Bones and Ashes (4 page)

The door opened. Raiden quickly slipped the clipping under a pile of books. She turned around as Cassade came into the room.

“Are you coming down to supper?” Cassade had changed out of her black travelling dress into the grey day dress the students all wore at the school. Her brown hair had been rebraided and pinned up. 

“I still need to change,” Raiden replied, pretending to straighten her books.  “I’ll meet you in the hall.”

“Don’t be too long or there won’t be any food left.”

Cassade left just as Marielle appeared to help Raiden change out of her dress. Marielle unlaced the dress and Raiden stepped out of it. The ghost lifted the grey day dress over her head. While Raiden did up the buttons that ran down the front, Marielle went to work rebraiding her hair. Outside her room, Raiden could hear girls talking and laughing. She tried not to flinch as a door slammed shut. It was difficult being back at school after spending the summer in complete silence. She hadn’t spoken to anyone in months. Sometimes she talked to the ghosts just to hear the sound of her own voice, but they couldn’t talk back.

****

The hall was packed with girls talking and gossiping in hushed voices. The hall was vast, although it was difficult to see how big it was with most of it in darkness. A huge chandelier hung from the ceiling, but it was unlit. The two huge fireplaces on the left side of the hall were both empty as well. Miss Grimble liked to keep costs down. The only light in the hall came from the wall sconces dotted around the room, but they were just small circles of light, which did little against the darkness.

There were a dozen tables in the hall, with enough room to seat twelve girls at each one. At the end of the room was a smaller table for the teachers. Here, the chairs were upholstered instead of the hard wooden benches the students had to sit on. Raiden stepped carefully as she made her way to their seats; she couldn’t see where the spiders were in the dark. Heather, whose bedroom was on the same floor, sat across from Cassade with her earth witch friends Bryony and Marigold. Like most earth witches, she had dark brown hair and eyes.

Rayne, Cassade’s younger sister, waved to Raiden from across the hall. She was a younger version of Cassade with the same golden brown hair, but she had blue eyes instead of grey and a scattering of freckles across her cheeks.

Raiden slipped into the seat next to Cassade just as the teachers began to file in, led by Miss Grimble. Mrs Lynch towered over the other teachers. She had a grim expression on her face. Miss Rudge, the science teacher and the youngest teacher at the school, followed her. Her frazzled brown hair hung in a braid that reached past her waist. Next was Miss Fairbanks who taught deportment. Her appearance seemed to reflect her name. She had fair hair and blue eyes, but Raiden knew from experience she was not at all fair. She had stood by and done nothing when Blaize had emptied out Raiden’s trunk. Miss Meek flew behind them. It was hard to make the fairy out with so little light, but Raiden could just see the sparkle of the fairy dust that fell from her wings.

Deegle came last. He was the only demon that taught at the school. He barely came up to Mrs Lynch’s waist. A pair of spectacles perched on his long nose, obscuring his small black eyes, and long pointed ears stuck out from his head. His skin, which was rough and coarse, was a dark leathery brown. His clawed feet made a tap-tap sound as he walked. His red velvet dinner jacket, scaled down to fit his small body, hung low at the back to discreetly hide his tail. His hands were clasped together. He was always careful with his hands. The thick black claws had been filed down, but they were still razor sharp.

The teachers took their seats while Miss Grimble remained standing. Two teachers were missing; Mr Crandell, who didn’t live at the school, and Miss Radbone, who never ate dinner with them. One chair remained empty. It moved back on its own, then back against the table. Mr Smith, who taught geography, was a ghost who had faded away. No one knew who he was. They simply called him Mr Smith.

“Good evening girls,” Miss Grimble said. She waited a moment for the whispering to stop and for them all to settle down. “I’m pleased you have all returned safe and well to begin another year here. For those that are joining us for the first time, welcome. I’m sure you will adapt quickly to being here. I hope you have already made yourselves familiar with the school rules. Remember, this is not a place for magic. You should have already been educated by your families in that respect. And remember to keep your windows closed at night. There are creatures that can get in no matter how high up you are.”

