The Unexpected Enlightenment of Rachel Griffin (Books of Unexpected Enlightenment Book 1) (43 page)

The princess frowned, her pale brow contorting. “The dean told us to wait here.”

“Go! Quickly!” Rachel shouted, furious with Sigfried for not acting immediately and with the princess for balking. “Don’t you understand? The dean didn’t know Dr. Mordeau could turn invisible. If we don’t act, they are all going to die. Mr. Chanson! The students!”

And Gaius
.

Siggy said, “Let’s all get in the Princess’s purse. Lucky can fly us to Drake Hall.”

“Excellent idea!” Rachel cried, just as her broom whooshed in the window. With a cry, she snatched it from the air and leapt on. “Jump in the purse, and I’ll carry you. We’ve got to save them! Who’s coming with me?”

Rachel sped across campus. The wind whipped through her hair, so that it waved like a war banner. Ahead, a stone bridge spanned the moat around Drake Hall, a massive and stark edifice of gray granite. Rachel bent low over her handlebars, her gaze locked on the heavy doors as she sped toward them at tremendous speed. Bracing herself with her feet, she let go and gestured with her hands.

“
Libra!
”

The doors trembled but did not open.

“
Libra!
”

Again, the thick oak trembled but did not swing open. The building rushed toward her, growing dangerously close. She thought of slowing, but the image of Gaius lying motionless on the floor hung before her. He was not going to die because she held back.

Rachel tugged the princess’s purse out of her lower pocket and pointed the opening at the dorm. “Siggy! Open the door!”

“Rachel, slow down!” Joy’s voice cried in fear.

“Open the door!”

“Slow down!”

“No!” Rachel shouted. The stone bridge flashed by beneath her. Only the stairs and the landing remained. “Open the door! As in with a cantrip!”

“But we’re going to hit…”

Sigfried’s voice boomed, “
Libra!
”

The entrance flew open with tremendous force. The edge of the swinging door came directly toward them. In the bag, Joy screamed. Rachel did not so much as twitch. A three-dimensional matrix, like a diagram of the motion of the door and the trajectory of her broom, sprang into her mind. It showed an inch and a half of leeway. Plenty of room.

She barreled forward at full speed. The tip of her broomstick missed the edge of the swinging door by an inch and three-quarters. The heavy oak of the door struck the stone of the building with a reverberating
krong
.

Rachel shot through the opening and into the dorm. Students thronged the foyer. She soared upward, bent low over her broom so as to fly above them. The breeze from her passing sent square black caps flying, tassels aflutter. She darted over the heads of some taller students, her foot brushing the hair of a tall girl with elegant bearing, who screamed. Then, she was speeding down the stairs, following Dr. Mordeau’s path from the princess’s vision.

The staircase led to a large brick chamber where four narrow corridors converged. Four thick pillars supported the vaulted ceiling. The odor of wood smoke permeated the air. The will-o-the-wisp globes were dim and far apart, filling the room with thick shadows. Rachel dismounted and let her friends out of the princess’s purse. Her ears strained, but the thick stone muted all outside sound.

“Where is Mordeau?” she whispered to Sigfried, as he shimmied out of the opening in the handbag. Lucky swooped out beside him, his tail
swishing
through the air. Behind him, the Princess prepared to climb out, violin tucked under her chin.

Siggy paused, head cocked, and then said, “Around the corner of the corridor on the left, heading for Chanson.”

“We’ve got to stop her,” Rachel cried.

Fear raised its smoky head, trying to cloud her thoughts. Rachel let her mind go calm and clear, as if she were flying. The fear remained, but it did not cloud her thinking.

Siggy turned to Nastasia. “Princess, there are two ways to get to that corridor. Straight through here on the left, or go down that last corridor and take two right turns. What would you like me to do?”

The princess’s face paled. She looked around at the brick room, confused and uncertain. “Um…”

“She just cast a spell at Chanson. He’s petrified,” Siggy reported what his amulet showed him. “She’s about to do something else to him.”

“How do you know all this?” Joy asked confused, struggling to get free of the purse.

There was no time to wait for Nastasia to make up her mind.

People could die.

Her handsome boss the P.E. teacher, in particular, could die.

“I am going after Mordeau.” Rachel raced down the corridor the way Sigfried had indicated. She called over her shoulder. “If I don’t petrify her, at least I will distract her. Sigfried, sneak around the other way and free Mr. Chanson with the Word of Ending cantrip. Leave Lucky here. He can tell me when you’re ready.”

