The Fire King (39 page)

She cleared her throat. “Those who claim to have visions are either holy or madmen,” she pronounced.

The Headmistress was clearly taken aback—as much as her patrician facade might indicate. She raised an eyebrow. “As a girl raised in a convent, do you not consider yourself a woman of religion?”

Percy shifted again. Miss Thompson had unwittingly touched upon a troubling topic. Percy could not help but wonder about her faith. Those in her abbey’s order, the oldest of its kind existing in England, had withstood innumerable trials under the Empire. Every novice and sister took fierce pride in their resilience and that of their elders. But Percy, a girl who kept to herself and was left to herself, felt out of place, the colorless curiosity of her skin notwithstanding; her restless disposition had difficulty acquiescing to the rigours of the cloth. Only the presence of a spirit out of its time—such as her Elizabethan-era Gregory—had made her feel at home. Doctrine could not explain the world as Percy knew it. An unsettling sense of fate made her ache in ways prayer could not wholly relieve. Here, outside the convent, she hoped for answers. The scientific bent of the era, in addition to the general English mistrust of Catholicism, was advantageous to her religious vagaries.

But as none of this was appropriate to discuss in present circumstances, Percy debated a proper reply. “I am a woman of …
spirit,
Headmistress. By no means would I commend myself holy. And I’d like to think I’m not mad.”

The raucous shriek of a bird came close to Miss Thompson’s window. The sound made Percy jump. A raven settled on the ledge outside. Percy couldn’t help but notice an oddly coloured patch on the large black bird’s breast. Percy didn’t stare further, lest she seem easily distracted. She waited for Headmistress Thompson’s gaze to pin her again, which it soon did.

“Dreams then, Miss Parker?”

“Yes, Headmistress. Just dreams.”

The Headmistress scribbled a note and frowned curiously at an unopened envelope in Percy’s file before placing it carefully at the back of the folder. Before Percy could wonder about it, the Headmistress continued. “We have no dream study, Miss Parker. A girl like you doesn’t have many options, and so I would advise you to make the most of your time here. It seems fitting your focus should be Languages, however you must maintain high marks in all courses in order to continue at the Academy. Do you have other interests, Miss Parker?”

“Art has always been a great love of mine,” Percy stated eagerly. “I used to paint watercolors for the parish. I also adore Shakespeare.”

A scrawl into her file. “Dislikes?”

“I’m afraid the sciences and mathematics are beyond me. Neither were subjects the convent felt necessary for young ladies.”

The Headmistress loosed a dry chuckle that made Percy uneasy. “There is no escaping at least one mathematics or science sequence. I am placing you in our Mathematics and Alchemical Study.”

Percy held back a grimace. The class sounded terrifying. “Certainly, Headmistress.”

Miss Thompson cleared her throat and leveled a stern gaze at her. “And now, Miss Parker, I must warn you of the dangers of our unique, coeducational institution. There is to be no—and I repeat,
no
—contact between members of the opposite sex. Not of your peer group, and most certainly not with your teachers! The least infraction, however innocent it may seem—the holding of a hand, the kiss on a cheek—will cause immediate dismissal. You must understand our position. Any word of fraternization or scandal will doom our revolutionary program. And while I hardly think any of this would become an issue for you in particular, Miss Parker, I must say it nonetheless.”

Percy nodded, at first proud that the Headmistress should think so highly of her virtue; then came the sting as she realized the Headmistress meant her looks would garner no such furtive conduct. Worse, Percy was sure she was right.

“Classes begin Monday. Here is a schedule and key for Athene Hall, room seven.”

As Percy took the papers and key, she was gripped by a thrill. “Thank you so very much, Miss Thompson! I cannot thank you enough for the opportunity to be here.”

The Headmistress maintained a blank, severe stare. “Do not thank me. Do not fail.”

“I promise to do my best, Headmistress!”

“If it may be of any interest to you, a meditative Quaker service is held Sundays. You’ll find none of your Catholic frills here. But indeed, Miss Parker, the school keeps quiet about all of that, as I am sure you may well do yourself, living in intolerant times.”

“Yes, Headmistress.”

“Good day, Miss Parker—and welcome to Athens.”

“Thank you, Headmistress. Good day!” Percy beamed, and she darted out the door to explore her new home.

Inside the office, Headmistress Rebecca Thompson stared at the door, feeling the strange murmur in her veins that was part of her intuitive gift. Her instincts were never clarion, but they alerted her when something was of import. Miss Parker, her gentle nature evident in the sweet timbre of her voice, had set off a signal. Rebecca now thought about the envelope in her file, “Please open upon Miss Parker’s graduation—or when she has been provided for,” the envelope read.

“I daresay a girl like you won’t find yourself ‘provided for,’ Miss Parker,” she muttered, turning to the window.

She opened the casement, and the raven outside hopped in and began strutting over the wooden file cabinets, occasionally stopping to preen his one bright blue breast feather that indicated his service to The Guard.

“It’s odd, Frederic,” she remarked to the bird. “I can’t imagine that awkward, unfortunate girl could have something to do with us; it doesn’t follow. It
shouldn’t
follow.”

As youths, when The Guard made choices about their mortal professions, it was agreed that a few of them should remain near the chapel and portal of The Grand Work on the fortresslike grounds of Athens. Rebecca and Alexi were the perfect candidates for academia, and for twenty years now had been set upon that path. But the two agreed to never bring The Grand Work upon their students. The chapel aside, Athens was a place where Alexi and Rebecca were known by their students as nothing other than upstanding Victorian citizens providing for the intellectual improvement of the young men and women of London. Athens was the one place where it seemed they controlled destiny, rather than destiny controlling them. And they had fought to keep it that way.

Yes, the secrets of The Grand Work were matters for the world
beyond
the school walls. Their prophetic seventh had been named a peer, and that meant these students were not subjects of scrutiny. No, while Miss Parker did not appear a “normal” girl, and though she happened to spark interest, she was likely nothing more than a child deserving a solid, Academy education.

The Headmistress sighed, easing into her chair as Frederic hopped up on her shoulder. She thought about asking Alexi to come for tea, but she sadly assumed he was steeped, as usual, in solitude, frowning over texts of scholarship, his favorite companions. As predicted, their personalities and desires had not changed when the six great spirits entered her and her friends. Still, their lives revolved around their duty, a reality that Rebecca resented more with each passing year. Privately she wished those spirits
had
taken her heart when they arrived, for it was a terribly lonely destiny, and even their Grand Work couldn’t change that.