The Unexpected Enlightenment of Rachel Griffin (Books of Unexpected Enlightenment Book 1) (25 page)

Did Sigfried believe he was in an orphanage because someone had thrown him away? How utterly horrid.

“Siggy, I haven’t had a chance to tell you…” She leaned forward, eager to share with him her few secrets, so there would be no distance between them. “Remember the Raven I told you about? I have seen it more than once. It knows I can see it.” She shivered. “Mr. Badger, the head of the proctors, the security guys here at school, he just came and told me that the Raven is an omen of the
doom of worlds
.”

“Does that mean our world is doomed?” Siggy asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe. But omens do not necessarily cause the thing they foretell. Maybe it appears on worlds, before the catastrophes that the princess keeps seeing, and rescues a few people. Maybe our world is a refuge for the survivors,” Rachel said thoughtfully. “The princess did say that the Raven seemed to be in charge of people entering and leaving our world.”

“Leaving and going where?” Siggy’s voice overflowed with eagerness. “And how does one do this? And when can I go?”

At the thought of visiting other worlds—of seeing these distant places, the ones the princess was visiting—wanderlust gripped Rachel so powerfully that it felt like a physical tug. She wondered if this was how the tide felt when the moon pulled on it.

“Me, too,” she whispered, her mouth dry. “I want to go, too.”

“Hello, Rachel.” A wonderfully familiar voice roused her from dreams about rowing uphill on a river of hot chocolate. Rachel stirred and fought for consciousness. A tall man stood over her, smiling—an extraordinarily handsome tall man. He had dark hair and very steady hazel eyes. A black Inverness cloak draped from his shoulders to his ankles. There was an air of implacable calmness about him but also of wry amusement, as if his keen intelligence allowed him to discover humor where others could not.

“Father!” Rachel leapt up and threw her arms around him, hugging him and holding on tightly when she was assailed by a sudden lightheadedness.

He lifted her up and held her against him, his cheek pressed against her cheek. “Are you all right, dear?”

“I am! I am fine!” Rachel cried, delighted.

“I brought you some sweets…from home.”

“Smarties! And Aeros!” she cried. She held out her hands and watched the brightly colored boxes and bars fill them. “And Cadbury Flake! And toffees!”

“Your favorites.”

“I wrote you another letter, but I haven’t had time to send it yet. It’s here!” She fumbled with her pocket, trying to pull out the letter she had written the night before without dropping the chocolates. This only partially worked.

“It is all right. I—”

“No! Read it! It will tell you everything.” She shoved the letter into his hands and stood up on her bed, her body tense with excitement. She watched his face carefully while he read it, waiting for his surprise, for his praise, for the moment when he read about the doom of worlds.

Most of all, she waited to hear what he had to tell her—the answers to all her burning questions.

Ambrose Griffin read the letter and folded it neatly. He spoke very gently in his rich, soothing Father voice that she so loved. “Rachel, I sent you here to Roanoke to learn sorcery and become a young lady, not to work for the Wisecraft. I have operatives for that. What I want is for you to go to school, to make friends, and to learn. I want you to enjoy being a little girl.”

“But…Father…” Her voice broke.

Even with the secret skills she had learned from her mother, she could not mask her desperation. “Wh-what about this new magic? And the attempt on Valerie’s life? Do the Agents have any suspects? What about the Raven? Surely, you can tell me something!”

Rachel’s father gazed steadily at her, his eyes glittering with some emotion. What it was, Rachel could not decipher.

“No buts.” His voice was steady and firm. “I must go. I am needed at a very important meeting. Attend school and have fun. And forget all about this Raven.”

“B-but…I can’t do that! I…can’t! He knows I can see him!”

“No buts,” he repeated.

He leaned over and gently kissed her forehead.

If the universe had been painted on glass—and someone struck it with a cricket bat, shattering it into a thousand, thousand sharp shards—it might have felt like this. Her father’s words snapped the rudder off the ship of her soul. There was no longer a safe harbor against the storm of events around her.

She had been expecting so much. Instead, he had taken the secrets she had presented to him and given her nothing in return. And now he had given her an impossible order. How could she forget the Raven? She could see it. Worse, the Raven knew that she could.

