Bones and Ashes (2 page)

Blaize was dressed much the same as Raiden in a black travelling dress and cloak, but her red hair was perfectly coiled about her head and her black boots gleamed. Raiden looked down at her own dress. The hem was filthy and damp from where she had trailed it through a puddle, while her boots were caked in mud. Tendrils of her fair hair had come loose from their pins and hung about her face and her hat was a soggy shape on her head. She looked as if she had spent weeks travelling when it had only been two days. Blaize had turned up immaculate, while Raiden looked as though she had walked all the way from Northumberland.

The two coachmen hurried back and forth, taking Blaize’s luggage into the school. She had five leather bound trunks, all stamped with the Inferre coat of arms, and a full length mirror wrapped in black cloth.

The Duke kissed his daughter’s forehead and then climbed back into the carriage. He jerked on the chain, forcing the imp to scramble in after him. The carriage pulled away, the horses leaving a trail of flames behind them. Blaize gave Raiden’s carriage one last withering look and then swept into the school.

Raiden waited several minutes to give Blaize enough time to leave the entrance hall and then, with no other choice but to go in, she gathered up her violin case and reticule. Tobin immediately appeared to open the door for her. He was a huge man. He stood nearly seven feet tall and that was without a head. She didn’t know how he had lost his head, if it had been in life or as a punishment in death. Not an inch of his skin was visible. Thick black gloves covered his hands and there was just an empty space where his head should have been. A huge broadsword was strapped to his back over his greatcoat. She put her hand in his and jumped down. Her boots landed in a puddle, soaking her already wet dress further. Peters, who had climbed out after her, shook his head in dismay.

Tobin untied the ropes that held her trunk and lifted it down in his massive arms. Neither he nor Peters would be able to help her carry her trunk into the school. Tobin was bound to the carriage and could only go a short distance from it, while Peters would go straight to her room. Miss Grimble, the headmistress, didn’t like her ghosts wandering through the halls.

Raiden clutched the violin case to her chest. With her other hand she heaved the trunk up the stone steps, one step at a time. It was battered and scuffed from being dragged along like this countless times before. She pushed the heavy oak door open with her shoulder and pulled the trunk in. 

Dark mahogany panels covered the walls and ceiling of the entrance hall, giving the impression of being inside a coffin. A grand staircase led upstairs. The door to her left led to the main hall where dinner was served and to the kitchen and library, while the hallway to her right led to the classrooms and beyond to the older part of the school.

Thick spider webs coated the beams of the ceiling. She could see three huge spiders, as big as her hand with her fingers spread wide, clinging to the webs. She knew for every one she could see, there were dozens more hiding in the shadows and the dark corners. The spiders were part of the school’s inner defences. They were big enough to catch rats and mice and other pests, and if needed, together they could bring down a human intruder.

Mrs Lynch came forward to meet her. She had a sheaf of papers in her hand with a list of names. “I see you have finally arrived Miss Feralis.” They didn’t use their titles at the school; instead they were addressed by their family’s name. “You are one of the last to arrive as usual.”

Mrs Lynch, who taught fencing and weaponry, had a long, thin face with a high forehead and a large mole on her pointed chin. Her drab brown hair was pinned up and she wore a severe black dress that wasn’t flattering to her thin and gangly figure. Her friend Cassade had always said if Lynch could find herself a husband, then there was hope for them all.

She crossed Raiden’s name from the list. “You have the same room you had last year. You can leave your trunk here and it will be taken up to your room.” The teacher looked her up and down through narrowed eyes. “Although as you are so late it may not be taken up until tomorrow morning, but you will have to change if you wish to eat tonight.” Finished with her, she turned away.

“Mrs Lynch,” Raiden called. The teacher stopped. “I brought something with me. It’s in my carriage. I wasn’t sure what to do about it.”

“You haven’t brought your dog with you again?” the teacher asked, looking up sharply.