“No!” Joy cried after her. “She will kill you!”

Might she die?
The thought did not frighten Rachel.

It did not even disturb her.

The thought that
someone else
might die, because she had failed to act, that frightened her.

Pausing an instant, she looked back and met Siggy’s gaze. Their eyes locked. An understanding passed between them, a mutual resolve.

He nodded.

Rachel nodded back.

His eyes burning with something hotter than anger, Sigfried ran off, heading down the other corridor. Rachel cast the
bey-athe
cantrip. When the crystalline shield glittered like a heat shimmer before her, she moved to the corner.

“Okay. He’s ready,” Lucky whispered a moment later.

Rachel winked at the dragon. Then, stepping around the protection of the corner into the open corridor, she whistled.

Dr. Mordeau stood before Mr. Chanson, who sat slumped over in front of a doorway. The Math tutor spun and gestured with her fulgurator’s wand. She caught Rachel’s spell and sent the stream of blue sparkles back down the corridor. The rebounding spell shattered Rachel’s shield and hit her, freezing her in place. She was stuck in the center of the hallway, exposed.

“How fitting,” the Math tutor drawled, her voice deep and husky. She gazed at Rachel as if she were a curio in some pathetic amusement. “Your father destroyed mine. And now, I shall destroy you. How deliciously ironic.”

Oh!

So, that was why Mordeau hated Agent Griffin! Rachel thought about the eared snake. A puzzle piece clicked into place. Dr. Mordeau must be the daughter of the Serpent Master, one of the chiefs of the Morthbrood captured by her father and his then-partner, James Darling.

Mordeau raised her wand.

Behind her, Sigfried shouted, “
Obé!
”

Mr. Chanson stirred. Then, he had already slammed into Dr. Mordeau. The two of them went sprawling across the hallway. Siggy cheered. Rachel stood absolutely still, unable to move, her mouth still pursed as if to whistle.

From her position, Rachel could see both Mordeau wrestling with Chanson and the chamber where she had left her broom. The princess still stood there, immobile. Her eyes darted this way and that, as if uncertain what she should do. Joy looked to her expectantly, waiting for Nastasia’s command. As the two tutors struggled, Mordeau tore off her outer robe and threw it down the hall. The black cloth writhed and broke apart into dozens of sinuous shadows. Mordeau shouted, “Spread out. Find students with wands. Possess them. Use the wands to kill the others.”

The shadows rushed past Rachel and up the stairs. Joy stared, open-mouthed. Pulling herself together, the princess took Joy by the hand and hurried down the corridor toward Rachel.

Siggy leapt and cheered, urging Mr. Chanson on. Rachel thought of fifty things she would like to do, or say, or suggest Sigfried do, but she could not move her paralyzed lips. Frustrated and impatient, she occupied her time by playing back her memory of the last few seconds.

In her mind, Mordeau’s black snake slithered down the hallway, heading directly for her. It glided over the square bricks that made up the floor, its black tongue flicking, its feather-like ears twitching.

Rachel willed herself to shout, to squawk, to squeak, but no sound emerged. She willed herself to move, to jump, to run, but no limb stirred. She willed herself to cast a cantrip, to whistle a wind, to do anything at all, but no change occurred.

She was frozen, as helpless as a tree before a chainsaw.

The snake continued to move toward her. Remembering back, she broke the obscuration that kept it hidden. She could see it coming for her. She stared at it, hypnotized, unable to close her eyes or look away. The snake hissed. It drew its head back, preparing to strike. Her heart beat quadruple time.

Thweeeek
. The screech of bow on string cut through the silence. Princess Nastasia stood beside Rachel, her violin tucked beneath her chin, her long golden curls blowing around her. Twirling silver sparkles lifted the eared snake and threw it pell-mell down the hallway. As the snake slid backwards, Lucky swept by and leapt on it.

The two serpents rolled over and over, wrestling.

The princess tried the Ending cantrip on Rachel; then Joy tried. Neither of them pronounced it correctly—even though Sigfried had just used it. Rachel sighed mentally. It was obvious to her. She had heard it once. She would never forget it. Alas, that did not work that way for other people.

Mr. Chanson pinned Dr. Mordeau down. She squirmed but could not break free. Relief spread through Rachel. It was over. The villain had been captured.

