Flight of the King (8 page)

“No, look,” he whispered. “She said ‘two months from today'—that's not just any day, that's the Spring Equinox—and fits the missing letters
from the note exactly! This Progress Fair is where ‘the Reckoning' will take place!”

“But ‘the Reckoning'—what could it mean?” Bailey asked.

Viviana's speech ended, and the students applauded. Finch returned to the stage.

“As headmaster of Fairmount, allow me to express our thanks to Viviana Melore for including us on her grand tour! Students, you are dismissed!”

An excited chatter broke out in the auditorium, echoing against the high ceilings.

“We have to talk to Tremelo,” said Bailey. The three of them stood with the rest of the students, shuffling out of the rows.

Bailey felt a tug on his sleeve, and turned to see Tori falling into line behind him. Lyle, the boy from her Tinkering class, stood close by.

“This is Lyle, everybody,” Tori said. “Lyle, this is Bailey, Hal, and Phi.”

“How's it going?” Lyle asked, without waiting for an answer. “She's something, huh?”

“Who, Tori?” said Hal.

“No, no—that too, though,” Lyle laughed and looked down shyly. “I meant Viviana. Anyway, I've got to catch up with my dad. See you all later!” He waved
good-bye to the group and nudged Tori's shoulder affectionately, then pushed ahead through the herd of students.

“His dad?” Bailey asked.

“What are you doing sitting with him, anyway?” interrupted Hal.

“None of your business,” Tori said. “I
can
have other friends, you know.”

In the atrium, students gathered in excited groups, buzzing about the Fair. Bailey edged close to the outside of the room, holding Bert to his chest. Phi stuck close to him, though the others
lagged behind. Just as Bailey was about to reach the exit, someone grabbed his arm.

“Hey,” he said, looking up. “Gwen!”

“Shh!”
Gwen whispered. “Don't draw attention!” She wore a Fairmount blazer, at least two sizes too small, over a plain maroon dress that Bailey recognized
as Phi's.

“What are you doing?” Bailey asked. He swiveled his gaze, to see if anyone was looking at them strangely. This had been a terrible idea—Gwen stood out like a flame-haired sore
thumb.

“You asked me to be here,” Gwen said. “You asked me to watch!”

“The clothes were my idea,” said Phi. “To help her blend in!”

“You could have asked me,” said Tori, catching up to them. “At least my sleeves are longer.”

“We shouldn't be talking about this here,” Hal broke in.

“But I have to tell you,” Gwen began, “I did see something. On my way here—

“Shhh!”
said Hal, through gritted teeth.
“Turn around.”

Bailey turned and saw Dr. Graves, Headmaster Finch, Ms. Shonfield, and Viviana standing a mere four feet away, right in front of the case of antique volumes where the Loon's book was
hidden.

“I confess I have little use for books,” Viviana said to Graves. “Machines, inventions—that's where a kingdom's true power lies. In progress, not in dusty
pages.”

When Bailey turned back to Gwen, he saw that she had gone deathly pale.

“Just act natural,” Bailey whispered. “She won't know you're not a student.”

“But
Shonfield
will,” said Hal. “You've got to hide!”

The five of them continued toward the main doors. But as they pushed their way through, a man with an armload of papers crossed their path and collided with Hal. It was Jerri, Shonfield's
assistant. He fumbled, and a stack of papers slipped from his arms and scattered on the atrium floor.

“Sorry! So sorry,” sputtered Jerri as he bent to collect them. His brass spectacles dangled helplessly from his thin nose. “A bit nervous, I guess…”

As Bailey stopped to help gather the last of the papers, he caught Phi's eyes and nodded to Gwen. The two girls locked arms and hurried out of the atrium together, followed closely by
Tori.

Standing, Bailey glanced at the bookcase again: Viviana was still speaking with Finch, Shonfield, and Graves. Graves was hardly listening to her, however. He was staring at Bailey, Jerri, and
Hal. Bailey couldn't be sure whether he'd taken note of Gwen or not.

