The Hound Of Rowan Part 6

Max scanned the sea of faces in mute embarra.s.sment. He gave a little wave as Nigel led him to a seat in the back row. Miss Awolowo continued on; Max heard something about internships.

"Going to clean up a bit and make some calls," Nigel whispered, patting Max on the shoulder. "I'll check in with you later-before configuration."

Max nodded until he realized that something was missing.

"Nigel," he whispered urgently, "what's configuration?" "what's configuration?"

There was no answer. He turned, but the Recruiter had already slipped out. A skinny girl with braces and her mother motioned for Max to be quiet. Max scowled back at them and turned to hear Miss Awolowo.

It was mostly talk of contact information and faculty advisors and school holidays and schedules. Max tuned most of it out and studied his new cla.s.smates instead. They did not look like the students at his old school; there was much more diversity sprinkled throughout these seats. While many wore foreign clothes, Max was more interested in subtler differences, such as their posture and facial expressions. He thought many looked older and very serious. He was trying to guess their ages when the whole audience stood and began to file up the aisles.

The scene outside in the driveway was awkward, and Max did his best to keep to the edges while those who had arrived with their parents said good-bye. Tears were shed and luggage was stacked in a cacophony of sound as Miss Awolowo answered last-minute questions and ushered parents to their cars. He watched the skinny girl with braces cling to her mother, weeping uncontrollably until Miss Awolowo gently pried her away and led her mother to a taxi. Max felt guilty for making a face at them.

When the parents had all gone, Miss Awolowo led them into the great foyer. She climbed one of the staircases to address them from the landing.

"All right, children. We now must get you situated in your rooms. Before room a.s.signments, however, I would like to make an important announcement concerning Rowan, a place very dear to me and your new home."

The air became very still; the chattering stopped immediately. Something in the older woman's voice had changed.

"Thank you. Until you are given a full tour of the grounds and premises, I ask that you stick only to those rooms and areas that I designate. As you will see, the Manse and the rest of Rowan's campus are...strange. This campus and its buildings possess a certain unpredictability that can baffle our most senior faculty. There are also a variety of contraptions throughout this house and grounds whose proper workings require careful instruction. As it is only our first day, I have no desire to rescue or mourn any foolhardy students. Is this understood?"

Miss Awolowo's frank and penetrating look swept from face to face just as Nigel appeared on the landing behind her.

"Wonderful." She beamed. "Now, before the configuration begins, let me say the following. If history has taught us anything, it is that some students are inevitably disappointed with their rooms or roommates or both. If such is the case, I am sorry but urge you to make the best of it. Room configurations and roommate a.s.signments cannot be changed. So, no crying, no whining. Agreed?"

The children nodded slowly and shot puzzled glances at one another.

"Excellent. This is Nigel Bristow. I believe some of you have already made his acquaintance. He'll be showing the boys their rooms. The young ladies will come with me."

"All right, then," Nigel called down to them. "Up here and follow after me."

Max swarmed up the stairs with the other boys. Miss Awolowo's voice called after them.

"Good luck, Nigel! Good luck, boys! Meet back in the foyer at five for a quick tour before dinner. Listen for the chimes!"

Max hurried after Nigel, alongside dozens of other students.

"Okay, boys-keep up, keep up," the Recruiter said. "North Wing's for the gents here at Rowan; the ladies stay in the South Wing, so if you find yourself without a urinal in sight, you know you're in the wrong place."

The boys giggled as they climbed a spiral staircase whose creaky wooden banister had been worn to a smooth polish. Nigel's voice echoed from above.

"As it happens, your cla.s.s is on the third floor. Unlucky you. Third and Fourth Years will torment you from the second floor. Fifth and Sixth Years enjoy first-floor convenience and feel very much ent.i.tled to it."

Max emerged from the stairwell into a long, broad hallway arched with heavy beams. It was lined on either side with dozens of gleaming green doors. Nigel led them toward the far end of the hallway. Straggling behind, Max noticed that each door had a large, ornate keyhole and a shiny silver numeral in its center. Next to each door was a towering plaque of polished black wood and bra.s.s, the first two dozen of which were engraved with names.

Reaching the end of the hall-where, Max noted, the plaques were blank-Nigel turned to the boys, who began to fidget.

"Let's see...sixty-nine, seventy, and Omar there makes seventy-one. Excellent-didn't lose anyone along the way! Hooray for me. Now, when I say the word, go hunt for your name on the plaques next to the doors. When you see your name, hold right there and do nothing else. Everyone understand?"

