The Unexpected Enlightenment of Rachel Griffin (Books of Unexpected Enlightenment Book 1) (39 page)

Rachel could do nothing to help, so long as she was pinned beneath her unconscious friend. She pushed the other girl gently. Valerie flopped back, resting against the wall.

Leaping to her feet, she pointed two fingers at her unconscious friend. “
Tiathelu!
”

Valerie’s unconscious body wobbled into the air. Rachel maneuvered her out of the stall and through the outer door into the hallway. She shouted so loudly her throat hurt, “Help! Someone, help!”

By the time she reached the hall, she was panting. Keeping such a heavy object afloat took effort, and she was already tired from her strenuous practice.

The young blond proctor, Mr. Scott, was coming the other way. When he saw the blood, his face went slack with surprise. He rushed forward. “I can help you, Miss Griffin. Sorry, I heard her crying, but I saw you go in and thought it was, well—girls cry in that bathroom a lot.”

He picked up the floating Valerie with ease. He then kneeled, resting her weight on his leg. He held her with one arm. With the other, he took her pulse and checked her temperature, placing the back of his hand against her forehead. He whistled.

A tan terrier came tearing around the corner and ran up to him, panting eagerly. Its little pink tongue lolled from its black mouth.

“Spike!” Mr. Scott commanded. “Go for help!”

The dog turned and raced away.

Talking mostly to himself, he murmured, “Shock. Low blood pressure, I think. And she’s very cold. Did you see what hit her? How long has she been bleeding?”

“I don’t think anything hit her, sir.” Rachel spoke rapidly but with great precision. “Someone messed with her memory. What can I do to help? Should I get Nurse Moth?”

“I’ve already sent my familiar for the nurse. She should be here soon,” he said. “Was this young woman awake when you found her? Was she laying down or upright or standing?”

He went on to ask her a series of questions. Had Valerie been awake when Rachel found her? Had she been sitting up or lying down? What was the cause of bleeding? Rachel told him everything she knew, what had happened, about Valerie’s memory, her visit to the Wisecraft office, and the new geas.

Nurse Moth came flying around the corner on an orange and white Flycycle, carrying a small bag. She leapt off and knelt beside Valerie, clucking with concern, a decidedly French noise. Pulling her flute from the bag, she knelt beside her patient and began to play. The music was eerie and yet comforting, reminding Rachel of flying her broom through newly-budded leaves with the smell of crabapple blossoms in the air. Green sparkles swirled out of her instrument and passed over Valerie’s face. The blood flowing from her nose slowed noticeably.

Lowering the instrument, she murmured, “Miss Griffin, reach into my bag and find the clean cloth. Then dampen it and wipe off Miss Hunt’s face for me? Please be gentle,
cherie
.”

Eager to help, Rachel found the cloth right away and ran back to the ladies room. Turning on the warm water, she thrust it under the faucet. Then, she ran back. Kneeling beside her friend, she wiped the blood from the other girl’s face.

Nurse Moth lowered her flute and drew a small crystal vial out of her bag. Unstopping it, she asked Mr. Scott to hold Valerie firmly. An odor both pungent and sweet filled the air, reminding Rachel of currant preserves. Opening her patient’s mouth and lifting her tongue, the nurse let a drop of the healing elixir fall from the glass rod attached to the stopper. Valerie’s breathing became less raspy.

With the nurse’s approval, Mr. Scott picked her up and carried her to the infirmary.

Rachel remained entirely calm during the emergency. As soon as it was over, her whole body began to tremble. Her legs wobbled. Her hands shook. She felt like a sapling in gale-strength winds, every leaf and branch shaking.

She followed Mr. Scott and Nurse Moth into the brick and columned building that was the infirmary. Inside, her boots clicked against the green marble. Chimes jingled. The air held the mingled sweetness of sandalwood and the sharp tang of disinfectant. The bright flame-colored curtains swayed in the breeze. While the proctor put Valerie in a bed, Nurse Moth sat Rachel down in a wicker chair near the fountain. She filled a glass with the gurgling fountain water and handed it to Rachel.

Rachel sipped from her glass. It tasted unusually good: crisp, cool, and refreshing. The liquid inside rippled from the unsteadiness of her fingers.

“Um…if you think she is going to wake up soon, I’d like to stay.” She looked up plaintively. “Otherwise, could I have a pass to get out of True History. I…think I am too upset to go to class.”