Finch and Shonfield turned to follow his gaze.

“Oh, dear,” said Ms. Shonfield, at the sight of Jerri's papers scattered on the floor. Jerri grimaced apologetically at her, shuffling them into a neat pile.

“What in Nature has happened here?!” said Graves. And then, in a quieter, harsher tone: “You should be more careful in front of
our guest
.”

“Yes, sir,” Bailey said softly. He was surprised he could get the words out at all, given the immense lump in his throat.

“Hello, students,” Viviana said.

Bailey and Hal stared. On Bailey's shoulder, Bert blinked.

“Students! Say hello,” chastised Graves.

Bailey felt as though someone had suddenly turned him to stone. He couldn't speak or move as Viviana Melore, the woman who had sent an assassin to kill him and Taleth, locked eyes with him
for the first time. Her eyes, Bailey noticed, were a delicate shade of purple. He had no clue what his own face looked like in that moment, but he hoped that he didn't look as terrified as he
felt.

It was Hal who finally spoke.

“Welcome to Fairmount, Miss Melore,” Hal said, and Bailey was so grateful he nearly melted away from relief.

“Hello, welcome,” he said, following suit.

Viviana placed a hand on Graves's arm, but did not take her eyes off Bailey. He couldn't help but let a frightening thought pass through his mind—did she
know
? And
just as quickly as that thought entered his mind, another followed. His eyes passed to Graves, who was looking at him with pure contempt. What had been a sneaking suspicion now seemed
clear—Graves and Viviana were working together.

“Such polite students, Dr. Graves,” Viviana said. Finally, she looked away from Bailey and Hal. Still as motionless as stone, Bailey felt his heart begin to beat like a tympani drum.
“You were going to show me the classrooms next, I believe?”

Graves, Finch, and Viviana moved down the hall as Bailey exhaled. Only Ms. Shonfield stayed behind. A wombat waddled beside her, eyeing Bailey suspiciously. Bailey wondered whether the wombat,
if not Shonfield herself, had noticed the strange, red-haired student in the atrium a moment before.

“Good day, boys. May I speak to Mr. Walker privately?” she asked, looking to Hal.

Hal pushed up his glasses and stepped away. Jerri gazed down the hall in Graves and Viviana's direction. Bailey was having trouble focusing on anything but Viviana's retreating
back.

“I was very concerned with the scene I witnessed in Dr. Graves's classroom the other day,” she continued. It took Bailey a second to realize that she was referring to his
argument with Graves.

“About that, Ms.—”

“Let me finish, please.” She held her hand up in a firm gesture. “I know your history of acting out, and I want to caution you: You are still on academic probation, as of this
past autumn. I had hoped that your Awakening”—she glanced at Bert, asleep, on Bailey's shoulder—“would guide you toward an inner focus, and am sorry to see that
perhaps I'm wrong. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Bailey said nothing. Of all the teachers and administrators, he trusted Ms. Shonfield the most. He would've liked to tell her the truth, but too many people were already in danger.
Act
normal, focus, stay quiet.
He was bursting inside with fear and anxiety, but he had to look calm. He shook his head.

“Perhaps Awakening requires more of an adjustment than we'd originally thought.…” Shonfield said quietly. “Which reminds me, now that you've revealed yourself to
be reptile in your affiliations, perhaps you'd be more comfortable in Treetop, rather than the Towers?”

Both Shonfield and her assistant cocked their heads to hear Bailey's answer. He glanced over at Hal, who squinched up his nose in a look of sour disagreement.

“No, I'm happy where I am, thanks,” Bailey said.

“Well, just checking,” said Shonfield. “Cross that off my list, Jerri? I will be keeping an eye on you, Mr. Walker. Don't disappoint me!” She squared her shoulders.
“Back into the fray,” she said to Jerri. “To think we have three whole days to entertain this Dominae woman…With Finch and Graves falling all over themselves for a pretty
face…”

Jerri smiled, a little mischievously, and followed her down the hall to join the others. Bailey waited until they were out of sight before he dared to look at the bookcase. To his relief, the
Loon's book was still there, hidden. But relief was quickly replaced by fear, suddenly ballooning bigger and bigger inside his chest: Graves, with Viviana's fingers resting so formally
on his arm, was surely the next person to try to kill him.

