Secret of Light (3 page)

“Sore leg?” Kate spoke in a low voice, and Darrell shook her head at her friend's concerned face.

“Oh, nothing to worry about — just the usual for a rainy night.” She looked around and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Can you see Conrad anywhere?”

Kate peered over the back of her large wing chair. “Nope, not a sign of him. I can't believe it was really him! What d'you think he's doing here? I thought he was supposed to be in some kind of reform school in Ontario.”

Darrell shrugged and was about to reply when Mr. Gill cleared his throat at the front of the room. Kate ripped a sheet out of her binder and passed it to Darrell.
Let's talk later
, it read.

Darrell nodded and turned to listen as Mr. Gill began to outline the calendar for the upcoming year.

Wind hurled rain against the windows, and Darrell snuggled deeper under her down quilt. She was warm and dry, it was midnight of her first night back at school, classes were scheduled to begin the following morning at eight-thirty, and she was as far from sleepy as it was possible to get. Fall had roared in with a vengeance, and the storm outside the windows perfectly reflected her state of mind, roiling with all the events of the day. Delaney lay curled in his creaky wicker bed on the floor.

“I look forward to getting to know all of you this year. Please don't hesitate to approach me at any time if you have questions or worries.
” The voice of Mr. Gill echoed in her head, and Darrell remembered how his eyes had lit up as he looked at her.
“It'll be great working with you again, Darrell.”

Yet his words twisted and swirled around the image of the smirking face at the back of the dining hall. Arthur Gill and Conrad Kennedy. Two more differing male figures she could not imagine, and yet they had both
markedly changed her life this past summer. Conrad was a bully, a thief, a smuggler — and worse. She had last seen his sneering face as he was hauled off the beach by the RCMP in handcuffs.

That should have been the last of him. What's he doing here?

And Arthur Gill, the art teacher who had been her inspiration over the summer and was now the head teacher for the first form. He was a talented artist in his own right, and she had been so looking forward to working with him for a full school year. But would that change now that Conrad had appeared?

Darrell sat up, her crawling thoughts leaving her unable to get comfortable in any position. She snapped on the tiny book light she kept beside her bed and picked up her sketch pad and charcoal from her bedside table. In the glow from the small bulb she saw Delaney lift his head. He met her eyes and his tail thumped once, and with a few gentle creaks he settled back into his wicker bed, head on his paws.

“At least you can sleep,” Darrell muttered, and then jumped at the sound of another voice.

“Maybe he can, but I can't.” Kate's whisper carried from her bed across the room. “Too much to think about.” She grabbed her quilt and scampered over to settle like a small nesting bird at the foot of Darrell's bed. Leaning back against the window, she gestured at a lump in the middle of the third bed in the room. Gentle snores emerged from the pile of covers. “Lily doesn't seem to be having any problem,” she commented dryly.

Darrell grinned and glanced over at the third resident of the room. Lily Kyushu, who had shared a room with Darrell and Kate in the summer term, had quickly established a reputation for herself as a fast swimmer and a noisy sleeper. “Yeah, with Lily there, it feels like nothing's changed — and then I remember this summer and I feel like nothing will ever be the same again.”

Kate nodded. “I know what you mean. So much happened in such a short time it's almost easier to pretend it didn't.”

Darrell dropped her sketchbook into her lap and rubbed her forehead. “It's only our first day back and already things are not the way I expected.”

“Yeah. We've got a new school year — and one seriously disturbed student.”

“No kidding.” Darrell fidgeted with the charcoal pencil, twisting it through her fingers with practiced ease. “I don't know how we're supposed to think about learning anything with that bully in the group.”

“Well,” said Kate sensibly, “we don't even know if he's in our class. I didn't see him after orientation, and there has to be some kind of mistake for him to be here in any case. Besides, if he
is
going to this school, he's sure to flunk out anyway.” She ran her fingers through her short, red hair so it rose above her forehead in spikes. “Anyway, from the list that Mr. Gill gave us, it sounds like it's going to be a busy year.”

