The Awful Truth About Forgetting (Books of Unexpected Enlightenment Book 4) Page 7

  Michael Cameron came slouching into the meeting and took a seat by himself about halfway up the table. He sneered at her as if she were an idiot, but then she had noticed that he regarded everyone that way. He did not seem to be friends with any other Knights, and he struggled when dueling. She wondered why he kept troubling to come.

  Outside of the Knights, he also had few friends. He seemed to be tolerant of Joy’s sister Patience, who sat with him at meals. She was obviously smitten with him, but she was so shy that Rachel wondered if he had noticed. Rachel had also spotted him joking around with another boy from Marlowe Hall, possibly his roommate. This other boy looked as if he might be of American Indian heritage. His familiar, an impressive bald eagle, often rode on his shoulder.

  Rachel had been watching Michael Cameron for some time. Partly because he was kind of cute in a bad-boy way, but more because she felt grateful that he had volunteered to be Cydney Grave’s second when the other girl challenged Rachel to a duel during the first Knights of Walpurgis meeting. He had shown courage, standing up with Cydney when everyone else refused to support the angry girl. Rachel had been impressed.

  The entire Cydney Graves incident still made her feel uncomfortable. At first, being hated had taken her by surprise. In retrospect, however, bullies were a staple in many of the novels about schoolgirls that she had read before coming to Roanoke. She should have expected something of the sort. But the outcome of their first encounter still rankled her. What had Salome whispered to Cydney that made the other girl so angry?

  After Dr. Mordeau’s attack, the students from Drake had been subdued. No doubt they felt humiliated that the evil tutor had taken over their minds. Now they were beginning to show their teeth again. Rachel figured it would only be a matter of time until they recalled their animosity toward her. She was curious as to how she would handle herself this time. She felt more confident than she had two and a half months earlier. It might be exciting to have a rival.

  The meeting began at seven o’clock sharp. Vladimir covered the business of the day and then turned things over to William Locke, who solemnly reported upon the death of Tommy Check, the Unwary teenager eaten by the ogre. He warned that this boy been on the far bank of the Hudson and not in the ogre’s territory, like the kayakers whom the ogre had eaten two years before. However, the boy had apparently flown a mundane contraption into the ogre’s cave, so perhaps the creature believed that this counted as a violation of its domain. William did not know how the drone had led the ogre to the young man or what the next step might be. Rumor had it, however, that Roanoke’s Master Warder, Nighthawk, would be visiting the monster to remind it of its obligations. The boy’s family believed that he had been mauled by a bear.

  Rachel’s heart ached with sympathy for the family of the young man. She imagined one of her friends going out for an afternoon by the river and never coming home. The thought brought unexpected tears to her eyes. She blinked them away rapidly, hoping no one had noticed.

  When the formal meeting broke up, Rachel joined the other freshmen in Gaius’s training class; however, her thoughts kept drifting away from what her boyfriend was saying. She wanted to think about mass and acceleration, not on cantrips and enchantments. She tried to share some of her new insights with Gaius, but he reminded her, gently yet firmly, that this was the time for dueling. There would be plenty of time for physics later.

  She tried to follow his advice, but whenever she dragged her mind away from math and equations, her thoughts began revolving around the missing memory of her second cousin. The thought of his lose filled her with righteous indignation. As there was no suitable target for that wrath, however, science shock seemed preferable. Still, she did her best to heed her boyfriend’s instructions and practice sorcery.

  After Gaius’s training session ended, Rachel looked around for a dueling partner. Nearby, Michael Cameron lounged against one of the posts separating the dueling strips, glowering at the world. Rachel eagerly approached him. Curtsying, she asked if he would practice with her. To her dismay, he responded angrily, as if she were deliberately attempting to humiliate him. It took her a moment to realize that perhaps he was embarrassed. It had probably made him look bad when, during her duel with Cydney, she—a freshman who had not yet finished her first full week of school—had blown through the shield created by his bey-athe cantrip.

