by Julia Nobel
Victoria giggled, and Lola said something to Brynn that she probably wouldn’t have if her mom had been around.
“Temper, temper, dear cousin. I guess you get your manners from your mother. No wonder Granddad cut you two off. I guess every family has an unstable element that needs to be pruned so it doesn’t kill the family tree. Thank goodness we got rid of your mum when we did—otherwise she might have contaminated us.”
Lola launched herself at Brynn, but Emmy and Jack grabbed onto her shoulders and held her back.
“He’s not worth it, Lola,” Jack said as he struggled to hold on to her. “Just let it go.”
“Yeah, he’s just trying to get you expelled,” Emmy said. “It’s pathetic.”
“And now the redhead joins the fray,” Brynn said.
“Uh oh,” Victoria said with a grin, “careful, Emmeline. Isn’t your mummy a parenting expert? She wouldn’t want you to say anything that might embarrass her.”
“Where did you get that red hair?” Brynn asked. “Must be from that deadbeat dad of yours. What a loser, no wonder your mum’s ashamed of him.”
It happened in the blink of an eye: Emmy let go of Lola, reached back, and punched Brynn square in the face. He doubled over, his hand over his eye, moaning like a wounded animal.
“Shut up!” She lunged for Brynn again. Jack and Lola pulled her back, and she struggled to yank herself free. Something inside her had snapped.
“Miss Willick!” shouted someone from the end of the corridor. Emmy’s heart sank. Master Barlowe had arrived.
“What on earth is going on here?” he asked, walking quickly through the crowd of students.
Emmy stopped struggling. Anger was still burning in her stomach, but other emotions were starting to creep in. Shock. Panic. Remorse. She had just punched someone. In the face.
“Well?” Barlowe asked.
Emmy opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her tongue felt like lead.
“She attacked me for no reason, sir,” Brynn croaked, still holding his eye.
Master Barlowe glared at Brynn. “I doubt it was for no reason, Mr. Stratton, but nothing excuses physical violence in a school corridor.” Barlowe unlocked the door. “Do you need to see a nurse?”
Brynn glowered at Emmy, then shook his head.
“Very well,” Barlowe said, “everyone come inside. Miss Willick, we’ll talk about this after class.”
Emmy nodded and walked numbly into the room. Victoria looked almost as shocked as Emmy felt. Her face was beet red, and she kept looking down and readjusting her ponytail. She found a seat far away from Emmy and didn’t look at her for the rest of the day.
Barlowe broke everyone into groups to discuss the ethical issues involved in the imprisonment of Mary, Queen of Scots, but Emmy didn’t hear a word of what her group said. Not that anyone in class was talking about Mary, Queen of Scots. The little snippets Emmy heard were all about her, Brynn, and his ever-blackening eye. Even Master Barlowe seemed distracted. He usually patrolled the groups and joined in on discussions, but he just sat at his desk and stared at the wall. When the bell rang, everyone bolted for the door. Everyone except Emmy.
She couldn’t stop tucking her hair behind her ear. Her mouth was as dry as sand, and her hand was killing her. Who knew punching someone could hurt the person doing the punching?
A minute passed, and Master Barlowe was still sitting at his desk, staring into space. Was Emmy supposed to speak first? What was she supposed to say? She seemed to have developed a sudden case of laryngitis.
Finally, Barlowe looked at her. “Where did that come from, Emmy?”
“I’m sorry, sir,” she blurted, “I don’t… I don’t know what happened. He said something… I know it’s no excuse, but—”
“You’re right, it’s not,” Barlowe interrupted. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that violence solves nothing. It only leads to more violence.”
Emmy nodded.
Barlowe folded his hands and pressed his fingers to his lips. “I’ve never known you to be an angry person, Emmy. And even though there’s no excuse, it must have been something serious to cause you to react that way.” He stared at Emmy, and she bit her lip. He didn’t look angry. He looked worried.