Gaius was safe.

As Rachel continued to watch, Mordeau’s body began to swell. She grew larger and blacker until the woman was gone, and an enormous dragon rose in her place. It was not a slender ribbon of a dragon, like Lucky, but a huge scaled monstrosity that filled the entire corridor and breathed out a gout of orangey-yellow flame seven feet long.

Oh no.

The dragon’s fire smelled like rotten eggs. Rachel wanted to cough or pinch her nose, but she could not. She wondered how she continued to breathe when her chest did not move.

“Ace!” Siggy shouted. “I
knew
people could turn into dragons!”

Mr. Chanson leapt to his feet and barreled into the dragon at full speed. The flames curled over his body, but not so much as a hair got charred. Rachel suspected that the rest of them would not fare so well if struck by the fire.
Who was Mr. Chanson?
Or rather,
what
was he? How did he do what he did? He was fast as a flame, strong as a giant, and tough as a troll.

Yet, she had yet to see him cast a single spell.

He was strong but not strong enough. He strained to lift the creature, but fifty feet of sinuous muscle and shiny black scales proved too much. The dragon lunged forward and grabbed Chanson in its jaws. He must not have made an appetizing morsel, however, because it spat him out again. He flew backward, landing sprawled. The dragon’s tail drew back and lashed out, slamming him into the wall so hard that he left a Mr. Chanson-shaped hole in the bricks.

Siggy gawked. “He went through the earth, under the moat and came up on the grass above. That’s over a hundred and fifty feet!”

“Is he…dead?” Joy squeaked.

“Nope. He’s moving. Has a pretty big bump on his head, though.”

“Mr. Chanson must be relying on more of the new magic.” The princess grabbed Rachel and began dragging her toward the corner. “He was knocked through fifty yards of rock earth and survived? There is nothing like that in the history books.”

“Not even in True History?” Sigfried asked. To Rachel’s surprise, his voice sounded close by. Apparently, he had come back after freeing Mr. Chanson.

Lucky’s voice called, “Uh…Boss? The snake just bit me. Is that…bad?”

The great black dragon turned its head toward them.

Joy ran. Siggy took Rachel from the princess, swung her up over his shoulder, and lugged her around the corner. He set her down in the side corridor that led back toward the chamber with the staircase. Then he rushed back to check on Lucky.

Her nose itched. Her eyes felt dry. Her view consisted of six bricks.

“Nastasia? What are you doing here? I told you to stay in the infirmary!” Dean Moth’s voice echoed in the hallway.

“Mordeau turned invisible. She was about to kill Mr. Chanson!” Joy cried.

Nastasia nodded. “It is as Miss O’Keefe has stated. We knew that Mr. Chanson had not been able to see her snake. We feared for his life.”

“I see,” the dean snapped, annoyed. “Stay here!” As an after thought, she added, “
Obé.
”

Rachel’s body sagged. She gasped, air rushing into her lungs. Turning, she took two running steps after Dean Moth, but the dean had stepped in front of the great dragon.

She carried no wand, but lifting her hands, she began to chant.

Rachel bounced on her toes, wanting to call her back, to warn her about Dr. Mordeau’s cloak and the danger to the other students. It was too late. Their duel had begun. Golden bands of light flew from the dean’s hands, one after another. They encircled the math-teaching dragon, who breathed fire back up the hallway. Dean Moth gestured again, and the fire curled around her without touching her. But the dragon had already broken the first few bands and was lumbering down the hallway.

The hair on the back of Rachel’s neck stood up. She had never heard of anyone breaking Glepnir bonds.

“We have to do something!” cried Rachel.

“The dean said to remain where we are,” Nastasia reminded her sternly.

“But…we didn’t tell her about the shadows!”

“Shadows?” the princess asked. “You mean the dark shapes that rushed by?”

“They came out of Mordeau’s cloak. She sent them to possess students and kill people,” Rachel said. “We’ve got to warn someone.”

“The dean told us to stay here,” Nastasia repeated.

The machinery of obedience clanked and strained in Rachel’s head. The dean was a powerful and admirable person, who should be obeyed. But she did not know that students were about to be killed—the same way she had not known that Dr. Mordeau could turn invisible. Surely, if she had known, she would have wanted people to be warned. It did not make sense to obey orders given by someone who did not know the situation, especially if the results would be that children died.