Where the Drowned Girls Go(Wayward Children #7)(33)

To be fair, it hadn’t always been. But they’d had an awful lot of fun finding that out.

“How did you lose your name?”

“The … the Rat King stole it when I said I didn’t want to be his bride,” said the nameless girl, voice gone small with pain and memory. “I had to come back here so he couldn’t use it against me. My … Bright said she thought it would follow me through the door, that the Rat King couldn’t hold it if I wasn’t there, and then once I had time to recover I could come home, and we could be happy. But I kept getting smaller, and my name didn’t follow me. One day I’m going to wake up and I’ll be something else. I won’t be me anymore. And I won’t even be able to go to the Rat King for protection, because he doesn’t exist here.”

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” said Cora. “But I don’t think you’re listening to me. I think your name is here. It’s flittering around the edges of the school grounds, trying to get back to you, and it can’t, because it’s being stopped by the same magic that keeps the matrons from having names.”

“Then why didn’t it come back to me as soon as I left?” said the girl, clearly wanting to believe and afraid of false hope. “Why didn’t it come back to me all that time before I came here?”

Cora shrugged. “Maybe the curse needed time to wear off,” she said. “I bet it would have, if you hadn’t come here.” She smiled, quick and tight and unamused. “You came here because you thought this was the best place for you. I think it’s the worst place for you. It’s like being allergic to salt and hiding in a seaside cave.”

“No one’s allergic to salt,” said the nameless girl.

“Shows what you know.” Cora grabbed the nameless girl’s elbow again, pulling her along as she followed the group. “The matrons aren’t supposed to have names. It makes them into individuals. I don’t think the fake headmaster was supposed to say what he did, and someone’s going to have to come and steal her name again. If they don’t, who knows what might happen? Something wonderful, and they don’t want that, not here. Not now.”

The nameless girl stumbled as Cora kept pulling her along. “What does all this even mean? How is it supposed to help me?”

“Easy. If we take you away from here, I’m betting your name will find you fast as a hungry shark, because it wants to be with you as much as you want to have it. But getting away means understanding what’s going on, and you’re small and quiet and fast. Smaller and quieter than Sumi, even, which is a neat trick. So tonight you’re going to sneak out, and you’re going to watch to see how they take Miss Lennox’s name away.”

The nameless girl stared at Cora. “You’re insane.”

“Probably,” said Cora placidly. “Sticks and stones, as the sages say; sticks and stones. I know what I am and I’m happy this way, and saying something true shouldn’t be an insult, ever, because that’s not how words want to work. Don’t you want to leave this place? Don’t you want to go back where your name can find you, whatever it’s shaped like?”

“I already said I wanted to go,” said the nameless girl.

“Good.” Cora bared her teeth in a smile. “Now act like it.”

The group had stopped to study a small, flowering bush gamely struggling to hold on despite the encroaching chill of fall. Cora made silent note of the perplexed expression on Miss Lennox’s face, like all of this was somehow new to her, like she had never seen this trail, or these students, or a flowering bush before in her life.

Whatever the false headmaster had done when he so casually gave the matron back her name, it was waking her up, bringing her rapidly through levels of self-awareness that she might not even have realized she had been losing. Cora narrowed her eyes, watching the woman move. She was jerky, unsteady, like a fawn finding its legs. She was lost.

She had been lost.

Slowly, like she was approaching a wild and wounded animal, Cora skirted the group to stand beside Miss Lennox. “There’s something I’ve always wondered, ma’am. Is it appropriate for me to ask you a question?”

“Of course,” said Miss Lennox, sounding distracted, like everything around her was simply too much, like it had to be absorbed one slow beat at a time. “I’m your teacher. You have to ask me questions if you’re going to learn.”

“When did you graduate?”

“I didn’t,” said Miss Lennox automatically. Then she froze, the animation draining from her face until she looked like a statue of flesh and bone. The girls all turned to look at her, sensing, in the way of bored teens, that something interesting was about to happen.

Miss Lennox clutched the sides of her head and began screaming.

It was a high, shrill sound, like the wail of an animal with its leg caught in a trap, or the screaming of a child who’d just realized they were somehow horribly, inexplicably alone in the world. Miss Lennox dropped to her knees, still screaming. Rowena stumbled backward. Stephanie moved more smoothly. Emily seemed to root in place, becoming an unobtrusive part of the environment. Even Regan and the nameless girl moved, putting distance between themselves and something they instinctively recognized as dangerous.

Only Sumi moved toward the sound. She put a hand on Miss Lennox’s shoulder, bearing down slightly, so that her presence would have both weight and immediacy.