A stocky, handsome boy with chestnut hair and bright blue eyes raised his hand. His Irish accent was so thick that Max could hardly understand him.

"Our names are already on them?"

"What's your name, O curious creature?"

"Connor Lynch."

"No," said Nigel, rubbing his hands together. "But they will will be. That's part of the fun. You don't pick your roommates and neither do we; that's the Manse's job.... Everyone ready? Go find your room!" be. That's part of the fun. You don't pick your roommates and neither do we; that's the Manse's job.... Everyone ready? Go find your room!"

To Max it seemed like a frantic Easter egg hunt as the other boys sprinted or b.u.mped into one another to scour the nameplates up and down the hall.

"I've found mine!" called a short boy who looked like a mouse.

"Me too!" cried another, losing his retainer.

Max walked slowly down the hall as the other boys shouted in excitement and jumped about. Max wanted to be excited, too, but he felt queasy-the lurking presence within him was stirring once again. He stopped before Room 318 and stared at the plaque next to the door. As though scripted by an invisible hand, two names appeared where before there had been none. Max ran his fingers over his name, feeling the letters etched deep into the bra.s.s. A cough sounded behind him.

"My name's there, too, isn't it?"

Max turned at the voice, which sounded American. He looked down at a small boy with skin as pale as milk. The boy's features were small and faint, except for purplish circles beneath his eyes. He looked unhealthy, like an underexposed photograph.

"Are you David Menlo?" asked Max.

The boy nodded and coughed again.

"I'm Max."

Just then, Max heard Nigel's voice rise above the din.

"Aha! Stop right there, Jesse Chu! Didn't you hear me before? Do Stop right there, Jesse Chu! Didn't you hear me before? Do not not do anything else until I instruct you to!" do anything else until I instruct you to!"

A chunky Asian boy across the hall scowled and yanked his hand away from his doork.n.o.b as though it was hot. Nigel walked briskly toward him, wagging a finger. He stopped, however, as he saw Max and David standing by their door.

"Hey there-who are you two missing?"

Max glanced again at the plaque, realizing the other groups had four or even five boys in them.

"No one," said Max. "Our names are the only ones."

"Really?" said Nigel, giving a curious smile and leaning in for a closer look. "How very strange."

He shook his head before cupping his hands to be heard throughout the long hallway.

"Now, when I instruct you to, when I instruct you to, I want you to open the doors and step inside your respective rooms. Once inside, you will lock the door behind you and shut your eyes. You will soon feel dizzy-it is to be expected. Keep your eyes shut until the feeling subsides entirely. To be safe, I recommend that you count to three once the dizziness stops before you have a look around. Everyone clear?" I want you to open the doors and step inside your respective rooms. Once inside, you will lock the door behind you and shut your eyes. You will soon feel dizzy-it is to be expected. Keep your eyes shut until the feeling subsides entirely. To be safe, I recommend that you count to three once the dizziness stops before you have a look around. Everyone clear?"

Max nodded with the others, terrified.

"All right, gents. Please enter your rooms and let the configurations begin."

Max looked at David, who inclined his head, suggesting Max should open the door. The two tentatively stepped into a small dark room with a plain stone floor and knotty wood walls.

"Are you ready?" Max whispered. "When I lock the door, shut your eyes. When the dizziness stops, let me know and we'll both count to three. Okay?"

Taking quick, shallow breaths and trying to ignore the furious patter of his heart, Max locked the door and squeezed his eyes shut.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Slowly, however, his body felt as though it was accelerating to a tremendous speed while spinning like a top. The sensation intensified for what seemed to be a full minute, culminating in a gagging wave of nausea.

He was on the verge of being sick when the spinning stopped. His body felt almost weightless, as though drifting slowly back to the earth. Moments later, the feeling had subsided. He hissed at David.

"David? Has it stopped?"

"I think so, yeah."

"Okay. Count with me. One. Two. Three! Three!"

Max opened his eyes and drew a sharp breath.

Instead of the small square room, they now stood on the top stair of a very large circular chamber with a gla.s.s-domed roof. Through the gla.s.s, Max gazed up at the moon and stars, but they appeared much larger than he had ever seen with his naked eye. They rotated slowly beyond the gla.s.s. Max gasped as faint gold threads materialized to outline a celestial centaur before silently fading. A moment later, a giant scorpion was highlighted from among the many stars twinkling above.

At the level of the door and top step was a broad, bra.s.s-railed balcony. It led in either direction to enormous, curtained sleigh beds of polished wood, positioned at opposite ends of the room.

