The Unexpected Enlightenment of Rachel Griffin (Books of Unexpected Enlightenment Book 1) (35 page)

But…

First of all, she was thirteen, a year younger even than Valerie and Sigfried. While there were a few students in her year who had boyfriends, such as Salome, most freshman girls did not. Many girls were not allowed to date until they were sixteen or older. At nineteen and twenty-one respectively, her sisters Laurel and Sandra still did not have steady boyfriends.

Second, Gaius was an older boy. Older boys were scary. They expected things. Things no thirteen-year-old girl wanted to do. Rachel knew she was not ready for any of those things yet. Even the idea of snogging terrified her.

Third, he was a thaumaturge from Drake Hall. They were reputed to be unscrupulous. The reputation might be unwarranted in this case, but what would her family think?

Fourth, he was a commoner. That might not matter to most people, but, again, Rachel was not certain how the family of The Duke of Devon might respond.

Fifth, there was the brother factor. She did not want to date a boy of whom her brother had not approved, and she could not imagine Peter wanting to see his baby sister in the company of an older commoner from Drake. Still, if Gaius really liked her, he could petition Peter for his permission. The thought of him doing so delighted her.

Finally, much as she liked Gaius, Rachel was not entirely sure this was the boy she wanted. She still felt giddy when she thought about John Darling—as horrid as he had been—and there were a great many other boys at school. What if she started dating this one and discovered she preferred someone else?

That could be painful.

Rachel sighed and dipped downward, skimming so close to the hemlocks that she could breathe in their pungent evergreen scent. Diving lower, she shot between the trees, maneuvering around the trunks at breakneck speed. Her hair tugged free of its barrettes. She laughed joyfully, racing her broom against the wind.

Eventually, she slowed down and hovered among the hemlocks. The sky was aglow with dawn light now, all golden and fiery red. Watching the sunrise through the branches, it occurred to her that the statue with the wings must be nearby. She sped off to look at it again.

It took her much longer to find than she expected. She went too far, skirting near the line of trees that made up the wards of the school. Beyond, the tor rumbled, as if the imprisoned Heer of Dunderberg and his lightning imps were playing at a giant game of nine pins. After searching vainly, she flew above the trees and used her memory to retrace her path from that first morning. Even so, she did not see it until she tried searching while remembering back. Apparently, this area was veiled by its own obscuration. She wondered why. The place was in the deepest part of the forest, bordered by the creek and steep rocks. It would be nearly inaccessible by foot.

Spotting it, she wove through the trunks, landing where she had landed the first day. Only, this was not the right statue. Hopping on her broom again, she circled the area three times, but she could not find any others. Slowly, she returned to where she had started.

She gazed around her, comparing this wingless statue and its surroundings with what she had seen last time, an eerie tingle running up and down her spine. The glade looked the same. There was still a split pine growing to the left, a rounded granite boulder to the right, and above, the bough upon which the Raven had perched. Nervous, she thought back a moment, but no great black bird sat brooding on the branch.

She drew closer to the statue. It was the same feminine form, draped in stone robes. The moss on the cheek still reminded Rachel of tears.

But…

Where were the wings?

Had someone broken them off? Her stomach lurched. She hurried around behind the statue. No. The back was as weathered and lichen-covered as the rest, as if it had been thus for decades. She ran her fingers over the cold stone but could find no rough or broken spot.

Rachel stared at the statue, blinking. Had she imagined wings?

Had she dreamt wings?

Had there ever been wings?

Carefully, she recollected her previous visit. The winged statue gazed back at her from her perfect memory, sorrowful and wise.

The hairs stood up along the back of her neck. There had been wings. They had been here.
She remembered.

How could they be gone, leaving no trace?

By the time Rachel arrived back in her room, Kitten and Astrid had left for breakfast. The princess sat on a chair in front of her vanity. She tugged on her tortoise-shell hairbrush, which was tangled in her long, pale golden locks. It looked quite painful. Rachel winced, but the princess did not whimper or cry. Her perfect lips merely arranged themselves into a slightly dissatisfied moue.