  Poor guy. Rachel sighed inwardly. She seemed to have a talent for accidentally discomfiting young men. Maybe she should go embarrass Mark Williams more, too.

  She stood, flat-footed, not sure how to recover. Maybe if she pretended she did not understand why he was upset? No, he looked too annoyed for that. Maybe if she lied and claimed that she, too, felt alienated here? After all, many of the Drake Hall folks were not exactly kind to her? Could she present herself as a kindred alienated soul?

  “What, so you won’t talk to me either?” She scowled back at him, trying this new angle. “I thought at least you conjurers would not be prejudiced against us enchanters. Marlowe Hall doesn’t have anything against Dare!” Pausing, she gave him a resentful-at-the-world glare. “Or is it that, being a freshman, I’m not good enough for you to bother with?”

  “Take your pick,” he said with a shrug.

  Turning, he stomped out of the gym.

  Rachel’s jaw dropped. First Freka Starkadder back in October, now Michael Cameron? Was everyone she spoke to at the Knights going to storm out of the meeting?

  Before she could recover, she realized with a sinking heart that someone was standing directly behind her. Not just anybody, either. The very worst possible person.

  Vladimir Von Dread loomed over her. The Prince of Bavaria was unusually tall and built like a young god. His hair was dark with red highlights. A robe of black with a golden swan embroidered on the left breast fell from his broad shoulders. He wore thick black leather dueling gloves and heavy black boots. At his waist hung a fulgurator’s wand of ebony and gold tipped with sapphire.

  Rachel’s insides went icy cold. Had he overheard? Could he tell she was lying? What if she had accidentally violated some protocol he maintained about how students of the various Arts should get along during Knights’ meetings? If the answer to any of those questions were yes, she was about to receive a serious dressing down.

  A frisson of terror crawled up her spine. What if her offense were so terrible that he threw her out of the club? Feeling like a mutt caught eating the Yule roast, she turned around slowly, fighting the desire to cringe.

  Dread’s voice rang out across the chamber. “Who has been showing you disfavor, Miss Griffin? Tell me their names, and I shall deal with them immediately.”

  Eunice Chase, who was standing not very far away, turned red and fidgeted nervously. Rachel, who had been expecting a severe scolding, also began to redden. The prince was coming to her defense? Of course, he did not know she was in the wrong.

  She felt startled and ashamed.

  “That is extremely kind of you, Vlad,” she replied, dearly hoping he would not ask for the names of her imaginary persecutors. “But if I let you fight my battles for me, what will happen when you graduate and are no longer here to defend me?”

  “Valiant will be here.” Von Dread crossed his arms. “By the time he graduates, I expect you will be one of the greatest sorceresses at the school. Only a fool would cross you then.”

  Rachel gasped. That was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her.

  “If anyone is cruel to me, Vlad, I will let you know,” she replied, trying to walk the tightrope between expressing gratitude and covering her tracks. “But I hardly feel it would be sporting to turn people over to your justice for such a minor crime as being less than friendly.”

  “Cameron is not the friendliest person,” replied Dread, “but he has his uses. I suspect, in time, he will become a useful member of the Knights.”

  “I’m patient.” Rachel glanced after the departed Michael.

  As she gazed across the chamber, she pursed her lips.
She was not sure she liked the idea of judging people by whether or not they “had their uses.” Then her eyes widened in sudden recognition. She had years of practice in dealing with one who saw things in such terms. Even as a little girl, she had understood that this was how Blaise Griffin saw the world, but that her grandfather held himself to the same high standard by which he measured everyone else, judging himself as well by his usefulness.

  Turning back, Rachel gave Dread a brisk, business-like nod, such as she might have given her grandfather. His slight nod of acknowledgement in return reminded her so much of her beloved grandfather that it made her heart ache. She bit her lip.

  Von Dread dropped to one knee.

  Rachel’s heart stopped beating and then took off at a mad gallop. Belatedly, she realized that he had knelt to draw closer to her eye level, but that realization came too slowly. She was already breathless and struggling not to lose her composure.

