Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
I walk over to her, lowering my voice. “You say that she was saying things about the school that were untrue. What sorts of things?”
A dark look comes across her face, her body tensing. “I don’t really remember. None of it made much sense.” She looks around her, eyes darting as if someone else is listening in.
“Can you give me an example? I’m just curious,” I add, smiling at her as if that will help her lower her defenses.
“Just strange things like the school was a trap. That’s it, really—the school was a trap, and we were all just flies in a web. She sounded out of her mind, to be honest with you.”
“Sounds like it,” I say carefully. “Thank you very much, Clara.”
She just gives me a quick nod and hurries along her way before I can ask her anything else.
I wonder what else I can find out about Vivienne Henry.
Chapter 10
Kat
“Looks like it’s going to rain,” Paul says, his focus out the library’s ornate windows and not on our textbook at hand. We only have an hour to study up on the Major Arcana before our test with Professor Crane, and we’ve barely quizzed each other on the card’s meanings.
I glance up just in time to hear thunder rumble and see a mass of dark clouds above the row of maples outside, their quivering orange leaves a blazing contrast to the gloom. “It better not,” I say. “I have to ride back home later.”
Paul gives me a quizzical look. He’s the boy who lent me the pencil and paper on my first day of class. That was two weeks ago, and it already feels like a different time.
“You ride to school?” he asks incredulously. He looks down at my dress, which is maroon and high-necked and better suited for the institute. “I would have thought you’d be carted around in your own private coach.”
“Nope. We have a buggy, and I suppose we’ll have to pull it out once the weather really turns sour, but I ride here. Astride too, none of that sidesaddle business.” I kick out the layers of my dress, showing how voluminous it is. The fashion these days tends to be leaning toward a more narrow silhouette, but I never feel as connected to Snowdrop when I ride sidesaddle. I don’t care how unladylike it is that I ride astride. That’s for women in the cities to worry about.
“All alone in those woods,” he comments with a shake of his head, flipping a page in the textbook over and scanning the words.
“Actually, I have an escort,” I tell him. “A neighbor’s kid.”
“Then the kid has to ride all the way back alone in the woods.”
I chuckle. “That’s true. But the woods aren’t scary at all. They’re actually beautiful this time of year with the leaves all turning and the smell of frost and woodsmoke in the air. Darkly beautiful. You should go and take a walk. Perhaps go into town, take a look around. Sleepy Hollow gleams in autumn, like a shiny penny.”
He gives me a steady look. “You know we can’t leave the school. We don’t have the same privilege as you.”
I ignore the frostiness on the last sentence. “Have you even tried?”
Paul glances around him warily. The library is fairly busy at the moment, students studying or pulling books off the shelves. The candles flicker at every desk despite there being no draft in the lofty stone building. I think the collective energy of the students agitates the flames.
“No,” he says, lowering his voice. “They were very adamant that we don’t leave the campus. Not until after Samhain, and even then, we would go together as a group.”
“Doesn’t that bother you that they treat you like children? You have to be at least twenty-five. You could be married with children in another life.”
“I’m twenty-three, actually,” he says, giving me a bashful grin. “And yes, it’s peculiar. But who am I to argue or go against their rules? They give us free room and board, and all we need to do in exchange is learn magic.” He wiggles his fingers in the air.
“Sounds a little too good to be true,” I say under my breath as I dip my raven quill in the tiny vessel of blue ink. Crane was insistent that our writing skills needed polishing too, so he’s making us complete the exam in ink instead of pencil. I could use the practice.
“Still, it’s silly to keep you here,” I add, then groan inwardly when the side of my palm smudges the ink, creating a blue splotch on my skin. “Especially since you won’t remember anything of this place when you leave.” What are they so worried about?
Though I’ve only been attending school for a week, each day, there are more things and rules that don’t make any sense to me. For example, I overheard my alchemy teacher, Ms. Choi, talking about how the linguistics teacher actually has a family back home in India, but he had to leave them behind in order to work here. In general, the school won’t accept those who have family since they don’t allow them to bring them, but I suppose he was the exception, maybe because his family is so far away. Perhaps they want him to forget them.