The Unbearable Heaviness of Remembering Read online

  Lucky finished his third time around them, widdershins. Like throwing a switch, the compulsion to dance stopped. Her limbs were her own again. Red sparkles swirled around the outside of the circle Lucky had tracked in the snow but could not cross it.

  “Obé!” Rachel made the accompanying hand gesture in the direction of the body-shaped indentation of snow. Luckily, the Word of Ending cantrip took only one hand; her other was still pinching her nose to staunch the bleeding.

  Sigfried both began to move and instantly reappeared as her cantrip cancelled the effects of his chameleon elixir. He had snow in his golden curls and a gleeful look of maniacal delight that almost matched those of their opponents. On his back, he wore Zoë Forrest’s red and blue backpack. That was suspicious. Zoë’s backpack had an entire room inside. What did Siggy plan to move?

  “Quick!” Rachel shouted. “Get them!”

  “Now I got ’em,” Siggy crowed, grinning like a jack-o’-lantern.

  Raising his trumpet, he blew. Blue sparks flew from the instrument, accompanied by the scent of evergreens. They swooshed forward, surrounding the remaining redcap. It stopped moving, standing like a violin-wielding statue beside its flute-playing companion. There was no sign of the other two, the ones Siggy had sent flying with his wind blasts. They had fled.

  “Lucky, ward them!” cried Rachel. “They’re fey! They’ll be stuck in the ward!”

  Lucky flew forward and circled the two frozen redcaps three times, counter-clockwise. Running to join him, Rachel pulled Zoë’s athame from the backpack and drew a circle in the snow with the warding knife, tracing Lucky’s path.

  “There! That should hold them,” she declared.

  “Woohoo!” Sigfried whooped, leaping in the air and high-fiving Lucky’s taloned paw.

  “What are you doing out here?” Still pinching her nose, Rachel put her free hand on her hip and glared at him, even though she knew Siggy could not see her. “You do realize if they catch us out during a lockdown, we’ll be punished, possibly expelled. We’re still on probation for the time we accidentally fell off campus… into Transylvania.”

  “Expelled, ex-smelled, I’m not afraid of them!” scoffed Sigfried Smith. “Besides, they won’t catch us. We’re too wily. And we’re invisible.”

  “That’s not the point,” Rachel replied, realizing that he did not know that she had made him visible. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Getting my loot.”

  “Loot?”

  “From the ogre’s cave. I knew if I didn’t get it right away, the adults would steal it. They already stole the ogre. By the time I woke up in the infirmary after the beating the ogre gave me and sent Lucky back for it, it was gone. After all my plans to mount the head on our clubhouse wall! I didn’t even get any hair so I could make that Anti-Ogre Achilles Elixir.”

  “The ogre’s cave! That’s miles from here—on the northernmost point of the island.”

  Siggy shrugged. “Lucky carried me in the backpack.”

  “How did you get in trouble with the redcaps from the inside of a backpack?”

  “I saw them on my way back,” Siggy tapped his chest where Rachel knew his all-seeing amulet rested beneath his parka. “I climbed out, so I could investigate. I thought they would offer me something to drink, and I could play ninepins and wake up a hundred years later.”

  “Valerie would be a hundred and fourteen,” Rachel observed wryly. “The Wise often live to be two or three hundred, but that’s a long time to ask her to wait.”

  “Oh, good point! Can’t leave my best girl behind!” Looking back at the redcaps, Siggy added, “We’ll get credit for catching them, right? Is there a bounty?”

  Rachel grabbed her aching head with the hand that was not holding her nose. “Credit from whom? Sigfried, if anyone finds out that we were out here catching them, we’ll get into horrid trouble.”

  “Oh. Right.” He slumped, deflated.

  Voices called from the direction of Marlowe Hall. Footsteps crunched in the snow.

  “I hear the proctors coming,” she whispered loudly, running for her broom. “Quick, jump on. And drink another elixir! You’re visible!”

  • • •

  “Libra!”

