Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
She folds her hands in front of her and studies me. “And is that where you came from? The fringes?” She looks me up and down. “I see a smart suit, a nice watch. I see a man with intelligence and manners. And magic.”
“I have lived a life of many beginnings,” I admit. “Along the way, I discovered that’s the best way to live.”
“So what was your last beginning?”
“Knock knock,” a voice says, and I turn to see Sister Margaret at the door, her cloak over her head, casting shadows over her face. Her features seem to dance and sway for a moment, as if rearranging themselves, something I noticed that’s consistant amongst Leona and Ana Van Tassel, as well as Margaret and Sophie Jensen. I know it’s some sort of spell they must have going on, a glamor of sorts, but I can’t figure out the point of it.
“It’s time for your tour,” Sister Margaret says to Kat. “If you’re still interested, of course. We have an hour before your next class with Ms. Peters.”
“Of course,” Kat says. Her hand flexes over the ripped sheets of paper in her hand.
“Here,” I say, going into my desk drawer and pulling out a notepad. I hold it out to her. “You’ll need this for your next class.”
“Thank you,” she says, taking it from me, and I notice she’s careful not to touch my fingers again. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says.
“You’ll be seeing him this afternoon,” Sister Margaret announces. “For your mimicry class.” She then shoots me a knowing look. “Crane, I’ll make sure you get your updated class list by tomorrow. There have already been some changes. One student has been sent home early. It always starts this way, when people realize they’re not strong enough for the curriculum. But I’m sure that won’t be the case with either of you.”
She places her hand on Kat’s arm and leads her out of the door. Kat looks back at me over her shoulder as she goes, and our eyes meet. I manage to give her an encouraging smile, but her eyes are hard to read.
It’s only when the door closes and she’s gone that I realize what that look was.
It was fear.
Chapter 7
Kat
“Are you sure you’re doing alright?” Mathias asks me as he looks me up and down yet again as we ride side by side through the trail back home. “You’re looking paler than an egg white.”
“I’m fine,” I tell him. “Just hungry, that’s all.”
“They don’t feed you in that school?”
“I didn’t have much of an appetite at the time,” I tell him. It’s true. After my herbs and tinctures class with Ms. Peters, who was a plain and quiet spinster, I went to the dining hall. I think I was most excited about this concept because we didn’t have one at the schoolhouse I went to, where we all had to bring our lunch to school in tins and drink out of the pump, sharing one metal cup.
But my excitement was quickly dashed. It was odd walking into a place where everyone already seemed to know each other. Even though it was only the first day of school, I had to remind myself that the students all lived on campus and had been there for at least a week, whereas I was the odd one out who lived at home and got to leave every day when class was over.
Needless to say, I didn’t eat. Growing up in Sleepy Hollow, I never had trouble making friends. It’s just that when I found my good friends—such as Brom or Mary—I stuck to them like glue and tended to forget everyone else. So while I knew that I could make friends if I tried, Professor Crane’s words hung in my head. He asked if I was a snob, which meant that’s probably what the other kids think of me. I can’t blame them. I’m a Van Tassel; I showed up late and without any supplies, as if I thought I was better than everyone, not to mention what I was wearing. There’s no way anyone at this school would want to be friends with me, and I was too wary to test that theory.
So I just spent my lunch hour walking around the grounds, going over all the places that Sister Margaret took me on the tour, plus a quick stop at the stables to check on Snowdrop. Despite the sprawl of the campus and the buildings that go back into the forest, it really isn’t that hard to navigate.
Maybe it has something to do with memory loss because the further we get away from the campus, the less that I remember. By the time we ride past Wiley’s Swamp, all I remember clearly are my interactions with Professor Crane.