  “Miss Griffin,” his voice was grave and deep, “I have failed you repeatedly this year. I have not protected you from harm, and, due to this, you have almost been lost. I must apologize for my…incompetence.”

  If a wild tiger—six hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle forming twelve feet of precision killing machine—had padded out of the brush and lain down at her feet, accepting food from her hand, Rachel could not have been more astonished.

  “More importantly,” Dread continued, unaware that he had flipped her world upside-down, “I have been working to make sure I have a network set up to assist you, should I be absent. Please take this.” He held out a business card with a long number on it.

  Wordlessly, Rachel accepted the card. Her heart was still beating too hard for her to trust herself to speak. She gazed back at him, her eyes huge and dark, nodding.

  “Do you know how to operate an Unwary telephone?” he asked. “The card has a number you can dial from any phone on the planet. I have asked William to assign a group of people at his father’s company whose sole responsibility is to assist you, in the case of an emergency. If you are off the school grounds, this may help. Nor is the card made of ordinary paper. It has been enchanted to resist damage by the elements. If you are in extreme danger, crush the card. Help should arrive within moments.”

  She nodded, still not trusting herself to speak. Thus, she was unable to answer his question about the use of a mundane telephone. In truth, she did not have the slightest clue. Perhaps Gaius would teach her.

  Chancing a brief glance around the chamber, she quickly returned her gaze to Dread and then recalled what her eyes had just captured. From the looks of surprise—and, among the older girls, pure envy—on the faces of the other Knights, she gathered that they were as shocked by the prince’s behavior as she was. Even Romulus Starkadder, who was usually so politely distant, looked avidly attentive. Rachel examined her memory of the room searching for her boyfriend, curious as to his reaction. To her disappointment, Gaius was in the midst of a duel and was not paying attention.

  Rachel turned her attention back to the kneeling prince, uncertain how to respond.

  Drawing close to Dread, she finally found her voice. “Thank you.” She paused and then asked softly, “Since you have given me permission to call you Vlad, c-couldn’t you call me Rachel?”

  “I…think I should continue calling you Miss Griffin for now. Perhaps things will change in the near future.” He looked into her face carefully.

  Rachel nodded solemnly. She wondered if she should tell him that her mother had agreed to speak to her father on behalf of Vlad’s suit to marry Sandra.

  Vladimir reached forward and took her hand. Rachel stopped breathing. With strong, firm fingers, he solemnly slipped a slender black bracelet onto her left wrist. It was so much like a prince slipping a wedding ring onto a maiden’s finger that Rachel felt light-headed. She struggled furiously not to blush.

  “The bracelet will tie you in to our communications,” he said, still kneeling like a knight of old before his lady. “You can speak to any of us by clearly pronouncing our names. Like a calling card, the bracelet can be used one-on-one or for a group. You will hear our voices in your ear, as if we are next to you.”

  “Thank you!” Rachel’s eyes began to tear.

  Many people had told her to avoid danger or had lectured her about being careful. Until now, however, none of them had taken a single practical step to protect her. None of them had shown any understanding of the realities of her situation—that in this current supernatural battle, she and her friends were the front line. Remembering how she had wished for a protector, she felt such overwhelming gratitude she could hardly bear it.

  Rachel stared at the kneeling, imperious prince as he gazed back at her, meeting her eyes steadily.

  A strange joy bubbled up inside of her. For the first time in her life, she felt truly powerful—as if she need merely whisper an enemy’s name, and the offender would be ripped to shreds by the razor-sharp claws of her personal tiger. The power rushed to her head. Struggling not to feel giddy, she wondered if this were what it would feel like to be crowned queen.

  No wonder Sandra loved him!

  The feelings inside her were so overwhelming that she could no longer bear to stand still. Tossing caution aside, she threw her arms around him, hugging him.

  As her cheek brushed the black poplin covering his shoulder, terror seized her. What if he considered her behavior too familiar and rejected her, humiliating her in front of everyone?

  She need not have feared.

  Vladimir Von Dread’s arms closed around her, returning her embrace. His body felt firm and warm, and he smelled good, very good—like pleasant masculine musk mixed with mountain air. She felt so safe there, within the circle of his arms. She wished she could stay there always.

