After Alekai left, I was bombarded with questions. “Why did you talk to him?” “Doesn’t he scare you?” “Why won’t you talk to us?” “Why did you let him get that close to you?” “How come he can interact with you and we can’t?” And many others.
“Ladies, gentlemen! We are teachers, not schoolchildren. Calm yourselves. Perhaps it is adults she mistrusts. Deluging her with questions will only exacerbate the issue.” The Headmaster sounds rather cross with them. I wonder why.
He turns to me. “Now that you have a notepad, are you willing to communicate with us? As I’m sure you can tell, we have many questions for you.” I lift an eyebrow. He really thinks I would willingly subject myself to the torrent of questions they will no doubt throw at me? Uh, no. I would rather lose my other eye than answer everything they’re going to ask.
I’m trying to decide whether or not to respond and if so, how, when help comes from a surprising source. “I believe her mistrust stems from us. We have been less than forthcoming with any information about ourselves, yet we have requested on multiple occasions that she provide explanations of her life. If you put yourselves in her shoes, would you tell us anything?” It’s the teacher who’s been watching me all day. “I thought not. Perhaps we should begin with introductions? My name is Torril Mayarna, I am thirty-five years old, and I teach the Magic Usage and Morality classes for all years.”
I look up at him, startled. What the heck is this guy doing? I debate for a moment before grabbing the notepad and pencil Alekai left behind. “Evangeliqua Greenstone. 8. No occupation.” I hold up the paper. Crap, what if they think I’ll always answer them now? I don’t want to spend all day answering questions.
Mr. Mayarna smiles. “Nice to meet you, Evangeliqua. I would offer to shake your hand, but I’m a bit of a germaphobe.” Yeah, right, you’re just trying not to have to touch me, I know how this goes. “You look tired, have you been sleeping well?”
This man never ceases to surprise me. “Yes. Unfamiliar. Too enclosed.” I’m fully aware that my short responses could be considered rude, but I honestly don’t care. I’ve never been much of a talker.
“Would you prefer sleeping in the forest? Headmaster claims that’s where you came from, but we didn’t believe him.” I nod. “Should we drag a mattress out for you or would you be more comfortable making your own bed?” I’m not even surprised at this point, this teacher is so unusual. He’s actually giving me a choice? “Make my own. Don’t search.”
They all look confused for a moment. “Are you telling us not to search for you?” “Why the hell would you want to sleep in a forest with the bugs anyway?” “Who would want to look for someone like you?”
Mr. Mayarna shakes his head. “Actually, sleeping in the woods sounds like fun. Would you be willing to let me try for a few days before I leave you on your own? I’m rather curious.”
One of the other teachers pipes up, “Trust me, if you don’t let him go with you, he’ll find some other way to try it, and then we’ll all be searching for him, only for him to show up in a few days looking like he just made the greatest discovery ever. It’ll be easier just to invite him along.” She notices everyone staring at her. “What? It’s true.” She turns to me, extending her hand palm up. “Indira Coscana, age twenty-eight, I teach emotional therapy and shifter hygiene. It’s wonderful to meet you, Evangeliqua.”
I stare at her hand for a moment and she begins to look unsure. She’s about to retract it when I set just the tips of my fingers on her palm. She flinches. “Nervous. You okay?” Her eyes widen at my query and she nods. “Yeah. But seriously, wow, you’re really powerful.” She hesitates. “Can I call you Eva?” Unlike Alekai, she sounds reluctant and scared, as if she thinks I’ll explode. Suddenly I understand what he said about being feared for his power. I nod.
The Headmaster steps in front of me, causing Mr. Mayarna and Ms. Coscana to step to the sides. “I don’t understand,” he states. “You already know my name and position. Does my age matter that much?” I watch him in silence, trying to gauge his temper.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
“Actually, Damarian, I think it’s about personality.” I lift an eyebrow; can Mr. Mayarna read minds? If not, he’s doing a pretty good job of faking it. “She may already know the names of everyone here by listening to our conversations, but we haven’t displayed our temperaments in any way. Oh, with the exception of being annoyed over her silence and avoiding her like she carries the plague because she was raised in a forest.” Everyone present flinches. “I think she wants us to demonstrate who we are by the way we introduce ourselves and our emotions as we do so. Our age and position probably mean nothing.”
