. Rachel glanced surreptitiously at the door, for what must have been the four hundred and sixty-seventh time. Pin-pricks of nervousness ran along her arms. Where was that boy?
It had been much longer than five minutes. Had he gotten caught up in something? Had he had trouble finding the person he was looking for? Had he intended to come back at all?
He had said he would come back.
She would trust him and wait here.
As she listened to her friends discuss things they had all said before, part of her mind wandered off with Gaius, wondering what it would be like when he kissed her again. Would they finally kiss each other? Should she be encouraging him?
Should she be running away?
Next time she saw him, she decided, she would ask him if he started the rumor Valerie repeated—that they were boyfriend and girlfriend. She was pretty sure he had not, but it would make a nice introduction to the topic. Beside
s, it would be fun to tease him.
“Miss Griffin,” the dean called from where she stood near the fountain.
“Yes, Dean Moth!”
Rachel ran to stand before her. Beside them, the healing waters of the fountain gurgled. Rachel looked up expectantly. It was a little intimidating to be in the presence of a legend. Dean Moth might be short of stature, but she had stood up to the worst of the worst when everyone else, except for Maverick Badger, had run away. She had battled Morgana le Fay twice. She had led the students against the armies of the Veltdammerung, and she once single-handedly saved a group of children from a lightning-throwing storm imp.
Rachel gazed at her with fan girl-like admiration.
The dean might be short, but she still towered over Rachel. She leaned over until they were eye to eye. “Miss Griffin, I must ask you a question. This new geas you told Mr. Scott about—Who told you about it?”
Oh, no.
Everything slowed down. Little bolts of electricity leapt along her arms. Her mouth felt dry. The needle of her compass of loyalty spun wildly, unable to find north. She felt rudderless. She needed a person to tell her whom she should trust, whom she should protect, whom she should betray.
Because she had to betray somebody.
That much, she understood. Either she must betray Dean Moth—one of the most famous, most respected figures in the World of the Wise, who—despite her great workload—had taken the time to find out who Rachel and Valerie’s friends were.
Or she must betray Gaius.
Rachel had always been an obedient girl. She treated adults courteously. She loved them. She adored them. She wanted them to be happy. Recently, grown-ups had begun letting her down.
Faces of possible candidates for the position of captain of the ship of her soul swam before her eyes. They all clamored in her head, all requested things of her, all asked for something—and not giving her anything in return.
Except for Gaius.
Only Gaius had given her information and asked for nothing back. She recalled the intense sense of kinship she had felt when they shared their mutual desire to live in Dee Hall. And the Lion had said…
As recklessly as a diver leaping off a cliff, plunging toward the frothy waves far below, without knowing how deep the sea was or whether rocks lay beneath the surface, Rachel Griffin made her choice. Drawing on greater courage than she had thought possible, she met the dean’s gaze squarely and said: nothing.
“Miss Griffin?” the dean repeated sternly. “I asked you a question.”
Rachel swallowed convulsively, but she did not budge.
The dean frowned severely. “Miss Griffin? Who told you about the geas spell?”
In Rachel’s head, the gears of the machine designed to produce dutiful obedience to adults ground against each other. Their pressure weighed heavily upon her resolve, attempting to push her limbs, to work her lips. The desire to succumb and answer was nigh overwhelming. But she did not wish to lie to the dean, and she knew that if she told any of the truth, she would not be able to stop.
Silence was her only option.
Grinding her teeth together, Rachel fought the internal force attempting to compel her to speak. She pictured Gaius very clearly in her mind. She reminded herself of how cheerfully he had removed the orange juice from her soaking robes. She remembered how he smelled when he stood close to her, like clean soap. She recalled how he had smiled as he murmured, “Have a good evening, Rachel.”
She did not answer the dean.
It was the hardest thing she had ever done in her life.
The dean pressed her lips together until they became as thin as a pencil line. She turned away, disgusted. Moments ago, that would have broken Rachel’s heart; now her spirits leapt, victorious. She had done it. She had faced the hardest trial of her thirteen years and triumphed.
She had kept Gaius safe.
• • •
Rachel returned to where the others were talking quietly. She felt dazed and astonished. She had not even realized it was possible not to answer an adult. She had never tried anything so daring before.
Nastasia nodded to her kindly. Then, the princess walked over to where the dean stood talking to the nurse. She and the dean stepped aside.
Siggy leaned over and whispered in Rachel’s ear. “Nastasia is telling the dean that as a friend of the family, she feels her loyalty to her must be greater than her loyalty to her new friends, however much she likes us. She is saying that she thinks the person who told you about the geas was an older student from Drake named Gaius Valiant.”
It felt as if a buzz-saw were shredding the lining of her stomach. Rachel could even hear its revving scream in her mind’s ear. How could Nastasia do this? How had she even known? Rachel had not told her.
Oh.
Mentally, she slammed her head against a wall, groaning. She had told her friends that an older student had told her about the geas. Then she introduced them to Gaius at breakfast. Also, Nastasia had seen her leave with him the night before. The princess had even gone out of her way to tell Rachel that Gaius was wicked. All the effort Rachel had made to protect him from betrayal; all that resisting of the turning of the gears of obedience; all that disappointing the world’s most heroic Sorceress.