“YOU OKAY?” ASKED HAL,
as soon as the group of teachers were out of earshot.

“Yeah,” Bailey lied. He'd just looked into the eyes of the person who wanted him dead, and he felt as if small insects were crawling all over his skin. “I just wish
Tremelo had actually turned up,” he said.

“He's Viviana's
brother
,” whispered Hal. “What if she recognized him?”

Suddenly, Hal seemed far away. His voice became muddled and Bailey's vision blurred. Instead of standing within Fairmount's library atrium, he had his nose pressed up to a gnarled
tree branch. Bailey recognized the landscape just beyond the school—it was the woods near the Scavage fields.

Oh, no, thought Bailey. Taleth, sensing his distress, was doing exactly what she shouldn't: she was edging closer to the school.

Feeling dizzy, Bailey steadied himself and concentrated on his own consciousness: Hal standing before him, and the cold stone marble floor under his feet.

“I have to go,” he said quickly, shaking off the last remnants of Taleth's vision. The smell of snow-damp leaves lingered in his nostrils.

“Where?” said Hal. “Bailey?”

But Bailey was already out the tall double doors and running down the front steps of the library two at a time. He had to find Taleth and persuade her, somehow, to stay away before it was too
late.

He ran past the classroom buildings and down the hill from the cliff, barely aware of the cold that stung his exposed ears and cheeks. His breath billowed out of him in a mist. Finally, he
reached the expanse of trees and undergrowth at the base of the hill that led to the Dark Woods. He paused and looked around wildly for any sign of Taleth. But all was still.

His heart still pounded. After a few deep breaths, he plunged into the bushes. He scrambled over a raised root just in time to see Taleth emerge from behind an oak. She regarded him calmly, her
whiskers twitching. Bailey stayed still as the tiger approached him. Carefully, she rubbed his still-healing arm with the side of her furry face.

“What are you doing here?” Bailey said softly. He felt a surge of worry emanating from Taleth. When they touched, an image flashed before Bailey's eyes: a small, grayish-brown
animal pursuing the tiger.

“Who's watching you?” Bailey asked. “Is it Graves?”

Bailey tried to focus, but he couldn't connect strongly enough to get a clear answer. Instead, he just felt the longing that Taleth experienced. She wanted to stay close to the school,
close to Bailey. Bailey wanted that too, but it was impossible.

“Go, get out of here,” he said, and his voice tightened. “You can't stay here; it's not safe.”

Bailey pushed at Taleth's flank, urging her to turn away. The tiger padded away a few paces from Bailey, then she stopped and looked out toward the dark. She turned back to him and
blinked.

Just as if he had blinked too, all of a sudden, everything was darkness around Bailey. A cloth was thrown over his face and he was being lifted off the ground, away from Taleth. He instinctively
lifted his arms to rip the cloth away, but a strong hand grabbed his wrists. They'd been seen.

“Taleth,” he cried out. “Run!”

Part of him feared that she would stay and help him—but to his bittersweet relief, he heard a crashing in the bushes, and he knew that she had gone away to safety. He thrashed, trying to
break free. A fresh, throbbing pain broke out on his injured arm.

Bailey was dragged, half standing, half stumbling, several yards away by someone who kept their arm locked around his middle.

“Who are you?” Bailey yelled through the dusty cloth. It smelled like old potatoes. “What do you want?”

“For you to stop being such a nincompoop,” said a familiar voice. Bailey was thrown down on a soft patch of grass, and the brown potato sack was yanked off his head. Tremelo stood
over him.

Bailey sat up. Gwen stood a few feet away, watching them. She was still wearing Phi's too-small clothes, as well as a remorseful frown.