The knot in Emmy’s stomach unclenched a little. “He said something about my dad. About him being a deadbeat, and my mom being ashamed of him.”
Barlowe cleared his throat. “I see. It sounds like your father is a…a sensitive topic for you.”
Emmy was silent. The Order might have killed her dad. Then again, he might have left to escape them. So why hadn’t he taken his family along? Why hadn’t he come back? Did she mean anything to him at all? The fact of the matter was, Brynn hadn’t said anything she hadn’t thought herself.
“I had a challenging relationship with my father,” Barlowe said. “If you ever feel the need to speak to anyone about your dad…” He broke off, still looking at Emmy.
She twisted her fingers together. It would be nice to talk to someone who understood. But Madam Boyd’s voice still rang in her ears: tell no one.
“Thanks,” she said, “but I’m fine. I’m sorry about Brynn… I know I shouldn’t have hit him.”
Master Barlowe’s face fell. He seemed disappointed she hadn’t confided in him. “I cannot allow physical violence to go unpunished, even if Mr. Stratton deserved it. You can wash some of the walls in the humanities wing as your detention. Come by around seven tomorrow night.”
“Yes, sir.” Emmy grabbed her bag and was about to open the door when she looked back. “Master Barlowe?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you, sir.” There were times when she didn’t know what to make of Barlowe. He acted strangely sometimes, like when he didn’t seem happy about the extra work they’d done on their cathedral assignment, but he was also kind and helpful. He genuinely seemed to care. Maybe the odd things he did were just part of his quirky charm. Emmy smiled at him. She wanted him to know how much she appreciated everything.
She left the classroom and hurried back to the common room, where she found Jack and Lola waiting.
“Well?” Jack asked.
“Detention,” Emmy answered. “I have to wash the walls in the hallway tomorrow night.”
Lola gaped at her. “That’s it? Wash a few bleeding walls? I worked in the library for three months after I slugged him!”
“You did break his nose,” Jack reminded her. “Not to mention your list of prior offenses.”
“It’s not my fault he has a delicate little nose. Next time I’ll aim for his eye like Emmy did.”
Emmy stayed in the common room for a long time that night. She’d hoped Victoria would be fast asleep by the time she went to her room, but Victoria was sitting up in bed, reading a magazine in the lamplight.
Emmy slipped off her shoes and started rifling for her pajamas.
“Well, that was unexpected.” Victoria flipped a page of her magazine. “I didn’t really think you were the punching type.”
Emmy kicked off her jeans. “What are you going to do? Call my ‘mummy the parenting expert’ and tattle on me?”
“I would have thought you’d already talked to her. If I had a parenting expert for a mum, I’d tell her everything.”
“So, I could see my life used as an example in her next book? No, thanks.”
Victoria slammed her magazine shut. “At least your mum is actually interested in your life.” She flicked off her lamp and threw her head on the pillow, rustling the covers up to her chin.
Emmy yanked her pajama shirt over her head. Victoria was completely clueless. Emmy’s mom didn’t even call her on her birthday, so how could anyone say she was interested in her life? Victoria’s mom probably spoiled her rotten. Except, now that she thought about it, Emmy had never actually heard Victoria talk about her mom. She’d never hear
d them talking on the phone, and she hadn’t been the one to pick Victoria up at Christmas. She didn’t actually know that much about her roommate. Not that it was all Emmy’s fault. Victoria had never exactly been friendly.
Emmy pulled out her phone. She could text her mom. But that would probably just lead to a lecture. She turned off the phone and crawled under the covers. She’d had enough hard conversations for one day.
CHAPTER 19
Detention
When Emmy came back to the humanities wing the next night, Barlowe had a sponge and soapy bucket ready for her. “The walls are looking pretty scruffy in this corridor.” He pointed to the end of the hallway. “That one will be fine, nobody ever goes down there. Just get the other three and that’ll be enough.”
He looked at his watch. “I have to meet a student in the library, but if you’re done before I get back, just leave the bucket here and I’ll get to it later.” He disappeared down the corridor and Emmy started scrubbing.