“Yeah, I just hope some of it will be fun,” Darrell answered absently, her mind on Conrad.

Kate rubbed her eyes. “I guess we'd better try to get some sleep,” she said with a yawn. Wrapping her
quilt around her shoulders, she slid off Darrell's bed and crawled back into her own. Her voice emerged, somewhat muffled, from under the covers. “Remind me to write my parents for some earplugs, would you? I forgot how loud Lily's nasal passages actually are.”

“Um hmm.” In spite of the noise from Lily's bed, after a few moments Darrell could hear Kate's breathing become slow and even. She tried to settle herself in her bed, but her brain wouldn't co-operate. She thought about the cave on the beach below the school and the glyphs that had pulled her back to the time of the Black Plague. Images of medieval Scotland swirled with thoughts of Conrad. It was a long time before her mind slowed down enough to allow sleep to claim her at last.

She was swimming through marshmallows and it wasn't easy. Her arms and legs felt like they were weighted with lead, and it was getting harder to breathe. Downright suffocating, in fact. Something had to be done. Darrell opened one eye.

“It's about time you entered the land of the living. You've missed breakfast entirely and you've only got ten minutes before class starts.”

“What?” Darrell opened the other eye and glanced at her clock. She sat up and several pillows fell onto the floor.

“I
said
you'd better get moving. I must have fired ten pillows at your head before you woke up.”

“Oh.” Darrell yawned. “That explains the marshmallows.” She reached down, batted a few pillows
away, and grabbed her prosthesis from its place beside the bed.

“You've gotta get out of this habit of staying up so late. You'll never make your class.”

Darrell raised an eyebrow. “Oh, and you were sleeping like a baby?”

Kate grinned and stuck a paper plate bearing a banana and a muffin onto Darrell's night table. “I brought you a mobile breakfast.”

“Thanks.” Darrell flew out the door to the bathroom, her arms filled with yesterday's clothes. Ten minutes later, she was sitting in Renaissance history class, swallowing the last bite of a dry carrot muffin.

“I need coffee,” she whispered to Kate, who bulged her eyes at the door in response. Professor Tooth entered the room and the class fell into the amiable silence of a group ready to be entertained.

“As a prelude to today's lesson, I would like to invite all of you to a special meeting to be held in the dining hall this evening. Your form teacher may have mentioned something about the upcoming Renaissance fair, but full details will be available at the meeting. I bring this up not only to act as a reminder but to introduce the topic of the Renaissance fair, the subject of our lesson today.”

Darrell felt a nudge against her left elbow and turned to see Kate sliding an open notebook under her arm.

RENAISSANCE FAIR
!!
was written in capital letters and underlined twice.

Darrell scribbled a reply and slid the notebook back.
So what?

Kate smirked and scribbled
Dunk tank
. The next word was circled.
Lily
.

Darrell jotted a reply and pushed the notebook back.
Snore revenge?

Kate's smile broadened and she nodded before turning her full attention to Professor Tooth. Darrell settled more comfortably in her seat and was soon drawn in by the teacher's words. She spent the rest of the class translating Professor Tooth's lesson into an elaborate sketch in her notebook, complete with festive tents, wandering minstrels, and a thieving pickpocket relieving a noble of his gold.

Class time flew by and before she knew it, Darrell was gathering her things and heading for the door.

“Ms. Connor, could you stay behind a moment, please? I'd like a word with you.”

Darrell glanced up to see Professor Tooth standing by the door and closed her notebook guiltily. Maybe sketching wasn't one of Professor Tooth's approved notetaking methods.

The teacher smiled, and her green eyes gazed steadily into Darrell's. “I hope you enjoyed the lesson this morning. I meant it to serve as an apt introduction to one of the most magical eras of history.”

Darrell breathed a silent sigh of relief. She clutched her notebook to her chest. “I can't wait until we get to study the artists. Mr. Gill told me we can spend some time learning the techniques Michelangelo used to paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.”

“Yes, I understand the subject is on Mr. Gill's agenda for this fall. However, I have something else I'd like to
discuss with you for the moment. We have a new student I would like to introduce, though I do believe you have met before. Let's walk down to my office, shall we?”