  The arched window of her dorm room flew upwards. Rachel ducked her head, soared through the opening, and landed. Once in the safety of her room, she breathed in the pleasant scents of cedar and clean linen. The warmth was wonderful, but it also made her feel the depth of the cold she had escaped. She shivered and chafed her arms.

  She had dropped off Sigfried at the window to his dorm room, waiting while he emptied Zoë’s backpack of whatever he had found in the ogre’s lair. Then Lucky accompanied her back to her own room. The sinuous red and gold dragon followed her through the open window, sniffing around the rug in the middle of the chamber. Her cat, Mistletoe, hissed from under her bed, and Beauregard the Tasmanian Tiger lifted his head from his bed at the foot of Rachel and Nastasia’s bunk. Lucky ignored both familiars and snaked off next door to return the backpack to the foot of Zoë’s bed, before the other girl could notice it was gone.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel caught sight of a pair of silver ice skates with purple laces leaning against the end of her bed, conjured skates that, by all rights, should have vanished over a day ago. The skates had been conjured by Laurel but made permanent, Rachel was certain, by the Raven. A happy feeling danced inside her. She felt as if he had given her a gift.

  Lucky returned and slipped out the window, heading back down toward his human. With a sigh of relief, Rachel closed the window and ended her chameleon elixir with a cantrip.

  “R-Rachel?” came a small squeak.

  She whipped around, looking about. Two dark brown eyes and a shock of curly black hair stuck out from under a blanket on the far top bunk. Her roommate Astrid stared down, her expression a mix of terror and relief. Her normally caramel skin had blanched to a dull gray in the dimness.

  “Yes. It’s me. S-sorry,” she whispered, hoping not to wake their other two roommates.

  Now it was Rachel’s turn to be afraid. Would Astrid tell on her?

  Astrid’s head came out from under the blanket, a concerned look replacing her fearful one. Quietly, she whispered back, “Is that blood on your hat? Are you bleeding?”

  “Oh!” Rachel pulled off her hat. Spots of red now marred its pristine white, blotting out the left eye of the hat’s snowman face. Looking in the vanity mirror, she saw that her nose looked a little funny, and blood had splattered her coat. “Yes. Or, rather, I was. My poor hat.”

  “Let me help.”

  Astrid slipped down from her bunk, her long limbs clad in lavender flannel pajamas spotted with pink and blue llamas. She always wore her collars turned up in what Hildy from the room next door called a Dracula collar, but which reminded Rachel more of the collar in a black and white poster of an actress named Audrey Hepburn that hung on the wall of Sandra’s study.

  Taking the white hat, Astrid paused to squeeze Rachel’s hand. “You’re frozen. Why don’t you take a warm shower, and I’ll get the blood off?”

  Gratefully, Rachel slipped out of her coat and followed Astrid’s advice.

  • • •

  In the end, Rachel chose the huge, claw-footed bathtub at the back of the bathroom rather than a shower. She poured bubble bath into the water and climbed into the sudsy tub, luxuriating in the heat. As she stretched a leg to soap it, pointing her toes, she tried to gather the courage to face another day of lockdown.

  One day stuck in the dorm had not been too bad, but two? Rachel was not used to being confined with so many people. Being at school with no classes would not have been so bad if she could have spent the free time with her boyfriend. Alas, Gaius was locked away in a different dorm. Sigfried Smith would have had the same problem, except that the proctors had brought Valerie Hunt over to Dare Hall for a few hours. His girlfriend had been so distraught about his wellbeing, after she saw the ogre beat his head agains
t the ice, that the staff felt she should see with her own eyes that he had recovered.

  Of course, Rachel had been able to speak to Gaius over their black bracelets, and once, they had talked over their calling cards, so they could see each other’s faces. She had loved that. Still, it was not the same as sitting together and holding hands. So she had been forced to make do playing games with her friends, while Gaius spent his time hanging out with….

  Rachel bit off that thought and sighed. What did it mean to be in love with two boys? Her love for Gaius Valiant burned fiercely in her breast. Just hearing his voice made her feel giddy with joy. This she found reassuring. Yet, every time her thoughts strayed to the other boy….

  Rachel pressed her palm against her face, her cheek unusually warm. What a horrid fate!