It didn’t take long to do the three walls that Barlowe had asked for. The ceilings were so low in this hallway that the walls weren’t that big. She looked at her watch. She might as well do the wall at the end, even if she didn’t have to. Barlowe had been her favorite teacher this year, and she wanted to go the extra mile.
The end wall was really dirty, which didn’t make any sense. The closest classroom was twenty feet away, but this wall was covered in finger smudges. Her sponge kept getting stuck on the same stubborn spot. There were all these grooves and little pieces that stuck out, which made it impossible to clean. She sighed. She’d come back to that one later.
But there was another stubborn spot a little higher. This one felt more like a shape, like something had been stamped into the stone. She squinted at the wall and just about dropped her sponge. It was the Order’s symbol. It was so worn down she could barely see it, but the skull was definitely there. She ran her fingers over it and pushed. Nothing happened.
Water dripped from her sponge and puddled on the floor. This symbol kept popping up in the strangest places. It couldn’t be an accident that it was on this wall and not on the next. There had to be a reason.
“What am I missing?” She ran her fingers over the symbol, then down along the wall. There were those grooves, the ones she couldn’t get clean. She frowned. They didn’t feel like they’d been worn in over time. They felt intentionally hammered out. And they were right underneath the skull. They felt like an outline, as if something would fit inside them. There were smooth circles that jutted out, like they were waiting for something to complete them. It was as if something was…
“…missing,” Emmy whispered.
Her heart started to race. Could this be the missing piece she’d been looking for? She threw the sponge into the bucket and ran to Audrey House, flying up the stairs without so much as a glance at anyone in the room. She burst into her room and dove under her bed. Where was it? Finally, her fingers brushed the box. She grabbed it, stuffed it into her schoolbag, and sprinted across the grounds until she reached the humanities wing.
Okay, slow down. Make sure no one’s following you.
She glanced behind her and deliberately took a wrong turn. No one came after her. Quietly and carefully, she made her way back to the wall. With one last look down the empty hallway, she pulled out the shoebox and gently lifted the lid. Twelve medallions, all different shapes, all with grooves and curves that seemed deliberately hammered into place. Just like the spot on the wall.
Emmy tapped the edge of the box. The spot on the wall had three points that stuck out like nails. That meant she needed a medallion with three holes. The first one she saw only had two, and the next one didn’t have any. The third one had three holes, but it was way too big.
She picked up the fourth one and rubbed its shiny surface. It looked worn around the edges, like it had been used more than the others. It had three small holes. This one might work. She placed the holes onto the points. They fit. Then she pushed on the medallion and heard a distinct click.
The hair on the back of her neck stood up. Something else must be about to happen.
But nothing did. No secret doorway, no hidden passage. Everything was just as it was before.
Emmy’s shoulders slumped. She hadn’t imagined that click. It sounded like an old-fashioned lock clacking into place.
Then she heard another noise, but it wasn’t from the wall, it was from a nearby corridor. Footsteps.
She pulled the medallion off the wall and dropped it back into the box. She had just shoved the box into her bag when Master Barlowe rounded the corner. “Still here, are we?”
“I just finished.” Emmy threw her bag over her shoulder. If only she’d had a few more minutes.
“Excellent.” Barlowe picked up the soapy bucket and looked at where Emmy was standing. “Were you washing the far wall?”
Emmy nodded.
Barlowe frowned. “I thought I said that wasn’t necessary.”
“Oh, uh, it seemed pretty dirty, so I figured I may as well wash that one, too.” She’d thought Barlowe would be glad that she took some initiative, but he didn’t look too happy. “Sorry, I didn’t realize it would be a problem.”
Barlowe smiled, but his face still seemed tight. “Of course, it’s no problem. You’d better get back to your house before Madam Boyd accuses me of indentured servitude.”
Emmy thanked him and hurried back to Audrey House, hugging her bag to her chest.