Darrell was curious as she followed Professor Tooth down the hall to the office. Someone she had already met? Could it be one of the kids from her old school? She had grown to feel very protective of Eagle Glen, and she didn't feel it was the right school for many of the kids who had been so distant and rude to her at her old school in Vancouver. Staring at the floor and thinking these dark thoughts, she followed Professor Tooth and automatically turned to close the door.

When she turned back, the sight of the student standing by the window in the principal's office froze her to the spot in shock. How could she have been so stupid? Of course.

“When I saw you at orientation I thought there had been some kind of mistake,” she gasped, looking at the pale, sulking face of Conrad Kennedy.

“You wish!” he snarled, then added, “You and me both, actually.”

“There is no mistake.” Professor Tooth's calm voice overrode Conrad's snarl. “Conrad has taken his place as a student at Eagle Glen as of today.”

Darrell whirled to face the principal. “But what about everything that happened over the summer? I thought both he and his dad were going to jail!”

The principal looked serious. “The events of the summer are in the past, Darrell. Conrad's father has been incarcerated and Conrad was to be sent to a special school in Ontario.”

Darrell felt her face flush and she glanced at Conrad's closed and sneering expression.

Professor Tooth spoke again. “It is my opinion Conrad will learn far more here than at a school for incorrigible children.”

She turned to him. “I presume you are settled into your room?” When he nodded, she stepped forward and opened the door. “Then you just have time for lunch before your music class begins.”

Conrad's face twisted into a grimace, and in three strides he reached the door. He leaned over and put his mouth beside Darrell's ear.

“Nice to see you again, Gimpy,” he whispered, and slipped out of the office.

Darrell closed her eyes for a moment so her tears of anger and frustration wouldn't show. She struggled to find words — any words — that could possibly tell Professor Tooth how wrong she was to accept Conrad as a student at Eagle Glen. When she opened her mouth to protest, the teacher raised her hand.

“I am asking you to try not to judge this situation, Darrell. Conrad will be closely monitored here at Eagle Glen.”

Professor Myrtle Tooth stepped over to her desk and sat down. Her clear, green eyes bored into Darrell's. “I know you have experienced some prejudice in your own life, Darrell. I'm not asking you to be friends with Conrad. All I'm asking is that you not actively sabotage the process.”

Darrell nodded, not trusting herself to speak. How could Professor Tooth bring Conrad into the school?
Didn't the risk he posed outweigh any so-called benefit to him? Her mind spinning, she somehow found herself walking toward the art studio, clutching her notebook in white-knuckled hands.

Even after two hours with a paintbrush in her hand, Darrell had no trouble recognizing the feeling in her stomach as she walked to the dining room. Fear. Her mind still reeled with questions. What was he doing here? Why would Professor Tooth let such an awful person into the school? And what was Eagle Glen going to be like with Conrad as a new student?

Darrell looked around the dining room and spied Kate sitting with Brodie and Lily and a boy she didn't recognize at a table in the corner. She dropped her backpack at the door and headed to the lineup to choose her lunch. Her stomach twisted at the thought of eating anything, but she might as well go through the motions.

Darrell cast a critical eye across the choices for the day and selected lasagne, a dish reminiscent of one of her Uncle Frank's specialties. As she waited for a drink, she felt the tension begin to seep away. The dining hall was filled with students, all chattering and laughing. She was safe. The smell of the lasagne was rich and tomato-y and she was surprised to feel her stomach rumble in spite of her anxiety. She took her food and slid into a seat beside Kate, who was engaged in a heated discussion with the new boy at the table.

“It's just not right. He's a criminal, even if he was led astray by his father. He belongs in jail, not at the school closest to his dad's smuggling operation.”

“I guess I missed a lot of excitement last summer,” said the boy with a wry grin. “All I know is I heard the guy play guitar this morning and he's not bad. He seemed in a lousy mood at the beginning of the class, but by the end, everyone had put down their instruments to listen to him play.”