“No.” It was two years since she had brought Chester to school. She had thought he was locked in her room while she was in class. She hadn’t realised as a ghost dog, he had been running through the walls and chewing the other girl’s shoes. No one had been able to work out who was doing it, until Raiden went back to her room one day to find him gone. “On the way here I came across a man.”

Mrs Lynch looked scandalised. “A man! And he’s in your carriage?”

“He’s dead.” Mrs Lynch looked relieved. “He was dead when I found him. He’d been attacked. I didn’t know what to do so I brought him with me.”

Mrs Lynch stared at her coldly. “It is not appropriate to bring the dead here. It is against the school rules.”

“Actually, that’s just zombies. There’s no mention of dead bodies in the school rules.”

Mrs Lynch stared at her until she fell silent. “I will have to tell Miss Grimble about this.”

She had been afraid of that. “I understand.”

Mrs Lynch gazed sternly at Raiden. “It’s too late to have someone come and collect him tonight. We will have to store him until the morning.”

She marched away to the front door muttering to herself. Raiden let out a breath. She was relieved she hadn’t had to explain to Miss Grimble how she came to have a dead body in her carriage. Maybe this year things would go better at school.

She grabbed the handle of her trunk and picked up her violin case. She dragged the trunk to the doorway that led off to the classrooms and nearly collided with an ogre who was coming through.

The ogre smiled at her revealing a single tooth in his mouth. “Raiden,” he said. “You’re late.”

“I know Grub.” Her head was level with his chest. She had to tilt her head back to see him. “I was held up with something.”

Two trunks were balanced on his massive shoulders. His thick arms strained under the fabric of his shirt. The fabric looked as if it would burst apart at any moment. Both his shirt and trousers were covered with patches where his clothes had been mended a dozen times before. Big ears stuck out from his head. He didn’t have much hair, but what little he had was brown.

“Have you seen Cassade?” she asked.

He nodded his head vigorously. “She waved to me. She’s down there.” He gestured down the hall.

“Thank you Grub. I’ll go and find her.”

“Mr Grub, I wanted those trunks put away before dinner.” Raiden hadn’t seen Miss Grimble come up behind Grub. Miss Meek hovered in the air behind her. The tiny fairy was on level with Miss Grimble’s face.

Miss Grimble, or Grumble as the students called her, was a lean woman. The skin was stretched tightly over her bones. Her brown hair was streaked with grey and permanent frown lines marred her forehead. The black dress she wore hung on her bony frame. It gaped at the front where there was nothing to fill it. Her pale blue eyes stared coldly at Raiden in disapproval.

Grub didn’t move to obey her; he was gazing at Miss Meek. He appeared entranced by her. He couldn’t help it. Ogres had a fascination with fairies.

“Mr Grub, those trunks won’t move themselves,” Miss Grimble said. Raiden winced at the shrill sound of her voice.

Grub bent his head and hoisted the trunks further up onto his shoulder. He kept his gaze on the floor as he spoke. “Bye Raiden.”

“Bye Grub,” she said softly. She watched him walk away, his head down.

Miss Grimble pressed her thin lips together. “Miss Feralis, you have just returned to this school and you have already got a member of my staff in trouble.”

Raiden didn’t want to argue with her. Ogres were no longer kept as slaves, but they were treated little better. “Grub didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“He is not allowed to speak to the students. I thought I had made that quite clear last term.”

“I’m sure Raiden simply forgot,” Miss Meek chimed in. The tiny woman hovered in the air. Flecks of fairy dust fell from her fragile wings as she beat them. She wore a drab brown dress and a minuscule pair of thick rimmed glasses perched on her nose. Her brown hair was pulled back in a bun. She dressed so plainly, not like the other court fairies Raiden had seen, but then, Miss Meek had been raised by humans. She tried to dress like a miniature human, as though people would forget she was a fairy, but she couldn’t disguise her eyes. They were a brilliant turquoise, and her ears were long and pointed like all the demon races.

Miss Grimble frowned at the fairy “It is not proper to be so familiar with the servants.”