• • •
“And you’re sure you heard it click?” Jack asked.
Emmy nodded and pulled her jacket tight around her shoulders. She had dragged Jack and Lola to the mudflats again. There was no way she would risk being overheard tonight.
Lola whistled. “Unbelievable. So, did you open it?”
“Open what?” Emmy asked.
“The door,” Lola said.
“There was no door,” Emmy said. “Nothing happened after I heard the click.”
“But the click—it sounded like a lock clacking into place?” Lola asked.
“Yeah, but—”
“So, it must have been a door, and you must have unlocked it!”
“But how do I open it?” Emmy asked.
“The same way you open any door—by turning the knob!”
Emmy stared at Lola. “But there was no knob. The only thing on the wall was the medallion.”
“Exactly.”
Emmy’s face broke into a smile. “You think it’s the key and the doorknob?”
“There’s only one way to find out.” Lola’s eyes twinkled. She and Emmy raced up the bank and had almost reached the edge of the forest when they realized Jack wasn’t with them. He was standing in the muddy valley, hands stuffed into his pockets.
“You don’t have to come with us.” Emmy said.
Jack kicked a muddy stone and it squelched into a nearby puddle. “No, I’ll come, if that’s what you decide you want to do.”
“What’s there to decide?” Lola asked. “There’s a door, we’ve got to go through it.”
“Maybe, if it’s worth it. I just don’t know if it is.”
Emmy walked back down the bank. “I know it’s risky but finding out about my dad is worth it.”
“But why would there be any information about your dad on the other side of that door?” He looked at Emmy with a pleading expression, like he was desperate to get through to her. “Your dad disappeared ten years ago, and he probably hasn’t had anything to do with the Order since then. What do you think you’ll find?”
“I don’t know, maybe some kind of proof they killed him.”
“But why would they keep any kind of evidence that they’re murderers?” Jack asked. “And let’s say, by some miracle, you stumbled on this proof you’re looking for. What then? What would that mean?”
Emmy shuffled her feet. �
�I just want answers. I want to know what happened to him.”
“I want that for you, too, but unless there’s some reason you think you’ll find them behind that door, I don’t know if it’s worth the risk of them catching you.”
Emmy twisted her toe into the sand. As much as she hated to admit it, Jack might have a point.
“All I’m asking is that you think about it. Waiting a few extra days won’t make a difference. If we’re going to go head-to-head against the Order, you’d better be sure.”
• • •
Emmy did think about it, and for more than a few days. The end of term was getting closer, and she still hadn’t decided if she would look behind the wall in the humanities wing. She didn’t know what was back there, and if she stumbled on some Order members, she wouldn’t stand much of a chance. It also wasn’t just her neck she’d be risking—Jack and Lola insisted on coming with her, and if she was really honest with herself, she didn’t know if she’d have the guts to do it without them.
She had less and less time to think about it now that exams were starting. The common room had been turned into a study zone, and everyone was feeling the pressure.
“What kind of things were on your second-year Latin exam?” Emmy asked two days before her first exam.
“Not much,” Lola said. “Verbs, vocab, that sort of thing.”
“Not worrying about your exam, are you Emmeline?” said a deep voice behind them. Emmy did a double take. Even though Master Larraby was the head of Edmund House, he rarely came into their common room. “I was just coming to see how you were getting along with your studies.”
Lola raised an eyebrow at Emmy. Master Larraby didn’t usually put much effort into helping his students.
“Uh, I’m doing fine, I think,” Emmy said.
“Splendid. Just make sure you review Tusculan Disputations.”
Emmy stared at him. “What?”
“Tusculan Disputations. We did go over them, didn’t we?”
Emmy’s mouth went dry. “Um, no sir. I don’t think we did.”
“Oh, I’m sure we did, you must have just forgotten. Not to worry, I have a worksheet about them somewhere. How about you come by my office tomorrow at three thirty, I’ll give it to you then.”