“Thank you for your assistance,
cherie
.” The nurse smoothed Rachel’s hair, much of which had escaped again and floated wispishly about her face and shoulders. “Why don’t you relax here and finish your water. The Proctors may have some questions for you.”

A short time later Mr. Fuentes showed up, along with Mr. Gideon, whom the dean had apparently sent for. So much for True History; even her tutor was not in class. The handsome Fuentes winked at Rachel as the two of them crossed to Valerie’s bed. She managed a shaky smile back.

The door swung open again, and Jacinda Moth, the Dean of Roanoke Academy, entered the infirmary. The dean was short and stocky with a shock of ear-length white hair. She moved with purpose and an air of brisk command. Rachel had never met her, but she instantly recognized her. The dean joined the others, and they spoke together in hushed tones.

Rachel sipped her water slowly. She wished Siggy were here with his amulet so he could tell her what they were saying. Leaning back, she opened the books in her mental library and took out the puzzle piece-shaped clues she kept inside. A few snapped together: Valerie had been geased. That much was clear. If she were really the snitch, then whoever had done this to her knew children in Drake Hall. Was that how Gaius had come to hear about the new geas spell? Was the princess right about him? Did he know who was behind abusing Valerie?

The thought made the water in her cup slosh.

The dean walked over and squatted down in front of Rachel. “Hello, Miss Griffin. I am Dean Moth. We have not met before, but I know your family. I am sorry to see you in the infirmary again so soon. The school year is only five days old, and this is your third visit.” Her white bushy eyebrows arched upward, giving her blunt, round face an expression of wise inquiry that communicated both kindness and suspicion born of decades of dealing with conniving students. “I cannot help wondering if you are trying to beat the old record set by James Darling for number of visits to the infirmary in one week.”

Rachel giggled slightly. Then, she said haltingly, “Valerie…she wanted her mum. Is there any way to send for her?”

“I will send for her.” The dean patted Rachel’s arm. “Miss Griffin, we have a few questions for you. Please wait here for now. I can send someone to get your books if you wish.”

“O-okay. I’d rather go…but if you need me, I’ll stay.”

“I will send for your friends, Mr. Smith and Princess Nastasia, right? Do you know if Miss Hunt spent time with any other students besides the younger Mister Iscariot, Miss Iscariot, and Mister Warhol?”

Rachel’s lips parted. The dean, who had the upper school and the college to run, had taken the time to discover who her friends and Valerie’s were? No wonder Dean Moth was known as the greatest dean alive.

A lump formed in Rachel’s throat. She struggled not to cry.

“Mr. Smith is her…her particular friend,” she said in a very small voice. She hoped she was not getting Valerie into trouble. She was uncertain whether freshmen were supposed to have boyfriends. “Also, she might want her familiar. It’s an elkhound named Payback.”

The dean nodded. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Miss Griffin?”

Rachel traced one of the black veins running through the green marble with her toe. Then, she blurted out, “Dean…Ma’am…could you possibly…could you ask Gaius Valiant to come by? When he’s done with class and being tortured by Mr. Von Dread, I mean. I…I have a question I need to ask him.”

“Yes, I will ask him to come.” The dean looked as if she was going to ask Rachel a follow-up question. Perhaps what a freshman girl from Dare wanted with a senior boy from Drake Hall. Or maybe why Vladimir Von Dread would be torturing a fellow student. Though from the dean’s expression, maybe such conduct on Von Dread’s part was not particularly unexpected. Whatever it was, the dean thought better of it.

Nodding to Rachel, she left to join the nurse and the proctors. They spoke for a short time. Then, Mr. Scott departed, followed soon after by Mr. Fuentes and Mr. Gideon.

The nurse fretted over Valerie, playing first one song and then another. The music was restful to the ear and the accompanying scent of warm fortifying chicken soup. Sparkles of light, the color of sunshine through leaves, swirled out of the nurse’s flute and surrounded her patient. Rachel associated that particular shade of green with songs her mother had played for her when she had been ill as a child. It brought back comforting memories of being snug in her pink canopy bed surrounded by her stuffed animals, with a cup of warm milk steaming beside her.

She wished she were back in that bed now. Nothing bad ever happened there. Murderers did not stalk young girls. Blood did not spurt all over friends’ faces. Bullies did not deform her with magic. Fathers did not let their daughters down. Never. Ever.