She could not forget the Raven.

She could not forget anything.

She longed to cry out, to explain how wrong her father was, how this was not what she needed, how she could not possibly obey him. But she could not force her leaden tongue to move. She stared at him mutely, as he kissed her gently on the forehead again and departed, leaving her standing on the bed, hopeless, her hands overflowing with candy.

Rachel arrived at the dining hall, her pockets stuffed with Smarties and Aeros. The smells of breakfast filled the air, but she did not feel hungry, neither for omelets nor for candy. She sat with her friends and stared blankly at her tray.

Salome arrived with an air of excitement and took a chair next to Valerie. She leaned forward, gleefully imparting her juicy gossip. “I don’t know what you all did, but high marks! Take a look at Cydney and her friends. Word is that they woke up covered with chicken guts and all sorts of gross stuff. The dorm stank this morning. I can tell you that!”

Rachel glanced over at the table Salome indicated. Magdalene sat by herself, a new bruise on her cheek. Her little porcelain doll stood near her feet under the table, looking oddly alert. A little farther down the same table, Cydney and the other two girls who had attacked Rachel sat with towels wrapped around their heads like turbans. Rachel stared at them with a rising feeling of curiosity and delight.

So, Zoë had succeeded.

What had she done?

“Huh?” Valerie put down her glass of milk, leaving a mustache. “They’re wearing turbans. Is that the in-look in the World of the Wise? If so, you guys are in serious need of fashion CPR.”

“You should see what’s underneath,” murmured Zoë, twirling one finger through her electric blue hair, even her eyebrows and eyelashes were blue today.

“Yes. What is under the towels? I am so curious,” Salome mused, tapping her fingers on the table. “Wonder how we could get them to take the towels off.”

“I could send Lucky over there to pull on them,” Sigfried offered.

He had three plates in front of him, each piled with food he was wolfing down hungrily. Occasionally, a piece of toast or an apple disappeared into the pockets of his robe.

“Could you?” Salome leaned way forward, revealing her cleavage.

Sigfried glanced away, scowling. He reached out and took Valerie’s hand. Her cheeks went pink with delight.

Over by the other table, Cydney Graves gave a shriek as her towel dropped from her head. Rachel remembered back a few seconds. Sure enough, she could recall Lucky yanking on it with his teeth. He had pulled hard and the swath of pale pink terry cloth had come away from her head. Underneath, Cydney’s hair was puke green. The other two towels also came off. The unpleasant color particularly stood out against Lola’s dark skin.

Valerie snapped a photo, her flash temporarily blinding Cydney and her friends. Their resulting shrieks attracted attention. Soon, everyone in the dining hall was pointing and laughing. Cydney and the other two quickly left the dining hall, surrounded by Belladonna and several other girls. Their retreat was accompanied by hooting and cat calls.

Valerie blew over the top of her camera lens, the way a character in a play Rachel had once seen had blown over the barrel of his gun. “That will look so sweet in the
Roanoke Glass
.”

Rachel tipped her chair back and crossed her arms behind her head. Her expression slowly transformed from thoughtful to amused to delighted. Bringing her chair legs forward with a
bang
, she leaned against the table and pulled her elbows around her head, so that her arms hid her face. Then, she giggled and giggled and giggled.

“Thank you, Zoë,” she whispered when she could speak again, wiping away tears of laughter. “That was…very satisfying.”

“No worries,” Zoë mouthed back. “Anything else? More enemies you need humiliated? People you want whacked with a magic
patu
? Relatives who need someone to sleep on their sofa? You would be amazed what people let slip into the cracks in their couches.”

“No.” Rachel’s eyes sparkled. “I’m good.”

Zoë winked. “Mission complete.”

“That was quite amazing,” Salome was still gazing after her departing dorm mates. “How did you do it, Rachel?”

Smirking, Rachel began cramming eggs into her mouth. “Magic!”

Tempted by the lovely morning, Rachel took her broom and flew through the towers and spires at high speed. Her mind grew quiet and alert, entirely occupied with the clarity needed for high-speed precision flying. Finally, panting, she sailed gently back toward her dorm.