She paused before she continued. “Most of you know what is appropriate to bring with you when you come here, however it seems some of you are still unclear.” Miss Grimble turned to look at Raiden as she spoke. “It is not appropriate to bring the dead to school, human or otherwise. It is not that I am against the dead, on the contrary, a number of members of my staff are deceased, but we do not have the facilities here to store them. I hope I have made myself quite clear on this subject and that there will not be another misunderstanding this term.”

Raiden didn’t need to turn around to know Blaize and Glacia were laughing at her.

“Before we eat, there is one final thing,” Miss Grimble said. “Tomorrow, we will be hosting a small party and a few pupils from Greyfields boys’ school will be attending.” The hall broke out into chaos as girls began talking. Miss Grimble clapped her hands together for silence. “It’s just a small gathering, however, I expect all the older girls to attend.”

Greyfields was the equivalent of Grimwood Manor, but for boys instead of girls. The boys from wealthy families used to be sent to Eton to be educated, but after it had been overrun by zombies and destroyed for the second time, the school had been moved to London where the Inquisition could keep a closer eye on the students. Most of the teachers at the school were interrogators who worked for the Inquisition. From the stories she had heard, it wasn’t a pleasant place.

Miss Grimble took her seat and maids began to bring out tureens filled with some sort of broth. Raiden exchanged looks with Cassade. They were one of the few who weren’t excited at the prospect of a party. They knew what it meant - standing in the corner all evening while Blaize held court.

Cassade picked up the ladle and began to spoon the broth into bowls. Raiden looked longingly as maids walked past carrying plates piled with potatoes and roast beef to the teacher’s table. Warm blood was brought out for Deegle and Miss Meek.

Raiden prodded the lumps in her broth with her spoon. She had always thought Miss Grimble kept the hall dark on purpose so they couldn’t see what they were eating.

She hadn’t eaten all day. She ate quickly. There wasn’t much to go around, but then, no one wanted very much. She came to a strange lump. She fished out a finger; the fingernail was black and thick.

Raiden put down her spoon. She was no longer hungry.

“Hodges is losing his limbs again,” Heather said.

Hodges, the cook, was dead. At least, he had been dead for a short time. He had been brought back as a zombie and then his ghost had been put back into his body. He was now classed as the living dead. His body was technically dead, but his mind was intact and he was aware of who he had been. Usually the body was boiled in wine or vinegar to strip away the flesh leaving just a skeleton, so incidents like this didn’t happen. 

“Miss Grimble should really insist he have his flesh removed,” Cassade said. She took the finger from Raiden and wrapped it in her handkerchief. She gave it to one of the passing maids, who brought out a fresh bowl.

They finished their broth and then they had to sit and wait until Miss Grimble finally rose from the table to dismiss them. “You may go to bed when you’re ready. I’m sure you are all tired from your journey. Lessons will begin immediately after breakfast tomorrow morning. Do not forget, I expect all the older girls to be at the party tomorrow night.”

Mrs Lynch waited at the door, handing out candles as they left the hall. Gas had been installed in some parts of the manor, but Miss Grimble didn’t trust them with gas in their bedrooms. There had been an accident some years before, and with fire witches at the school, Miss Grimble saw a fire as preferable to a gas leak. Cassade took a candle and led the way upstairs. Blaize strode past, with Glacia behind her, a ball of fire in her hand. They passed a doorway that had been bricked up. Muffled sounds came from behind it.

“A party,” Cassade muttered as they went up the stairs. “How wonderful. I came here to learn, not to be paraded around. I want to be judged by my intellect, not how well I look in a dress.”

“They won’t judge you by how you look in a dress,” Raiden said, linking arms with her friend. “There’s also your family’s social position, their wealth and how much influence they have to take into consideration.”

The crowd of girls they had left the hall with gradually thinned as the younger girls broke off to go to their own rooms, until it was just Raiden and Cassade left. They made their way up the labyrinth of staircases until they finally reached the tiny stone steps that led to their floor.

“I’m going to bed,” Cassade said, when they reached the top. “Rayne kept me up last night talking.”

