The Unexpected Enlightenment of Rachel Griffin (Books of Unexpected Enlightenment Book 1) (24 page)

That’s it
! Rachel gritted her teeth as she flew among the sparkles, circling the wraith.
I’m getting a wand
. This was the second time she had found herself helpless before a threat. She never wanted to be stuck like this again, watching someone suffer and be unable to help.

A longing to protect others burned in her chest like a star.

Siggy dropped to his knees, his face paper white. The wraith had both hands stuck inside her friend. As she watched, it pushed its head into Sigfried’s face.

Sigfried made a horrible noise and fell over, where he laid curled up on the ground. But even that did not stop him. Despite all this, his knife hand rose up and continued to stab at the substance of the wraith, which was so close to solid now that his knife actually tore it. Rachel flew toward him, not certain how to help, but determined not to let her friend die.

“Boss! Boss! I’m back. Get out of the way! I got this!”

Lucky the Dragon jetted across the lawn, swift as a furry river. Darting to Siggy’s side, he breathed. Fire erupted from his mouth, striking the dark entity.

From where he lay on the ground, a pale and shaky Siggy threw his head back and laughed maniacally. “Burn, Baby, burn!”

The cloak-like shape popped like a bubble. Underneath was a real wraith, gaunt eyes, skull-like face, narrow bony hands.

“Now!” cried Abraham Van Helsing.

The music crescendoed. The swaths of glittering sparkles swirled around the wraith and drew it inexorably toward the crystal container. With a horrible yowling scream, the terrible creature was dragged into the vase.

Rachel sat on her bed in the infirmary, wrapped in a blanket but still shivering. She sipped gingerly at a mug of hot chocolate warming her cold, trembling hands. Siggy sat in the next bed, drinking his own cup of cocoa and skillfully high-fiving Lucky’s soft, padded palm without snagging his razor-sharp talons. Across the way, Mylene Price sat propped up against some pillows, her bright-eyed otter curled in her lap. There was a little bit of color in her face. She had not said much, but her eyes shone with gratitude.

The door to the infirmary opened, and two of the proctors—Mr. Fuentes and Mr. Harvey Stone, a dark-skinned man of medium height with tight, curly hair—came in, followed by their boss, Maverick Badger. Mr. Fuentes came over immediately and shot a big smile in Rachel’s direction.

“Hey! I shouldn’t be seeing you back here so soon, Squirt! What is this about you offering yourself to a wraith as a snack? Don’t you know that’s bad juju?”

Rachel grinned back at him. “Better me than her.” She pointed across the way at Mylene. “That wraith has been living off her for three years. Now it is gone, and she can get healthy.”

Fuentes eyebrows arched, impressed. “Good for you. Only next time,”—he squatted down in front of her and took one of her hands; his grasp seemed so large and warm— “come to us and tell us, rather than taking on the wraith yourself. Come to me, sweetie. Okay?”

“I told the tutors. They didn’t believe me,” Rachel said. She felt a strange empty sensation as she said this, as if Miss Debussy, Mr. Tuck, and Mr. Fisher had personally betrayed her. “I told the nurse, too. But she couldn’t see it.”

“I don’t get it. How could
you
see it? How did you know it was there?”

She gave him her biggest grin. “Magic.”

He laughed out loud and stood, releasing her hand. Disappointed to have to let go of him, Rachel put it back on the warm cup.

“Okay, don’t tell me,” he drawled. “I know many people here have unusual talents. But remember what I said. Next time, tell us.”

Fuentes headed off to speak to the nurse. As Rachel continued to sip her cocoa, Mr. Badger came over and sat on the bed next to hers.

“You all right, Miss Griffin?” he asked gruffly.

“I’m okay.”

“Listen.” He leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “I asked around for you…about the Raven. Most of the staff here have never even heard of him, but I spoke to Nighthawk, the Amerindian fellow who is the head warder on campus. He said something…” Badger’s eyes narrowed, “…peculiar.”

“Really?” Rachel wanted to hear what so badly that she could hardly breathe to form words. “Wha-what did he say?”

“He said that in his culture Raven is a trickster, a clever guy. But in some cultures, the raven is an omen of death, an omen of doom.” Badger paused, leaning even closer. Rachel caught a whiff of wood smoke and musk. “Nighthawk said the Raven with the red eyes is something bigger. It’s an omen of the doom of worlds.”