  She could not help wondering, though, if fate might have had a hand in her current dilemma. Tuesday night, her friend the Raven had—at her request—altered her destiny, giving her the option to choose a different future than what had previously awaited her. As he spoke, Jariel had glanced toward where Gaius and Vlad had been playing hockey. Rachel’s heart jumped like a skater clearing a log. Had she mistaken his gaze? Was it Vladimir Von Dread he had been looking at all along?

  It did not matter. Nothing could come of feelings she might harbor for the Crown Prince of Bavaria. He was six years her senior and in love with her eldest sister, Sandra. Solemnly, Rachel resolved to remain true to her boyfriend. So long as she never spoke of her other feelings, no one need ever know.

  Her thoughts returned to the Raven. Normally, he did not interfere with mortals. She wondered why he had warned her about Sigfried’s peril. Jariel had become very precious to her. It troubled her that he was under the control of the dreaded Master of the World—the mysterious father of the King of Magical Australia, grandfather of her best friend, Nastasia Romanov—who could command the Guardian, forcing him to commit cruel or reprehensible acts, such as change people’s memories or alter their personalities.

  A shiver ran through her having nothing to do with the cold. Cruel acts such as altering Rachel’s parents to make them give up their first-born daughter, Amber, and then erasing their memories to make them forget she had ever existed. Rachel wanted her whole family back together.

  She wanted it more than she had ever wanted anything in her life.

  What she needed was a wish, Rachel decided as she blew into the bubbles. Of late, so many things had gone wrong—many of them matters that she could discuss with no one. A wish, at least, could be made privately.

  That decided it. From now on, she would watch the sky every night at dusk. True, it was often overcast. The storm goblin, the Heer of Dunderberg, had been even more active of late whipping up storms and tossing boulders. If she were patient, however, sooner or later, she would catch the first star of evening which, in her opinion, led to the very best kind of wishes.

  As the frothy bubbles slowly began to sink back into the warm water, Rachel sat up and reached for her soft lavender towel.

  It was time to face the world outside the shower curtain.

  Chapter Two:

  Wishing Thrice Upon A Star

  Gathering the strength to leave the paradise of the warm bath, Rachel slipped into her fluffy, peach dressing gown and pushed aside the curtain. Astrid stood by the sink working on the hat with a cotton ball and a brown bottle of hydrogen peroxide. The red wool coat lay on the counter beside her. It had a big wet spot where the blood stain had been.

  Rachel wiped the steamy mirror with a paper towel. Her nose was swollen and felt tender to the touch, but it did not seem to be broken. She wondered if it would turn black and blue.

  As she toweled her hair dry, she said, “Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.”

  “No problem.” Astrid gave her a sweet smile, her llama-covered sleeves pulled up to her elbows as she worked upon the hat. “My mom taught me how to do this when I was six. You can do it with soap and water, too, but you have to use cold water, so the heat doesn’t cook the blood into the fabric. And a lot of soap, rubbing it in with your fingers over and over. Hydrogen peroxide is much easier. I think she made a point of explaining the whole thing to get my mind off my skinned knee, but it has served me well. My mom sometimes jokes that it was cleaning up after all my skinned knees that led to my interest in science.” She held up the snowman hat, which was again pure as snow. “There, see! No harm done!”

  “Thank you! Oh, that’s brilliant!”

  “It’s the least I could do after you saved me from the darkness and the pixies on the ice Tuesday night. I might not ever have found my way back, not with my hurt foot. I could have….” Astrid’s voice trailed off. She gestured at Rachel’s face. “What happened?”

  “I hit my nose on Sigfried.”

  “On Siggy?”

  “I couldn’t see him.”

  “Oh. That’s a sha—” but Astrid never finished. Instead, a giggle erupted. First one or two, and then waves of giggles. A moment later both girls were laughing, until they leaned over, grabbing their stomachs and gasping for air.

  “Rachel,” Astrid asked, when they could breathe again, “may I ask you a question?”

  “Of course!”

  “A few weeks ago, you and the dean were walking in the hallway with a man….”

  “And you dropped your books,” Rachel recalled, wishing, after she saw Astrid’s face, that she had not said that aloud.