  She held very tightly, not letting him go. This might be her only chance to do so, ever. After his kindness to her this evening, she felt half-in-love with him. Not, she reassured herself hastily, in an imposing-on-Gaius sort of way, more the kind of devotion a little sister might feel for a heroic older brother. After all, he would be her brother, once he married Sandra.

  He did not push her away but kept her in the circle of his strong arms. Eventually, she released him and took a step back, smiling gratefully. Rising smoothly to his feet, he nodded at her, a slight ghost of a smile still lingering on his lips. Rachel was aware that the two of them were drawing an audience, but, for the first time in her life, she did not care that she was the center of public scrutiny.

  Right then, nothing could have dismayed her.

  Chapter Six:

  The Terrible Truth about Familiars

  “Do you have any questions regarding the bracelet, Miss Griffin?” asked Vladimir Von Dread.

  “Yes,” Rachel replied, once she regained her equilibrium. “Whom can it call? How do I turn it off? Can someone else use it to spy on my conversations? When I use it, does everyone hear a voice come out of it? Or only me?”

  “The bracelet will allow you to speak to myself, Gaius, William, Topher Evans, Naomi Coils, and Jennifer Dare,” he replied. “I believe that Lucille Westenra will have one soon enough. As to the rest, the bracelet vibrates slightly when in use, more so when first activated. I do not believe that anyone can spy on you without it vibrating. Or, if they can, we are all being spied on. I trust that the sorcerers at O.I. have enough skill to make sure no one is eavesdropping on us. And you should be the only one who can hear the voices.”

  “Thank you. That’s very helpful.”

  “While the bracelets are not a state secret, they are considered confidential by the company that created them. It’s for the best if people do not know who is in our communication network. Please do not mention what I have told you to any but your closest friends.”

  Rachel nodded solemnly, “I don’t plan to mention it, but my closest friends may find out. They’re good at discovering things. If they do, I’ll ask them to keep it quiet.”

  He nodded. “I understand your situatio
n. I…have reservations about how well some of your people can keep secrets. But I trust that you can.”

  “I’ll do my best.” She slid the bracelet inside the sleeve of her robe. “Would these happen to be one of the prototypes O.I.’s working on in their quest to develop ‘improved communication methods for the Wise’?”

  “Indeed. Astute of you.”

  Rachel ducked her head shyly at his praise. She peeked up sidelong at the impassive prince. Dread gazed across the dueling strips, frowning slightly at the antics of some of the less-disciplined members. Rachel’s heart began to pound. What if Gaius shared with the prince the letter she had sent from London—in which she confessed to Gaius her secret weaknesses? Vladimir was being so kind to her tonight, but he despised weaknesses. She could not bear to be the recipient of his kindness under false pretenses.

  “Um, about this…” She waved her braceleted hand. “Will you want it back if I disappoint you?”

  Dread gazed down at her again. “You will not disappoint me, Miss Griffin.”

  A wave of nausea washed over her. Lying had recently become her friend, but she felt this occasion called for truthfulness.

  “But you don’t like it when people are…”—she lowered her lashes, trying to hide the crumbling of her inner happiness—“…are weak. I fell apart. That’s why I had to go to Sandra’s. None of my friends have fallen apart, even though some of them had worse things happen to them. I’m just not as strong as they are.”

  She raised her eyes to his face. “I did manage to be totally unafraid while I was paralyzed by the enemy.” She winced with chagrin. “Of course, I was unable to move, so nobody knew…but, inside, I was very brave.”

  “Bravery is not a lack of fear, but acting in the face of it.” Vladimir laid his hand on her shoulder, gazing steadily down at her. “I have no doubt that you have a lion’s heart, Miss Griffin. And I also do not expect you to be unaffected by the many horrible occurrences that you have witnessed. It is acceptable to feel emotion and to deal with them as you need. It is not acceptable to be overcome by them to such a degree that you are unable to accomplish your goals.”