“May…I help?” Rachel approached her tentatively.

Nastasia gave her a grateful look. She said apologetically, “At home, there were many servants. I…have never had to brush my own hair before.”

Rachel’s eyebrows flew up, but she pressed her lips shut so as to squelch any comment. She, too, lived in a household maintained by
bwca
,
bean-tighe
, and servants. Her mother had not allowed her daughters to rely too heavily on their lady’s maids. It had been one of the few battles her mother had won in the days when Grandmother Griffin had still been the duchess and the ruler of Gryphon Park. There had been a time when Rachel had resented this, wishing that she could have been waited on like a lady of old. Now she had occasion to feel grateful for her mother’s foresight.

She disentangled the brush from the princess’s silken locks and gave her golden hair a few gentle strokes, smoothing out the mess. She started to continue brushing it but paused. If she did it for her today, Nastasia would be in the same predicament tomorrow.

Rachel handed the princess her brush back and then fetched her own. Pulling out what barrettes the wind had not already stolen, she let down her hair. It formed a dark fringe across her upper back.

“Okay. You hold the brush like this.” She held up her hand, demonstrating. “And you put your head like this.” She tilted her neck this way and that, showing the other girl how to reach the various portions of her hair. “With longer hair, you can put it over your shoulder, like this.”

Nastasia tried it, moving her brush very cautiously. When it did not get snared, her hand sped up. She brushed her hair with long, firm strokes.

“I believe I have it!” The princess’s face broke into a sunny smile, pleasure chasing away the clouds of dismay.

Rachel grinned. “Oh! And if you want to comb it, you comb it from the bottom up.”

“Excuse me?” Nastasia looked baffled. “How…I am not sure what you mean.”

“Like this.” Rachel ran and got her comb. “See. If I start at the top of my head, the comb gets stuck in the first tangles. If I try to just push through, I tighten the tangles. If I keep yanking on it, I’ll probably pull out some hair by mistake. Ouch!

“Instead, you start at the bottom—the first couple of inches—and comb downward, untangling one knot at a time. They come out more easily when you pull from below than when you push from above. Then, you move your comb up to the next knot. By the time you reach your scalp, you’ve removed the knots, and you can comb it freely. Like this…”

It took Rachel several minutes to get her hair tangle-free. Her hair was straight and black but lacked the thickness of her Korean ancestors. Each individual strand was thin and wispy, like her paternal grandmother’s. Her hair was always escaping from whatever she used to restrain it. In the winter, when the static electricity increased, it became nearly impossible to manage.

The princess watched her at first. Then, she caught on and followed suit, carefully teasing out the knots in her pale golden tresses. Soon, both girls could freely comb their hair.

“See…not so hard.” Rachel grinned happily. “It just takes a little getting used to. You’ll be a pro in no time.”

“I thank you.” The princess ran her brush through her hair again and again, until it shone like silk. She beamed with pleasure. “You have been of great help to me this day.”

“You are most welcome,” Rachel replied gallantly.

The princess put her brush and comb away. As she did, Rachel caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror above the vanity. Her newly-brushed hair, clipped back with a large black and white polka dotted bow, looked neat and orderly for a change.

She wondered shyly if Gaius would think she looked cute.

“Breakfast next.” The princess picked up her ubiquitous textbook.

The two of them went outside and down the gravel path toward Roanoke Hall. The leaves on the white birches were beginning to fall. Splashes of bright yellow dotted the path. Clouds were moving in, forming castles in the blustery sky.

“How are you enjoying school?” Rachel asked as the stones crunched beneath their feet.

Nastasia petted her Tasmanian tiger and sighed. “I find it enjoyable but wearying. I had not realized there would be so many people. Or rather, I knew the number of the student body, but I did not realize so many of them would expect things from me. No matter where I go, there seems to be someone who expects something from me. Frankly, most of the time, I can’t figure out what it is. Occasionally, I wish I could go somewhere a bit more private.”