All for nothing.
Rachel felt as bleak as frozen winds sweeping across an arctic wasteland.
The princess joined them again. Rachel kept up her mask of calm, as if she was unaware of the princess’s betrayal. The knowledge of it, however, caused a sensation in her chest much like what Velcro must feel like when it was torn from its soulmate strip.
“So,” Joy leaned toward Rachel, her eyes dancing with her eagerness, “Is it true that you are dating an older boy from Drake?”
Oh, not this again! Not now, when Nastasia had just tattled on her.
“He’s not my boyfriend!” Rachel cried, her cheeks aflame. She waved her hands about as if to angrily push the rumor away.
“O…kay.” Joy drew back. “Sorry I asked.”
Nastasia opened her mouth to speak, but her eyes rolled up, going white again.
“Princess!” Joy leapt forward.
Rachel grabbed Joy’s arm, holding her back. “Don’t disturb her. She’s having a vision.”
They waited, tensely. This vision was longer than the last. Then, Nastasia’s eyes returned to normal. The color drained from her face.
“Dean Moth!” She turned and called over her shoulder. “I…I had another vision. Quick! Dr. Mordeau must be stopped! All of Drake Hall is under the sway of the new geas! If my vision is to be trusted, Dr. Mordeau is about to take control of the thaumaturgy students and send them out to commit a massacre!”
Chapter Thirty:
Visions of Evil Tutors Dancing in Our Heads
All of Drake Hall? Rachel’s heart stampeded through her chest. Gaius, too?
“Vision? What…Wait!” Dean Moth turned to Mr. Chanson, “Roland, bring my thinking glass! It’s in the closet attached to my office.”
“Back in an instant!” Mr. Chanson promised. There was a rush and a boom. Mr. Chanson was back, carrying an antique mirror framed in gold filigree. The glass had a gold tint to it.
“See,” Sigfried whispered, jabbing his finger repeatedly at the P.E. tutor. “I told you he could move super fast.”
“Wow,” Rachel mouthed back, gazing at the spot where Mr. Chanson was, wasn’t, and then was again. The event momentarily distracted her from her fear for Gaius.
“What’s that thing?” Sigfried turned his head sideways. “A looking glass?”
“No, a thinking glass,” Joy replied.
“Thinking glass?” Siggy asked. “What does it do?”
Rachel answered absently, while chewing on her lip. “Lets you show other people your memories—if you know how to activate it. Father says they are tricky.”
“How useful!” Valerie gawked at the mirror. “Can you imagine how useful that would be to a police precinct? It would make ident
ifying suspects a snap!” She frowned, her lips forming a thoughtful pout. “Why didn’t they pull it out the first day and ask you all what the perp who tried to kill me looked like?”
“It’s not very useful for law enforcement purposes,” Rachel explained, “because you only see what the person pictures in their head. And most people’s memories are apparently vague. But yeah…I guess it would be useful for something like that…especially if I was the one doing the remembering.”
“Why would it be better for you?” Joy asked.
Rachel blushed. She had forgotten that Joy did not know the secret about her memory. So far as she knew, Valerie did not either.
She would rather keep it that way. She ignored the question.
Dean Moth performed a cantrip in front of the mirror. She drew all her fingertips together, making the same gesture Siggy had used to produce the skunk, and pointed from the princess to the mirror. Mr. Gideon and Mr. Tuck arrived and came to join her.
“Oré!” the dean commanded firmly. “Very well, Nastasia, dear. Come here and touch the surface. This only shows what you recall, but often if a memory is fresh, the details will be fairly accurate.”
Fresh? Accurate? What went on in other people’s minds when their memories faded? The thought was jarringly disorienting.
The princess walked forward. The other students followed. Even Valerie rose and moved awkwardly toward the mirror propped against the tiles of the pale blue wall. Siggy put an arm around her to support her. She smiled and leaned her head on his shoulder.
Nastasia laid her palm on the glass. Images formed in the mirror. Dr. Mordeau strode across the commons, a dark scowl on her face.
The figure looked like Dr. Mordeau, and yet there was something about the image, the coloring of the sky, the shape of the buildings, that reminded Rachel of Nastasia, of the way she spoke and carried herself. The effect was disturbing.
The Math tutor approached a group of students from Drake Hall. Her voice, speaking from the mirror, sounded like her but with an Australian inflection, apparently added by the princess’s memory. “Children, you will go and gather the following people for me: Eunice Chase, Magdalene Chase, Cydney Graves, Duryodhana Patel, Nazir Neferet, Mark Williams, Maleficent Rowley, Jasmine Grimaldi, Medea Volakov, Remus Starkadder, Jonah Strega, Heidi Arndt, Taka and Yuki Ishizuka, and Kremhild Schmitt. Tell them to report to your common room immediately. Even if they are in class.” The students ran off.
The Unexpected Enlightenment of Rachel Griffin (Books of Unexpected Enlightenment Book 1) Page 32