The Unexpected Enlightenment of Rachel Griffin (Books of Unexpected Enlightenment Book 1) (37 page)

Siggy was busy stuffing food into the pockets of his robe. He whispered back. “Not yet.”

“Very well, Mr. Valiant,” the princess said sternly, “put out your hand.”

Gaius did. The princess touched him. Rachel leaned forward watching intently. Time seemed to slow to such a degree that she grew sure she would starve before the next event. Would the princess never speak? Did it seem to everyone as if two ice ages had passed? Or was it just her?

Wistfully, she wished she were the one with an excuse to touch Gaius’s hand.

“You were surrounded by stars in outer space,” Nastasia said finally. “You piloted a ship shaped like a crystal teardrop. You flew toward something that looked like a giant cloud of glitter, maybe a nebula? As you approached, it rearranged itself to form a huge reflective surface. You called it the Mirror Nebula.

“You flew toward this surface. For some strange reason, the image reflected was of your body, even though you were in your ship. Your reflection had flares of multi-colored light coming from its shoulders. Also visible in the mirror was an object in the far distance—a huge metallic moon surrounded by many thousands of these graceful teardrop ships and, something else? Jump gates? Worm holes? Then, the artificial moon exploded.”

A shadow passed across Gaius’s face. “Was it…my fault?”

“Why would it have been your fault, Mr. Valiant?” the princess asked, puzzled.

“I…” He shook his head, setting his pony-tail wagging. “No reason.”

Rachel watched this with interest. Was Gaius from a world of starships and explosions? Was that why he had wanted to be a scientist?

“Thank you, Miss Romanov.” Von Dread inclined his head once more and departed. Seymour and Colleen followed him. Gaius hung back.

“Thank you, yet again, Princess.” He bowed gallantly to the princess. “That was eerie and a bit disturbing, but I appreciate your efforts. I’m sure Vlad will want to perform experiments on us now, to make sure we have not been mutated into alien monstrosities or the like. Hopefully, it will not be too torturous.”

“Is there normally a danger of that?” Zoë asked from the table. Her hair was pink today, though the feather tied into her forelock braid was still electric blue. “Mutating into alien monsters, I mean.”

“Not so far as I know,” Gaius drawled back, amused, “but there is always a first time.”

“Does he normally torture you?” Sigfried asked, intrigued. “Or is it only now that he knows you are a Metacrouton?”

“Only when the pursuit of knowledge requires it,” Gaius replied cheerfully. Rachel could not tell whether or not he was kidding. “Though I had not realized that I was a Metacrouton. Is that a giant bread product for very large salads? Or perhaps a very large bread product that appears in salads meant for giants?”

“It’s Siggy’s term for people from outside our world,” Rachel explained. “Actually, Metaplutonian is his word for people from outside our world, but he has trouble remembering it correctly.”

Gaius turned to her and bowed deeply. “Let me congratulate you again on your duel last night, Miss Griffin.”

“Duel?” Sigfried asked with interest. The whole table was looking at her now.

Rachel lowered her lashes, shy before the attention. “I fought Cydney Graves.”

“And Miss Griffin won, I might add. Very nicely done.” Gaius patted her on the shoulder. “Well, I mustn’t keep Vlad and his torture implements waiting. Have a good day, Rachel.”

As she watched him go, Rachel noticed that Vladimir Von Dread had stopped to speak with Magdalene Chase. The tiny girl’s normally pale cheeks were tinged pink from embarrassment, but she stared up at him, her eyes aglow with hero worship.

So he really was not a tutor or a fool. Good for him.

As they walked to class, Sigfried fell in next to Rachel. He moved until his head was close to hers and whispered, “How did you learn to paralyze people? That sounds totally ace! I want to learn that!”

“How did you hear about that?” Rachel asked, surprised. She was wearing new leather boots today, a gift Sandra had sent from London. The heels made a satisfying
click-clack
against the marble floor. “That boy you just met, Gaius Valiant? He taught me.”

“The one who is about to be tortured by Von Dread.” Sigfried nodded solemnly, as if commending the fellow to his fate.

“I don’t think Dread’s actually planning to torture him…at least, I don’t think.”

