if it ever rains in this world.
Keva’s already awake, adding the final touches to her makeup. She admires her work in the mirror, then sighs. “I wish I had dimples. Then my cheeks wouldn’t look so fat.”
I drown my laughter in my pillow as she puts her mirror down.
“Well, toodles,” she says before strutting out.
With a start, I hear the last peal of the bells echo through the arched windows—I’m oh-so-very late. I let out a slew of curses, struggle to get dressed, and sprint out of the dorms. I skid around a corner, nearly run a servant down, then beeline through the outside gardens to the church.
I try to make an inconspicuous entrance, but the door squeaks as I shut it, and the eyes of all the teachers standing at the back swivel around to stare me down. Hunching, I make my way to the freshmen pews—or the pages’ section, as everyone keeps reminding me.
I find Jack in his usual spot, but no Bri here this time to greet me, and of course, Owen’s absent too.
“I heard you got in trouble again,” Jack whispers to me as I sit between him and Keva.
“That girl hates me,” I whisper back, “and for no reason.”
“You talked smack to her face.”
“She was bossing me around!”
“She has every right to,” Jack says. “She’s a knight.”
“Yeah, thanks, I’ve learned my lesson,” I mumble, tracing the school crest embroidered on my jacket’s front pocket. “Cross and shield for squire, add a sword, and you’ve got yourself a knight. I know now. Still, it doesn’t make it right.”
“I know it’s not always easy to tell,” Jack adds after the Credo is sung and we resume our seats, “but there’s a trick.”
“What is it? The size of their heads?”
“The more rings and earrings they wear, the higher ranked they are,” Jack replies. “Usually.”
“Well in that case, I’ll just get some of these practice rings Ysolt hands out. If that’s all it takes for Jennifer to be entitled to act like a bitch, there’s no reason I can’t do the same.”
“Nice try,” Jack says, “but you’re only allowed to keep those oghams you capture, or family heirlooms.”
I sigh. There goes my brilliant idea.
“So where’s Bri?” I ask.
“Home.”
A few of the squires in front of us turn around to shush us, and I return my attention to the homily.
“…sad event is to serve as a reminder that we’re never safe until all demons have been cast back into Hell!”
The words send goose bumps down my arms. I know that Father Tristan’s referring to Owen’s attack yesterday.
“This comes as a reminder to never let our guard down,” the priest continues, “even in times when peace seems to be presiding over our world. We were placed on this earth to serve as its keepers, and a good keeper does not fall asleep on his watch. These devils will stop at nothing to see our demise. They will find anyway to tempt us, to lead us astray into the ever-damning flames of Hell.
“Satan’s avidity will not be sated until every single one of us, every single one of our
souls
, is his to command. But we know the truth of his ways, we know how deviant and wily his emissaries on earth are, and we shall never give in! We shall never bend to these Fey, these great seducers of men, but we will send them back into Gehenna, where they belong, to expiate their sins for all eternity!”
An assenting murmur rises from the nave as the first rays of the sun creep through the rose window behind the altar, showering the congregation with motley hues.
“Now let us pray to God for Owen’s recovery, that He may protect that innocent boy’s soul from the devil’s torments.”
Keva leans into me. “Isn’t Father Tristan inspiring?”
I nod, though I can’t shake a certain unease the sermon brings me. His thoughts parallel what those three upper classmen said last night about Puck, and I just can’t make myself think they were right. Shouldn’t one always stand up for the weak and defenseless, no
Keva’s already awake, adding the final touches to her makeup. She admires her work in the mirror, then sighs. “I wish I had dimples. Then my cheeks wouldn’t look so fat.”
I drown my laughter in my pillow as she puts her mirror down.
“Well, toodles,” she says before strutting out.
With a start, I hear the last peal of the bells echo through the arched windows—I’m oh-so-very late. I let out a slew of curses, struggle to get dressed, and sprint out of the dorms. I skid around a corner, nearly run a servant down, then beeline through the outside gardens to the church.
I try to make an inconspicuous entrance, but the door squeaks as I shut it, and the eyes of all the teachers standing at the back swivel around to stare me down. Hunching, I make my way to the freshmen pews—or the pages’ section, as everyone keeps reminding me.
I find Jack in his usual spot, but no Bri here this time to greet me, and of course, Owen’s absent too.
“I heard you got in trouble again,” Jack whispers to me as I sit between him and Keva.
“That girl hates me,” I whisper back, “and for no reason.”
“You talked smack to her face.”
“She was bossing me around!”
“She has every right to,” Jack says. “She’s a knight.”
“Yeah, thanks, I’ve learned my lesson,” I mumble, tracing the school crest embroidered on my jacket’s front pocket. “Cross and shield for squire, add a sword, and you’ve got yourself a knight. I know now. Still, it doesn’t make it right.”
“I know it’s not always easy to tell,” Jack adds after the Credo is sung and we resume our seats, “but there’s a trick.”
“What is it? The size of their heads?”
“The more rings and earrings they wear, the higher ranked they are,” Jack replies. “Usually.”
“Well in that case, I’ll just get some of these practice rings Ysolt hands out. If that’s all it takes for Jennifer to be entitled to act like a bitch, there’s no reason I can’t do the same.”
“Nice try,” Jack says, “but you’re only allowed to keep those oghams you capture, or family heirlooms.”
I sigh. There goes my brilliant idea.
“So where’s Bri?” I ask.
“Home.”
A few of the squires in front of us turn around to shush us, and I return my attention to the homily.
“…sad event is to serve as a reminder that we’re never safe until all demons have been cast back into Hell!”
The words send goose bumps down my arms. I know that Father Tristan’s referring to Owen’s attack yesterday.
“This comes as a reminder to never let our guard down,” the priest continues, “even in times when peace seems to be presiding over our world. We were placed on this earth to serve as its keepers, and a good keeper does not fall asleep on his watch. These devils will stop at nothing to see our demise. They will find anyway to tempt us, to lead us astray into the ever-damning flames of Hell.
“Satan’s avidity will not be sated until every single one of us, every single one of our
souls
, is his to command. But we know the truth of his ways, we know how deviant and wily his emissaries on earth are, and we shall never give in! We shall never bend to these Fey, these great seducers of men, but we will send them back into Gehenna, where they belong, to expiate their sins for all eternity!”
An assenting murmur rises from the nave as the first rays of the sun creep through the rose window behind the altar, showering the congregation with motley hues.
“Now let us pray to God for Owen’s recovery, that He may protect that innocent boy’s soul from the devil’s torments.”
Keva leans into me. “Isn’t Father Tristan inspiring?”
I nod, though I can’t shake a certain unease the sermon brings me. His thoughts parallel what those three upper classmen said last night about Puck, and I just can’t make myself think they were right. Shouldn’t one always stand up for the weak and defenseless, no
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