Cold icy fingers, far worse than the touch of a wraith, passed across the back of Rachel’s neck.

“Doom of worlds?” Her voice came out a hoarse whisper. “Whose world? Ours or…others?”

Badger gave her an odd look. “Don’t know. That’s all he said.” He stood up and pinned her with his fierce gray eyes. “You hear about anyone seeing that Raven, you’ll tell me, right, Miss Griffin?” Rachel stared up at him, but she did not move, did not nod. He grunted. “Right. Have a good night, Miss Griffin.”

Rachel sat there on the bed, shaken. Mr. Badger’s words had disturbed her more than the other events of late. All the other things were personal, affecting only a few. But the doom of the whole world? She thought of the princess’s visions of desolated and destroyed landscapes. Was the Raven causing all these disasters?

Or did his appearance indicate that a doom was coming, the way thunder indicated the presence of distant lightning?

Closing her eyes, she thought about the Earth: the cool rushing rivers, the leaping waterfalls, the tall majestic mountains, the golden fields and stark stone mansion of her home, the thick dark forests of Roanoke Island—not to mention art and science and magic, and libraries, and all the good things of human civilization. Was all that at risk?

She felt lost, alone, uncertain whom to tell or how to proceed. She knew only that she wanted, with all her being, to protect those who were threatened. And then, she remembered what to do, and suddenly she felt snug and safe.

She could report to her father.

Taking paper and pen from a stack on the nurse’s desk, she wrote down everything.

When Rachel woke next, moonlight streamed into the infirmary, casting odd shadows and bathing the floor in silvery light. The green balls of healing light had dimmed to a near indistinguishable flicker. The dancing will-o-wisps were back in their nighthoods. It was so quiet that she could hear the tick of the grandfather clock across the chamber and the whirr of the orrery motors. In the distance, thunder rumbled.

Overhead, constellations twinkled: the Big Dipper, the Lyre, Orion. She stared up, scrunching her eyes in her effort to make sense of this. Then, she understood. The domed ceiling above her head, a cloudy blue by day, had tiny glow-in-the-dark crystals set into it, forming an image of the night sky. The phosphorescent planets on the orrery, Venus and the rings of Saturn, shone pale green against this backdrop of stars.

Nearby, something moved.

“Sigfried?” she whispered hoarsely.

“Yeah.”

“You’re awake, too, eh?” Rachel grinned. “What’s wrong? Can’t sleep without all that lumpy gold?”

“Our gold?” Siggy sat straight up. “Lucky! You better go check on it.”

The dragon uncurled from where he had been wrapped around his master. “Right, Boss, I’m on it. Only…what if you need me?”

“Then, I’ll call you back. You can get back here quick, right?”

“Right. Got it.” Lucky zipped off, slipping out an open window.

Rachel sat up and propped her pillow against the headrest behind her. “So, who finally slugged you? Ian or Enoch?”

“Are you kidding?” Siggy snorted. “They are both soggy wimps. Don’t get me wrong. I like ’em, but they would not have lasted a week at the orphanage. Or even a day. Especially Enoch the Wuss. Nay, it was Seth Peregrine. Good upper cut!”

“The bass guitarist who plays hockey? Zoë’s friend?”

“Yeah, he’s from a tough part of town. Used to be in a gang. He can actually fight. He’s offered to teach me.”

“You can’t fight?” Rachel asked, confused.

“I can fight. I just can’t box. Or wrestle. Guts I got. What I lack is technique.”

“What does it mean to fight without technique?”

“Mostly I flail around wildly until the other guy goes down.”

“How did you kill the dragon? The one in the sewers with all the gold?”

Siggy fell silent. A breeze blew through the infirmary. The chimes rang softly.

“Siggy?”

His voice, when it came, was low and hesitant. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“I promise.”

“I didn’t. Lucky talked to it, and it blew itself up.”

“Wha-what?” Rachel shook her head in confusion.

“Lucky talked it into blowing itself up. Lucky did it.”

“Blowing itself…up?”

“Yeah…they talked and then, kaboom! It exploded.”

“Strange…” Rachel was not sure what to make of that. “Lucky can talk to you in your head, can’t he?”

“What makes you say that?” Siggy asked defensively.

“Oh…just a hunch.”

“Yeah. Yes, he can. We talk to each other in our heads, and I can see through his eyes.”

“So that is how you knew that fake Agent who was after Valerie had come back!”

