and then slipped into the hall. The door swung closed behind her.
The next morning, I woke up early. Even though I hadn’t tried Izzy’s trick with bread and honey yet, I felt restored, and for the first time since I left the States, my head didn’t feel fuzzy.
I ordered room service and ate a big breakfast, lounging around in my pajamas and sipping my coffee. Since I didn’t have anything better to do, I decided to check my email again. There was a response from Mom, which I’d been expecting, and also an email from Justin. Seeing his name in my inbox gave me tingles, but another email caught my eye before I could read what Justin had sent.
The sender was someone named “Dr. T. Farren,” and the subject made me pause: “RE: Isadora.”
I hesitated for a moment, but then I clicked on the email. My palms were sweaty by the time I was done reading, and my heart had started racing. Dr. Farren the director of Izzy’s school, and she’d emailed me to discuss some “concerns” she had regarding my “relationship” with Izzy. She wanted to meet me in person this morning to discuss the “safety” of her students. How the woman even knew about me was a mystery. I’d only met Izzy for the first time yesterday, but evidently my dangerous Red reputation was all the woman needed to know.
Glowering at the computer, I typed the name of Izzy’s school into a search engine. Although no magical school would put full information up on the Internet where Nons could find it, I was pretty good at reading between the lines, and I needed some information before I replied to Dr. Farren’s pushy letter.
Izzy’s school, like Trinity, hid behind a veneer of religious language: Lady on the Lake was an exclusive girls’ preparatory academy where values and faith were taught side by side with the core subjects. I chuckled at that. Parents probably saw that line and got excited, envisioning science labs and literature classes, but I knew what the core subjects of a Witchcraft school were. I’d have to ask Izzy if her school offered divination; that was an elective at Trinity, but I’d never gotten the chance to take it. If they offered divination, it might explain why Dr. Farren knew about me so fast.
Without bothering to reply to the email, I bundled up and walked to Lady on the Lake to meet with the director. At least she was willing to meet me, I thought, as I glanced nervously up at the wrought-iron gates separating the school from the streets of Edinburgh. From the tone of her email, she might have rather just come after me in the night to boot me out of Scotland, but there was no way I was going to let her or her school intimidate me.
There was a pedestrian gate beside the towering gate, and it was unlocked. The fence reminded me of Trinity, and I faltered for a beat, feeling homesickness and anger wash over me. If I hadn’t been kicked out of Trinity for declaring Red, who knows how much more I could have learned. When I was able to move again, my footsteps crunched across the frozen brown lawn; even though Edinburgh was far to the north, snow seemed an uncommon occurrence. In that way, I mused, it shared something in common with North Carolina. As I walked, I wondered fleetingly about the coming ice storm Justin had mentioned; maybe I would try to call home later in the day, just to check on everyone. I hadn’t had a chance to read the emails he and Mom had sent, and I felt disconnected from them after so much time.
Lost in thought, I looked up and realized that I was standing in the foyer of the school building. Where Trinity felt like it wanted to be an old-world academy, Lady on the Lake had no pretensions: it simply was. The sweeping hallway around me reminded me of illustrations of cathedrals that I’d studied in my history class, and the black and white checkered floor beneath my feet had a shine to it that could only mean it was real marble. This school made Trinity look like a cheap imitation.
My boots
James Kakalios
Tara Fox Hall
K. Sterling
Jonathan Maberry
Mary Balogh
Elizabeth Moynihan
Jane Hunt
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley
Jacquie Rogers
Shiloh Walker