“As to how I heard about it,” Sigfried glanced around them and whispered again. “Last night, I was really bored. You were busy, and Seth Peregrine was practicing with his band—he plays bass guitar, and some girl who never talks plays the drums—so he wasn’t available for brawling. Anyway, rather than gouge my eyes out from sheer ennui, I sent Lucky to spy on Dr. Mordeau.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. After you beat her, that Skinned-Knee girl…”

“Skinned-Knee?”

“Yeah, isn’t that her name?”

“Wait. You mean Cyd-ney?”

“Whatever. Isn’t that a boy’s name? Or a town in the Princess’s kingdom? Anyway, after she lost to you, she went to Dr. Mordeau, who questioned her about the duel and about you.”

“About me? Wha-what did she want to know?”

Siggy shrugged. “Mordeau seemed very surprised to hear you were at the club. She wanted to know who had invited you. When Squidkey told her…”

“Cydney.”

“Again with the Whatever.” Siggy formed a W with his fingers and shoved it at Rachel’s face. She batted it away. “When she told her, Mordeau looked even more annoyed and said something about not trusting Von Dread.”

“Von Dread?” Rachel’s voice rose. “What does he have to do with it? Does that mean that Dr. Mordeau disapproves of the Knights? If so, does that mean she is looking out for me?”

“No idea. Mordeau’s snake spotted Lucky at that point, and he had to skidoo.”

“Oh no! If the snake saw him, Mordeau knows he was there.”

“Yeah, so what?” Siggy shrugs. “Most people don’t know he’s intelligent—much less that I can see out of his eyes. If anyone asks, I’ll say he was off wandering around on his own.”

“Oh…good point.” Rachel pursed her lips. “Did you learn anything else?”

“She had another student with her. A blond kid. Older than us.”

“What was he doing?”

“Helping her sort papers, mostly.”

“Must be her student helper—the way I help Mr. Chanson.”

“Student helper, then…but when Squidknee was there, he…did something weird.”

“Weird…how.”

“Well, Lucky said he started petting her.”

“Mordeau let a student pet her? Yuck!”

“Not Mordeau! The girl with the boy’s name.”

“He pet Cydney…pet how?”

“Running his hands over her hair and stuff.”

“And…stuff.” Rachel blinked. “You mean like…
boyfriend
petting?”

“I don’t really know. I wasn’t paying attention during that part. I was counting my coins. But Lucky said that Mordeau stopped him. She said,
‘Not this one. I’ll call you another for that.’
And he replied,
‘How about the one from last time? I liked that one. She was much more satisfactory than the first one.’
”

Chills raced each other up and down Rachel’s arms. “That’s…creepy!”

“Yes. It is creepy.”

“What…could it mean?” Rachel asked, trying to think of less disturbing interpretations than those that first came to mind.

“No idea.”

The morning brought Language, Art, and Math. Again, Rachel kept a sharp eye on Dr. Mordeau, but she did not catch the tutor showing dismay toward either Sigfried or herself. As class let out, the tutor even said with gracious coolness, “Congratulations, Miss Griffin. I hear you are turning out to be quite a duelist.”

Rachel flushed. “I do my best, Ma’am.”

“I am sure you do. Your family has a reputation for producing strong sorcerers. Still, true dueling requires a wand, and that requires thaumaturgy.” Dr. Mordeau gave her a thin-lipped wintry smile. “Perhaps you should consider transferring to Drake Hall.”

In the excitement of last night’s kiss, Rachel had been distracted from her resolution to get herself and Sigfried a wand. After thanking the Math tutor, she rushed back to her room and ordered a wand for Siggy with the money left from what he had given her to buy him clothing. A length of gold with a ruby tip, which would be good for fire magic, seemed perfect for him. Then, she wrote a letter to her father, requesting a wand for herself, silver with a diamond tip. According to the books she had read, diamonds were best for all-around magic. They were also good for casting lightning bolts, though not as good as amber. Then, she dropped by the mail room and mailed both missives. To her amusement, she discovered that Fort Thorn, the young man who worked in the bookstore and the Alchemical Shoppe also worked in the mailroom.

As she walked up the stairs, her steps lost their bounce. Only a day ago, she would have included a report for her father, telling him about the meeting of the Knights of Walpurgis. She would have enjoyed writing it up, commenting on the members, the information she had learned, and the duels.