Who was she going to tell about all this, now that she could not report to her father? What was the use of having a perfect memory to record all the facts, if no one wanted to hear about them? The last thought seemed petty compared to Valerie’s troubles, but the wound it left on her heart was deeper than the rest.

A familiar warmth rubbed against her leg. Looking down, Rachel found the tiny lion looking up at her expectantly, its golden eyes full of warmth and wisdom. Rachel knelt and hugged the little beast. Comfort radiated off it like heat from a fireplace. Rachel began to cry. Silent tears ran down her cheeks. She wiped them on the Lion.

He batted at her nose with his paw.

Rachel rested her forehead on the Lion. The little beast purred like a cat. She could feel its body vibrating. It licked her face once. Its breath was very warm and smelled wonderfully sweet, like honeysuckles after a spring rain. When its rough tongue touched her cheek, the terror holding her chest prisoner unwound, melting away like ice around a spring bulb.

Her lips parted in a sigh of relief and gratitude.

An image rose up before her mind’s eye of the woods beyond Stony Tor, on the far side of the wall of trees that made up the wards of the school.
Rising up out of the center of that forest was a gorgeous old oak tree. It was noticeably taller than the trees around it.

Coming back to herself, Rachel blinked. This was her first vision. She did not know what it meant. It was not something earthshaking or a journey to another world, like the princess’s, but it cheered her and brought an unexpected sense of hope. Rachel petted the Lion, all the way from its head to its tufty tail. She rubbed her nose against its cheek. She felt better—until she remembered the question of whether or not Gaius knew about Valerie and the geas spell.

Then she felt shaky again.

The Lion spoke in a powerful and calming voice that reached deep inside her and lifted her spirits.
“Even in the darkness, the spirit of humanity burns brightly. When surrounded by evil, the good will show all the greater. If you meet a man, and he is lost, take his hand. Show him the way. You see the path and walk it already. Some just need to hear the sound of their footsteps upon the path to know it is different than the woods.”

Awe caught away her breath.

But what did it mean?
Rachel climbed back into her chair and picked up her glass of water. Did the Lion mean that Gaius was evil but could be saved, if she did not give up on him? Or did he mean something else entirely?

The Lion batted at some dust.

The door opened with a jangle. Gaius strode through it. His gaze fell upon Rachel, sitting on her chair with her glass of water. His cheerful smile faltered. The dean waved him over and spoke with him briefly. Then, he walked over to Rachel, his footsteps echoing. He knelt in front of her and put his hand on her arm, his brow furrowed with concern.

Her skin tingled where his fingers touched her.

“What’s going on?” he asked earnestly. “You look upset. Were you attacked?”

Rachel tried to speak very calmly. “No. I am okay. Gaius…Did you know…when you told me about the new kind of geas…did you know about Valerie?”

He frowned. “Know what?”

“That she was under this geas?”

“No, I didn’t know! I swear!”

“Wh-what do you know?”

“I-I just knew that there was some new spell. A more advanced version of the old geas that can control you. I…can’t tell you who I heard about it from. I am sorry. But I am almost a hundred percent sure the person who told me did so because he is trying to figure out if anyone was under it. I do not think he knows how to cast it. I also don’t think he would cast it if he did…Well, I hope he wouldn’t…”

Relief rushed through her like runners in the final meters of a marathon, leaving her weak. He looked so sincere and so worried. She no longer worried that he might be lying.

Inclining his head toward where Valerie lay in bed, Gaius whispered, “Is she going to be okay? I don’t understand. I hadn’t heard that a geas could actually hurt you.”

“She tried to remember…tried really hard. When I found her, blood was coming out of her nose…lots of blood. She…she might have died if the little Lion hadn’t come and got me.”

“Little lion?” He blinked twice. “I don’t even know what to think of all this. She must be very clever. I thought geases weren’t something you could break yourself. I…am impressed. And confused. And slightly terrified.”

“I am glad you told me about it, or I would not have understood what was happening.”

“Someone actually cast a geas on a student?” Gaius talked a little too quickly. His voice rose as he grew more alarmed. “Why would they bother? And why on her? Does this mean the people who cast it on her are different than the ones who tried to kill her? Or was it the same people, and they decided she needed to die even though they had enchanted her? Was she no longer of use to them?”