  “Oh, you saw that.” Astrid ducked her head, embarrassed.

  “That was Agent Bridges from the London office of the Wisecraft. Why do you ask?”

  “Um, no reason.” Astrid was quiet for a moment. “I can’t believe you remembered that I dropped my books. How embarrassing. Do you really have a perfect memory? Sorry, I overhear a lot because no one notices I’m there.”

  “No one notices you? I am sorry, Astrid!” Rachel cried. “I will try to do better!”

  “You don’t need to worry about it. No one else notices me either.”

  “But I want to notice you! You are one of the most delightful people I know!”

  Astrid bit her lip and ducked her head shyly, not knowing what to say. She reached out and pressed Rachel’s fingers with her own. Rachel smiled and squeezed back. Astrid drew her hand back, as if that amount of forwardness had been too great an effort for her.

  “And yes,” stated Rachel, “I do have a perfect memory.”

  “That’s an interesting gift.” Astrid leaned forward, curious. “How far back do you remember? Birth? Back into the womb? Before that?”

  Rachel shook her head. “The talent doesn’t develop until we learn to speak. I only recall back to around age two. Mum’s the same.”

  “I imagine it’s an extremely useful talent.” Astrid raised her head and met Rachel’s eyes. “But it also must be at times quite a heavy burden.”

  Many people throughout her life had commented on how much they wished that they could have a perfect memory, and a few had acknowledged it might be difficult at times; but no one had ever offered sympathy with such understanding. Rachel eyed the other girl carefully, but Astrid looked sincere.

  “I suppose so,” Rachel agreed, faintly surprised. “Occasionally it is.”

  • • •

  That evening, she stood with her forehead pressed against the cold window of her dorm room. Outside, the rain-drenched paper birches were so wet that their bark glowed a pearlescent pink. All day, the storm goblin had raged, and the heavens had poured down upon the campus. As evening had fallen, however, the clouds parted, revealing a patch of pale blue. The almanac in her mental library claimed it should be dark enough to see the stars in three minutes. If the clouds would only stay parted, she might catch sight of the first star of evening and make a wish.

  She waited breathlessly.

  Behind Rachel, a gaggle of girls sat in the middle of her dorm room, gathered around a card table playing Chinese checkers. The group consisted of two of Rachel’s roommates plus the five freshman g
irls from the room next door: Zoë Forrest, Joy O’Keefe, Sakura Suzuki, Wendy Darling, and Hildy Winters. While Zoë and Joy usually hung out with Rachel and her roommate Nastasia, the other three were normally part of a different crowd. All the other girls were playing the game, except for Zoë, who sat with her feet up on the table.

  “We’ve been locked in a whole two days!” cried Joy O’Keefe, her mousy brown hair tied up with thin cotton socks. She was a cheerful girl, bubbly to a point that teetered dangerously close to silly. “Does anyone know how long it’s going to take before we can go to class? Or, more importantly, the dining hall?”

  The young ladies had decided to curl their hair. Some had wrapped their tresses around socks, which were now tied into knots, forming makeshift curlers. Others had used spongy rollers Rachel’s older sister Laurel had conjured for them. These rollers would vanish in twenty-four hours, so the girls would not need to put them away. Rachel’s hair was wrapped around rollers, too, though she feared her friends would be disappointed when the curls fell out of her flyaway hair after only a few minutes. Her hair was like that.

  “Yeah, nah,” Zoë said in her faint New Zealand accent. She sat casually backwards on her chair, popping cheese and crackers into her mouth. “I don’t mind having food brought to us. I could lounge here and eat in bed all the time. Plus, we don’t have to go to class.”

  Zoë stretched and stood up. She was the cynic of their crowd. When Rachel first met her in September, she had been cynical yet cheerful. Ever since she had fallen into the darkness between worlds and come back with scars all over her body, however, her cynicism had gained a nasty streak. Zoë’s pixie-short hair and her single, long, braided forelock was currently a brilliant Chinese lantern red. Her braid still looked odd to Rachel’s eye now that Zoë had lost the feather that used to adorn it.