“Exactly,” Siggy said. “Lucky can see a lot of things others can’t see. He can also make himself invisible. He does stuff like turn invisible and drink the coffee tutors leave on their desk. Only he has to be careful, a few tutors can see through his invisibility, as can myself, the princess, and Dread.”

“Von Dread?” Her eyebrows shot up.

Siggy nodded. “And Wulfgang Starkadder…sometimes. He and Joy are not as good at it as the princess and me, but they have both caught him at least once.”

“Hmm.”

Rachel felt sad that she could not do this. Then mirth bubbled up inside her. She, of all people, should not be envious of people’s ability to see things that normally could not be seen.

“I have a secret power, too,” she whispered.

“What is it?” Siggy’s eyes grew large. “You must tell me! We are friends. Friends hold nothing back! They tell each other everything!”

“I have a perfect memory. I can remember everything,” she confessed. “When I remember back, I can recall things my eyes didn’t pick up…when did Lucky last drink a tutor’s coffee?”

“Mr. Tuck’s coffee, this morning.”

Rachel tipped her head back and recalled Language class. Sure enough, she recalled Lucky sitting on the table, his long tongue flicking into the tutor’s mug.

“Okay…I can see Lucky when I remember back,” she said, “Which is a warning. I’m not the only person who can do this. My mother can do it, too. There may be others…people who won’t see Lucky at the time, but who will know what he was up to later on.”

“Good to know,” mused Siggy.

They both settled back. Rachel gazed at the constellations glowing overhead.

“By the way,” Siggy said suddenly, “Lucky’s not the only familiar who can turn invisible. He and I caught Dr. Mordeau’s familiar sneaking around when nobody but us could see it. You know, the creepy, eared snake?”

“Really?” Rachel leaned forward. “Siggy, do you remember when Dr. Mordeau asked about my father?”

Siggy blinked. “No.”

“At the end of class, when kids from Drake were teasing me about my broom?”

Siggy blinked again. “Sorry. What day was this?”

Rachel rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. “You missed other children picking on me and humiliating me?”

“Were there explosions? Descriptions of other planets? No? Then why would I care?” Siggy asked. “I was watching what Lucky was doing. He’s been investigating the tor to see if there is a way into where the Heer of Dunderberg is imprisoned. We want to see a storm imp.”

“Good grief!” Rachel sighed. “Well, she mentioned my father, and when she said his name…” Rachel paused.

“When she said his name…what?” Siggy asked impatiently.

“Her eyes were filled with hatred.” Rachel paused. “Dr. Mordeau hates my father.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. But…” she paused again, thinking hard. “She is too old to be a schoolmate of my father’s, which means it is unlikely that she hates him for personal reasons. And she’s not English or Scottish or something, so it’s unlikely that it has to do with him being a duke.”

“What does that leave?”

“The Wisecraft. It leaves hating him because he is an Agent.”

“Who hates the Agents?”

“Evil people.” Rachel’s mouth seemed unexpectedly dry. “People with wicked intent.”

“Huh.” Siggy thought about this. “We’d better keep an eye on her then. I’ll have Lucky go investigate her. But he’ll have to be stealthy. She can see him.”

“Definitely send him, but tell him to be careful.”

“Don’t worry!” Siggy snorted with pride. “He’s smarter than the average dragon. He can talk the Queen’s English.”

Rachel settled back against her pillows. “How did you meet Lucky?”

“Found him as an egg.”

“Where?”

Siggy spoke haltingly, as if he was reluctant to tell the story. “I had run away and was hiding in the sewer. The rozzers were coming. One of the other boys had ratted me out. I remember wishing with all my heart that someone was on my side, and something rolled against my foot. It was this egg. Lucky hatched out of it, and we’ve been together ever since. We’re brothers!”

“That’s really cool!” Rachel whispered, her heart so full that it was hard to speak.

What would it be like to have no one, no safe haven to return to in a storm? Her family was so loving, so supportive. She could not even imagine life without them. Deep in her heart this thought crystallized into a solemn vow. She would be his family.

Fear not, Sigfried. You never need to be alone again. I will be there!

She felt too shy, however, to speak these fateful words aloud.

“I am so glad you and Lucky found each other,” she said softly. “I wonder what it means that he came from another world? Was that before he was an egg?”

“I don’t know. But I’d like to find out more. What if Lucky has some home that belongs to him?” Siggy spoke with great seriousness. “A family that actually wants him? Not one that throws their children away.”