Rachel listened with interest. It
had
been relief she had caught on the princess’s face when she dismissed the gaggle of students following her in the dining hall. She marveled how graciously her friend bore these impositions, not revealing by so much as a hint to those who clamored for her attention that they were a burden. A warmth spread through Rachel, a secret, quiet happiness born from the knowledge that, in Nastasia’s mind, she, Rachel, was a real friend and not part of the demanding crowd.

“There are a lot of people,” agreed crowd-shy Rachel with great sympathy.

She considered telling the princess about her empty hallway, with the suit of armor and the doorstop, but balked. She knew from experience the advantage of having a place no one else knew about, where she could retreat if she wished time to herself. If she told Nastasia, someone would know to look for her there. Besides, Nastasia had a whole house in her purse into which to retreat if she wished privacy.

A slight, happy smile touched Rachel’s lips. One person knew about her hallway, of course, but she did not count him.

“Then there is all this free time.” The princess frowned, spreading her hands as if to indicate extra time. “I don’t know what to do with it.”

Rachel, who found her day quite crowded between classes, helping Mr. Chanson, and after-class activities, frowned at her, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“At home, everything is scheduled for me.”

“Everything?” Rachel asked, utterly aghast. “All your time?”

“How else is one to learn the things required of one’s royal role?” Nastasia asked. “In addition to my scholastic studies, there was dancing, music—several different instruments—art, strategy, penmanship, tennis, diplomacy, protocol, and law. All things princesses must know to prepare us for what our futures might require of us.

“When I was not with a tutor, I was studying, or appearing at formal court functions. I never had to decide about how to spend my time because something was always expected of me. I never had to make decisions about anything.

“Now, I am not sure how to choose what to do, except to copy the thing we did at home: organize social gatherings. At home, it would have been a charity tea or a meeting with diplomats’ wives. Here I am considering a study group and a practice club.”

The idea of having someone tell her how to spend all her time made Rachel’s chest constrict. She jumped up and down on the gravel path, trying to shake off the feeling of breathlessness.

“Wow,” Rachel murmured. “I was exactly the opposite. At home, all my time was my own.”

“Did you not have studies?” Nastasia watched her antics with a mixture of puzzlement and amusement.

“Oh, I learned the things aristocratic girls must know, which was a rather similar list to yours.” Rachel waved her hand. “Dancing, singing, needlework, riding, farming, accounting. The things you need to know to run an estate. But with the exception of a few dance and music classes—oh, and I took gymnastics—I was left to myself.”

“What about your studies?” Nastasia asked again.

“My parents realized that I learned much faster on my own. So they turned me free in the libraries—between Gryphon Park and Gryphon-on-Dart we had a number of very nice ones.

“My life was exactly the opposite of what you describe,” Rachel mused. “It was a constant series of decisions: should I study grammar or mathematics? Should I study now or ride my pony? Should I ride my pony or fly my broom? Should I trust in the levers to avoid the upcoming pillar, or throw my weight to the right? The hardest thing about school, for me—other than the enormous numbers of people—is not being able to choose what to do when.”

“But…” Nastasia shook her head as if she could dispel the madness that had been Rachel’s life. “How could your parents tell if you were progressing? What was to keep you from spending all your time on frivolous pursuits?”

“Every Friday, I met with Mother and told her what I had learned during the week,” Rachel assured her. She did not explain she could recite back what she learned in complete detail, or that her mother, who shared the same gift, could listen to her recitation at high speed.

“Oh. Well. I guess that was all right then. Your mother would have noticed if you had shirked your studies.”

Rachel replied primly, “If I had been the sort of person who shirked my studies, my parents would not have dismissed my tutors.”

They walked along in silence. Rachel wondered if she should tell the princess about the statue and the disappearing wings. It sounded so crazy. Before she could decide, the princess laid a hand on her arm.

“Rachel, you have done me a kindness, so let me do you one in return.”

Rachel looked at her hopefully. “Yes?”

“Let me pass on a warning,” the princess spoke solemnly, leaning closer. “That young man you left the dining hall with last night? You should not associate with him. He does not have a nice reputation and is known to belong to a bad crowd.”