Now she wrote nothing.

If he would not listen to the things she needed to report, she could not bring herself to tell him anything. But whom could she trust with her secrets? In novels, clever characters trusted nobody. Rachel could not survive like that. She was too young, her heart too vulnerable. Left alone, her many obligations—to family, tutors, friends, and more—threatened to draw her in twenty different directions, tearing her apart. She needed one person to whom she was loyal above all the others—one person to whom she could tell everything.

But whom?

Who would listen? Who would put her secrets to good use? Her father was so competent and wise, but he had recused himself. Mr. Tuck was erudite and profound, but he had not believed her when she told him about the wraith. Fuentes had saved her from the Drake girls, but he had not yet let Valerie know anything about the scarab or who attacked her. Mr. Badger had told her about the Raven, but he was taciturn and a bit intimidating.

Peter and Laurel? Rachel loved her brother and sister, but they thought of her as a little child, unable to take care of herself. If she told them secrets, they would just try to stop her from learning more—as Father had.

Her friends? The princess had stood up for her. But Rachel could not bring herself to swear fealty to Nastasia as Sigfried had done. Her friend was gracious and kind. But occasionally, she struck Rachel as too rigid in her thinking, unable to bend when bending was required. Besides, Rachel was British. She already had a monarch.

What of Sigfried? Rachel adored him, but he was so careless, so outrageous in his behavior. He seemed more like a brother who needed guidance than a mentor. Valerie? She investigated things. She might love listening to observations. But she had arrived at school with a best friend, Salome, and did not seem to be looking for a new one. Zoë? She took revenge upon the girls from Drake for her. She was amusing, but she also seemed to revel in how uninterested she was in much of life. Rachel could not imagine confiding everything to her.

Then there was Gaius.

Rachel sighed. Even at the tender age of thirteen, she understood that making a sixteen-year-old boy the center of her private universe—even if he shared the secret of wishing he lived in Dee Hall—was a bad idea.

After lunch, Rachel took a walk by herself, wandering down along the boardwalk that ran through the hemlocks, beside the creek. Heading south, away from where she had explored before, she came to a stone arch. Through it, lily-of-the-valley carpeted the forest floor, stretching between the great oaks. There were no flowers, but their distinctive leaves rose into points that stretched as far as her eye could see.

Rachel walked through the archway and strolled under the oaks, singing softly:

“
White coral bells upon a slender stalk,
Lilies of the valley deck my garden walk.
Oh, don’t you wish that you could hear them ring.
That will happen only when the fairies sing.
”

Rachel had only twice had the pleasure of hearing the lilies-of-the-valley ring at Gryphon Park. A person had to be up at just the right hour on just the right day, or the flowers bloomed and faded without one ever catching them while the fairies were singing. Her sisters had even worse luck than she did, but Peter, who was more patient, had heard them several times. He camped out one year, so that he would be sure to be there at the right hour. He did hear them, but he came back with his hair tied in so many elf knots that Mother had to shave it off.

Rachel loved hearing the lilies ring—but not so much that she wanted to risk having her head shaved. Besides, she had the advantage that she could play back her memory, and they sounded as sweet as the first time. She did so now as she passed among their bloomless leaves.

As she walked, her feet swishing through the greenery, she mulled over the problem of the snitch. How to discover who it was? The best solution would be to divide up the information at their disposal and give only a little bit to each person—and then wait to see what made its way to Drake Hall. They could wait to do this until they had more secrets, or they could dole out made-up information.

She knew which option Sigfried and Nastasia would pick. Sigfried would be all for lying; the princess would insist on the truth. The question was how to get them to agree on a plan.

So much was at stake. Thinking about it made her heart thump against her ribs. The Earth could be in danger, some terrible future awaiting them—like the fates Nastasia saw in her visions: icy plains, horrendous fires, metallic moons exploding. Rachel knelt on the damp earth and ran her fingers over a smooth-veined Lily-of-the-Valley leaf. She breathed in the pleasant scent. Everything was so idyllic, so peaceful. Yet this glade, this very leaf, would be destroyed if the world froze or burned.

She had no idea how to stop such an impending fate. All she knew was that if the world was in danger, she had to help.