As she went, she mulled over the problem of no longer having someone to report to. When she was little, her highest loyalty had been to her grandfather—he had been the captain of the ship of her soul. His hand had guided the tiller of her heart. Grandfather had been wise and canny. He had become duke as a young man, back when having a title truly meant something, when dukes still ruled. He had been a British general, commanding men and changing the fates of nations. His fierceness and his imposing presence intimidated people of every rank.

But Rachel had never been daunted. She had recognized him for the brave and noble man that he was. No matter how he bristled, she responded with unrestrained love. He was often brusque, but she learned the secret to how to approach him, how to not be frightened by his public affectation, how to speak to him in his own metaphors. He had loved hearing her recite things: books she had read, sights she had seen, conversations she had overheard. He had encouraged her to make the most of her perfect memory, and Rachel had loved memorizing things and reporting them to him.

After he died, there had been a period of emptiness accompanied by darkness and a terrible buzzing noise that seemed to come from deep inside her. It was as if her soul had been wounded and would not heal. Slowly, over the next year, her father moved into the void. Father was thoroughly competent yet relaxed, assured, and amused. Rachel loved him dearly, but she did not understand him as she had understood Grandfather. She could not guess his moods the way Sandra could. Yet, Father listened carefully to her, and Rachel had loved him for it.

Only, now Father had failed her.

She could not be angry with him. She understood. Who could blame a father for wanting his daughter to be safe and pay attention to her classes?

And yet, the position of the captain of the ship of her soul was once again vacant.

Rachel had no idea how to fill it.

On Thursdays, her core group had first period free. Rachel showed Siggy and Nastasia the library. She was a bit disappointed that they were not as entranced as she had been. Apparently, not everybody was in love with the very concept of miles of books. She wondered how Gaius felt about libraries.

Seated in an out-of-the-way corner, the three of them bent their heads together. Whispering, Rachel filled the princess in on the happenings of the previous night, both the matter of the wraith and what Maverick Badger had told her.

“I am very pleased to hear of your bravery and that of Mr. Smith. And certainly helping Miss Price is commendable,” Nastasia said gravely. With her pale golden hair pulled back by a light blue ribbon, she looked both regal and as lovely as a summer’s day. “But you should not have broken curfew, and you certainly should not have lied to the nurse.”

Rachel blinked at her in surprise. “But…Mylene Price was being
eaten
by a
wraith
! Besides, I did not lie. The nurse drew her own conclusion from my forehead being hot.”

Nastasia gave her a thoughtful but still disapproving look. “We must always do what is right. Even when aiding others.”

Rachel goggled at her. Then she sat back and crossed her arms, frowning. The princess had a stronger understanding of right and wrong than she did. But was Nastasia right about this? Should Mylene have suffered another night because the adults would not believe Rachel?

In her heart, she did not think so.

Siggy was undaunted. “Right by who? No one told me not to leave the dorms at night.”

“There is a curfew at ten pm—” the princess began.

Siggy cut her off. “No adult has mentioned that to me. And if they haven’t told me, it doesn’t count. Besides, grown-ups only invent rules in order to have a reason to punish children. The key is not to get caught.”

“That is hardly the standard by which virtue should be measured.” Nastasia gazed at him as if he had disappointed her.

“What do I care about measuring virtue, whatever that is? Is it a liquid or a solid? Do you measure it in grams or in yards?” Siggy spat out the paper he had been chewing, adding to his arsenal of spitballs, which formed a small pyramid on the table.

“A knight should be concerned about virtue.” Nastasia pushed her pencil back and forth on the table, frowning uncomfortably.

Rachel did not care for the mulish expressions on her friends’ faces. It was time to change the subject. “Enough about last night. Let’s talk about what we know. The horrid Raven is the doom of worlds. Many people here are from other places. We do not know if the Raven is destroying those worlds or just heralding their doom…but he wanted to send Kitten’s lion away, and he seems to be friends with the lightbringing torture-creature. Am I missing anything?”

“No. I believe that is what we know so far,” Nastasia said. “This vision power is rather frustrating. It keeps showing me things, but the information I receive is worthless. There is no way for me to act or fix anything based on what I’ve seen.”