“I’m sure it won’t happen again,” Miss Meek said, wringing her hands.

Miss Grimble turned back to Raiden. “I will overlook your behaviour this time, but there will be no more incidents this term.”

“Yes, Miss Grimble,” Raiden replied, keeping her gaze lowered. They’d had a similar conversation last term. And the term before that. And the term before that as well. In fact, Raiden couldn’t remember a time since she had been at the school that she hadn’t been told off about her behaviour. On her very first day she had ended up in Grumble’s study.    

Miss Grimble was no longer paying her attention. She was looking past her and frowning; another girl had caught her notice. 

Raiden gathered up her violin case. “I should go and unpack.”

Miss Grimble was already striding away to intercept her next victim. Raiden picked up her things and fled.

****

Trunks were piled up along either side of the corridor. Raiden struggled to drag her trunk through the narrow gap and keep hold of her violin. The younger girls pressed themselves against the wall to allow her to pass, but the older ones pushed by, shouldering her out of the way. Doors led off to the classrooms, while further along the corridor led to the older part of the manor that was now only used for storage.

Cassade sat on her trunk, a bowl of water on her lap and a small cage by her side. The black ribbons of her bonnet were untied. Strands of her golden brown hair had come loose from her braids and hung around her face. The expression in her grey eyes was grave as she watched the other girls, but as soon as she saw Raiden her expression changed. Smiling, she set the bowl of water down and rose to meet her. Cassade hugged her around the violin case. Raiden awkwardly hugged her back. The feel of her friend’s arms felt strange after being alone in Northumberland. The ghosts rarely touched her.

“I was beginning to worry you weren’t coming,” Cassade said. “I’ve been waiting for you for hours.”

“I got held up.” She never realised how lonely and isolated she was in Northumberland until she got back to school. It was a relief to be speaking to someone who wasn’t dead and who could actually talk back. 

“What was it this time? Harpies? Trolls?”

She dropped her trunk next to Cassade’s and sat down on it. “I found a dead body on the side of the road. I couldn’t just leave him there to be eaten so I brought him with me.”

Cassade sat down next to her. “I’m sure Mrs Lynch was pleased.”

“She was overjoyed,” Raiden said. “When did you get back?”

“This morning. My sister wanted to get back to see her friends. She had her trunk packed a week ago ready to come.”

It always amazed Raiden there were some girls who did not dread coming back to school, but who actually looked forward to it. She had always wondered what it would be like to not have to force herself to get into the carriage at the start of every term.

A soft snoring sound came from inside the cage next to Cassade. Florence, Cassade’s miniature dragon, was curled up, asleep as usual. The creature had a tiny bonnet on its head and a blanket wrapped snugly around him. Its skin was pebbled with dark blue scales and it had a long snout from which the snores were emitting, and tiny silver claws. Miniature dragons were fashionable at the moment to have as pets. All the rich had one. Cassade wasn’t one to follow fashion. She had rescued Florence from a factory where they were being skinned to be made into gloves. Raiden had never seen what the appeal of them was. Their skin was cold and clammy. It was like holding a slug. They were vulnerable to the cold and keeping them warm enough was difficult. They weren’t meant for the British climate.

“I wish you had come and stayed with us over the summer,” Cassade said. From her letters, Cassade had spent the summer in London, going to museums and lectures while her sister made her debut to society. She had three older sisters all now out in society; it would be her turn next year to be presented.

“My grandmother insisted I stay in Northumberland.”

Cassade linked her arm with hers. “It will be the last time you have to stay there on your own. Next year it will be our turn to make our debut.”

“Did anyone make an offer for your sisters?”

Cassade withdrew her arm. She absently stirred the water in the bowl. A small transparent face with delicate features appeared in the water at her touch. The undine smiled at Cassade before disappearing back into the water. Cassade was a water witch and she often brought Amatheia to school. “No. For a while we hoped someone would offer for Tamesis. He appeared to be courting her, but it never came to anything.”