Changeling (Sorcery and Society Book 1)(30)

I was there, in that room, my breath turning to cold fog. Over my shoulder, I heard a tapping noise at the window. Thinking it was that annoying bird from the night before, I turned and saw a gaunt, grey-faced man standing on the other side of the glass, his eyes glazed over and his jaw slack as he pawed at the window. The metal dragonfly on my palms pulsed hot and angry, lashing out at the dead thing watching me. The man became shadow and the shadow became a pair of wings beating against the window.

In my head, I screamed and the light from my crayfire lamp flashed so bright that it overpowered my vision. I blinked back into awareness, surprised to find myself in the solarium, surrounded by my fellow students. And while the other girls’ chunks of azurite were glowing and alive with light, my stone was shattered on the table in front of me. And the girls were staring at me. Right, because I needed one more thing to set me apart for the rest of them.

Callista, to my surprise, stepped in on my behalf. More or less. “I told you to take off those silly gloves, darling. The satin is scrumptious, but you’re turning into quite the butterfingers. Fashion is important, but it’s second to academics, isn’t that right, Miss Selsye?”

“Quite right,” Miss Selsye said, though she was eying me with marked interest. “Miss Reed, you are excused until you are sensible enough to dress appropriately for my class.”

I nodded shakily. “Yes, ma’am.”

I stood, careful not to knock my chair over. Callista simpered, “Bad luck, darling. We’ll see you after class, yes?”

I nodded, my cheeks flaming with embarrassment, as I fled the solarium as quickly as I could. And the rest of my day didn’t go much better. My ritual dance steps were called “heavy and horse-like” by the dancing mistress, Madame Rousseau. My runes were barely legible to the remedial symbology teacher, Miss Chambers. And I hoped to forever block out my disastrous attempts at belomancy, which turned out to be predicting the future by flinging arrows at a coded target. If your arrow landed near a certain symbol, it predicted outcomes like wealth or marriage.

I wasn’t sure what was foretold when you missed the target. Several times. It probably wasn’t a good omen, though.

Miss Morton was the only teacher who seemed remotely happy to see me.

“Difficult first day?” she asked.

“Would mis-throwing an arrow and pinning the hem of Blanche Ironwood’s skirt to the ground, so deeply that it takes four students to free her while she glares at you, qualify as ‘difficult?’” I asked.

“I think the word would apply, yes.”

I groaned and buried my face in my hands.

“It was the same way when I was a student here, Miss Reed. A new girl is introduced to the student body, and it takes a few days for the equilibrium to be restored. They’ll accept you eventually. I would suggest that you stop flinging arrows at them. It’s low on my list of recommended methods of making friends. Especially with attention from girls like Miss Cavill, whom I’ve noticed you seem reluctant to befriend.”

I bit back any potential response. I didn’t want to hurt Miss Morton’s feelings. “Did you have a lot of friends when you attended Castwell’s?”

She jiggled her head back and forth. “I wasn’t unpopular. But my family… we lost any fortune we had long ago, and have even less in terms of connections. So I didn’t have much support here to start, no groups of girls that would take me in on the weight of my name. I chose to spend most of my time in the library with Miss Chance. She was the librarian then, a very kind woman, very supportive of my pursuits. And I hope to do the same that she did, helping young ladies find the books they need to be the best witches possible.”

“Even when the young lady in question doesn’t even know where to start looking?”

She smiled fondly at me, the frizzled curls forming a sort of grey halo around her face. “Especially those young witches. Look at it this way, dear, when journeys have a difficult beginning, it’s generally an easy downhill coast from there.” She patted my shoulder awkwardly and then retracted her hand immediately.

“I wouldn’t know, I haven’t traveled extensively.”

“Neither have I. This school, it’s been my life for almost twenty years. I worked in the Guild Archive for a bit, right after I graduated… but it didn’t work out, sadly. No, I’m more comfortable here. Even when I was a student, I knew there would be no place for me out in the world.”

“That’s… not particularly hopeful, Miss Morton.”

“What I’m trying to tell you, Miss Reed, is that this is home. And you have the chance to make connections I could never dream of. Take advantage. Don’t make waves. If some of the more influential girls want to take you under their wings, let them. Girls like that could open doors for you, help you make the connections you’ll need to make your way in the world. If you can last a few more days, I think you’ll find that you’ll survive.”

“Yes, but will Blanche Ironwood survive?” I muttered.

She laughed. “Go to your room. Get some rest. I’ll write you an excuse for independent study.”

“Thank you, Miss Morton.”

“Any time, my dear.

I managed to find my room without help, slammed the door behind me and flopped onto the bed. I fervently wished that the mattress would swallow me up and keep me from ever having to face those girls again.