Raiden fetched a candle from her room. She held the wick against Cassade’s candle to light it. “Good night,” she said. It was strange having someone to say goodnight to.

“Good night, dearest,” Cassade said. She stopped at the door and turned back. “I’m glad we’re back here together, even if we have to put up with Blaize and Glacia and Grumble’s silly parties.”

“So am I,” Raiden said, and meant it.

After she had left, Raiden set the candle down on her dressing table. Marielle had laid out her nightdress and turned down her bed. The ghost hadn’t waited up to help Raiden with her dress, but Raiden didn’t need her help. Unlike the travelling dress she had worn on the way here, the grey day dress they wore at the school had buttons that ran down the front. It meant a maid wasn’t needed to get into and out of it. Raiden pulled out the pins from her hair and let the heavy mass tumble down her back. She could see an egg shaped lump under the covers on her bed. Peters had put a brimstone in her bed. She held her hand above it. She could feel the warmth emanating from the stone and see a faint amber glow through the blankets. It would keep her feet warm tonight.

Raiden went to the door and turned the brass key in the lock. She took the newspaper cutting out from under the book, where she had hidden it when Cassade had burst in. She had taken it from the newspaper the day before. It didn’t say very much, only that a Mr James Matherson had been in his bedroom at home when a fire had broken out. The door had been locked from inside the room. It was unclear why he was unable to escape; it was suggested that perhaps he was asleep. The Duke of Exeter, returning from the theatre, had stopped and broken down the door to get to him, but the gentleman was already dead.

She took a book down from the shelf. Holding it open by the cover, she gently shook it. A newspaper cutting slipped out from between the pages and fluttered down.   

Raiden unfolded it and gently smoothed out the creases. This cutting was dated almost twelve years ago. The faded print told how a fire had broken out in a young woman’s bedroom. The door had been locked from inside the room. The Duke of Exeter had been passing at the time, but he had been unable to save her. The woman’s name was Lady Helena Feralis - her mother.

Raiden looked from one cutting to the other. The circumstances were too similar to be a coincidence. She had been five years old when her mother died. She was asleep in the nursery at the time, but she had been woken by her mother’s screams. They were told afterwards the door had been locked from inside the room, but the key was still in the door, so why hadn’t she escaped?

The newspapers assumed it had been a tragic accident, but Raiden knew differently. Someone else had been in the room with her mother that night. Her mother hadn’t come to kiss her goodnight, so she had crept down to her bedroom. She had heard voices; her mother’s and someone else’s. Her mother had been pleading with someone. Marielle had found her and taken her back to bed. Later, the screaming had started.

Raiden traced the words of the article with her finger. She had never heard of James Matherson before. He was no one of significance. He didn’t appear to have any magic or money. But it appeared whoever was responsible for her mother’s death, might also be responsible for his death. If she could find out who had killed James Matherson, she might finally find out who had killed her mother and why.

She had always assumed it was a coincidence the Duke of Exeter was passing. As a fire witch, he could have sensed the fire and come to help. Now it occurred to her as a fire witch, he could also have been responsible for starting the fire in the first place. The two deaths were virtually similar and in both cases the Duke was involved.

But why would Blaize’s father want to kill her mother?

She gathered up the newspaper cuttings and placed them back in the book. There was nothing she could do about it. If she had come into her family’s magic she could have summoned back her mother’s ghost and asked her who had been in the room with her that night. But she hadn’t and it was beginning to look like she never would.

Conscious of Miss Grimble’s warning at dinner, she blew out the candle and went to check her window was shut tight. Her bedroom was on the highest floor, but there were demons like Spring Heeled Jack who could leap this high. The street below was empty except for a young man. Raiden rested her elbows on the windowsill. He wore no hat or gloves. His hair was a brilliant white. Perhaps he was an ice witch like Glacia. As if sensing her staring, he raised his head. He seemed to be looking directly at her window. She moved back and drew the curtains. She must be imagining it. She lifted a corner and looked through the gap; he was still staring at her window. She let the curtain fall back into place. Perhaps he had seen her watching him.