All eyes turn to me, but I refuse to give any indications one way or the other. “Mind-reader?” I hold it up so that only Mr. Mayarna can read it and he laughs. “Nope. I used to teach Psychology.” Color me impressed. “Why stop?” His eyes widen at two consecutive questions directed to him, but he smiles. “We hired a new Psych teacher and I started teaching Morality classes instead. It wasn’t a big jump. Morality is part of Psychology, after all.” I nod slightly before turning my attention back to the confused-looking Headmaster.
He sighs. “Damarian Lee, age one hundred thirty-three, Headmaster of the Golden Arcs School for Magic. I teach Race Relations and Species Studies classes for seventh- and eighth-year classes. I knew the man who raised you since childhood. He was my best friend… and my brother.”
Everyone stares. I frown. He overdid it. He’s trying to get me to trust him more, but it’s having the opposite effect. “Name?” “Johanor Greenstone. He-” I cut him off. “Wife?” “Yes. Evangelica. She was such a beauty, all the guys-” I cut him off again. “Greenstone ⇒ Lee. Brothers?” “I’m adopted. He was-”
This time it’s Mr. Mayarna who interrupts him. “Jeez, Damarian, I don’t think she wants any information past what she’s asking about. If you’re trying to use information to make her trust you then you are failing spectacularly.” Headmaster Lee seems to wilt like a chastised puppy. “What do I do?”
“What do you do with a wild cat? You let it come to you, not the other way around.” I stiffen slightly at being considered wild, but he is right. I am slow to trust and if startled will slice you with the claws I have hidden under my cloak, much like the cat in his analogy. “She uses as few words as possible, so I suggest you do the same.” I have to hide a smile. This guy understands me far too well.
“But, Torril-”
“No buts. Do you want her to trust you or not? You’ll have to be patient, Damarian.”
“I am patient. I’m trying to show patience. Why--”
“You’re patient with us, but you’re not being patient with her because of Johanor. Give her time and space, not information. If you’re going to tell her anything, give her the letter first.”
“Some of that stuff was confidential. She shouldn’t-”
“Who exactly do you think she’s going to tell? Alekai? Even if she did, you know he keeps secrets like he was never told in the first place. It’s not like the whole world is going to find out something terrible just because you handed Johanor’s letter over to the little girl he himself raised. He wouldn’t have put anything too dangerous in it to begin with in case she decided to break trust and peek. Not,” he says, turning to me, “that I believe you would ever have done such a thing. You and Johanor had a shared trust that you wouldn’t have broken in this lifetime or the next.” I lift an eyebrow. “It’s clear by the way you stiffen every time we say his name.”
The Headmaster clears his throat. “Fine. Let me go get it. I’m still against this, you know that, Torril?”
Mr. Mayarna nods. “Be quick, Damarian, Evangeliqua’s probably tired of sitting in one spot.” the Headmaster walks out. “I know I’d be tired of being cooped up at one end of a couch for hours on end. Oh, right, what should I bring for the forest?”
I stare at him. So he was serious. “A water container and some clothes. Nature has the rest.”
“Wow, I think that’s the longest sentence yet. What’s the secret?” I shake my head. “Not telling.” I’m glad Mr. Mayarna introduced himself before indicating that he knew Grandfather. I might not have trusted him if that’s what he’d led with.
The Headmaster walks back in and grudgingly hands me Grandfather’s letter. I read through it carefully three times, writing down the really important parts. Huh. That’s interesting. While there’s some new information, it just brings more questions and nothing in the letter screams, ‘I’m confidential, nobody can read me!’
My race is stated, but what exactly is a ‘forest-born’? Since when do I have siblings, and why have we never met? Their locations are listed. How am I supposed to find them? What is this crazy magic I’m supposed to have? Is that why everyone’s scared? And above all else, who exactly was Johanor Greenstone?