Without a word, Max and David descended the steps to a sunken floor. At its center was a large octagonal table inlaid with designs of moons and stars, resting on a thick ivory-colored rug. Beneath each balcony were identical curved niches. Each niche had a cozy couch, tall bookcases, and a wardrobe, all lit from above by lights recessed into the surrounding golden wood. At the far end, a stone fireplace crackled with a small fire. With a shock of recognition, Max saw his duffel bag folded neatly by the wardrobe along with his drawing pads and pencils. The rest of his things were similarly arranged.

"What do you think?" David breathed beside him.

Max whirled and shook David by the shoulders.

"I think it's amazing!"

With a series of triumphant whoops, the two raced up to the balcony and then ran in opposite directions to leap onto the sleigh beds. Max sprawled on a soft comforter st.i.tched with golden suns before brushing aside the curtains. David was grinning from the opposite bed, kicking his feet against its navy curtain embroidered with silver moons.

There was a knock on the door.

"Hey there!" Nigel's voice sounded a bit worried. "Max? David? Open up, boys, and let's have a look. Boys?"

They galloped back along the balconies and swung open the door. Nigel stood outside with the Irish boy, Connor.

"Oh, thank goodness! Had me worried there that you'd gone and lost yourselves! Mind if I have a peek? I'm always curious how these configurations turn out-never seen two the same."

As Nigel entered the room, he froze and scanned the threshold.

"No vomit. Well done, gentlemen! These are new loafers, after all!"

He stepped past them and gasped.

"Oh, this is wonderful wonderful! Much more inspiring than my old room! I begged to switch the G.o.d-awful thing. You would, too, if you'd gotten a Mongolian yurt!"

Max and David savored their triumph as Nigel poked around, muttering the occasional "Would you look at that!" and "Those lucky devils!"

Connor Lynch stepped in after Nigel and stood gaping at the ceiling. His bright blue eyes blinked in wonder, and he delivered an impressed thumbs-up to Max and David before stepping back into the hallway. A minute later, Nigel sauntered up the steps, shaking his head and scowling at the two of them.

"I don't want to hear even a peep peep of complaint from you two for the next six years! Oh, my wife would kill for those bookcases, you scoundrels! I'll never understand how this old Manse works." He threw his hands up with feigned disgust, brushing past them into the hallway, where the others were now darting in packs to explore the various rooms in a chorus of shouts and slamming doors. Max and David peered in at a medieval bedchamber high atop a tower and a j.a.panese temple before stumbling into a very plain room across the hall. of complaint from you two for the next six years! Oh, my wife would kill for those bookcases, you scoundrels! I'll never understand how this old Manse works." He threw his hands up with feigned disgust, brushing past them into the hallway, where the others were now darting in packs to explore the various rooms in a chorus of shouts and slamming doors. Max and David peered in at a medieval bedchamber high atop a tower and a j.a.panese temple before stumbling into a very plain room across the hall.

They looked around in awkward silence. Connor was lingering in the room alone; his roommates had apparently left to explore. The only sounds came from a small fire sputtering in a modest brick hearth. The room was not any bigger than the bare room Max had entered before the configuration. Narrow wooden bunk beds were stacked beneath a low, flat ceiling of dark beams. The room was otherwise furnished with only one small desk and a red rocker positioned near the fireplace. Two small windows were cut through the plaster walls. They looked onto a lazy, sunlit meadow dotted with wildflowers.

Nigel poked his head in and broke the silence.

"A cozy little nook to hang your hat in, eh, Mr. Lynch?"

"Yeah, Nigel, home sweet home. Not a traffic-stopper, but it'll do."

Connor hopped up onto one of the top bunks and dangled his legs over the side, grinning at them defiantly. Max liked him immediately.

"C'mon, boys," said Nigel. "Help me round up the others, and let's get back to the foyer."

Nigel hurried down the hall as Max, David, and Connor looked down into a sunken room that appeared to be the captain's quarters of a luxurious galleon. Three large portholes showed a distant sunset and dark blue waves lapped at the gla.s.s. The room's four occupants were laughing as they sat on the cozy beds that were sunk into deep alcoves. Sea chests and old maps and bright yellow lanterns were scattered about. Connor spoke up just as a brightly colored fish leapt past one of the portholes.

"Hey-Nigel wants us out there. Come on."

The boys nodded and took turns climbing up the bra.s.s ladder.

"Honestly," said Connor as they filed past, "if any of you boys get the wobblies down there, just let me know and we can swap out. You there!" He shot a finger at the last boy to climb out. "You're lookin' awfully pasty. We should probably switch rooms, mate."

"Never!" shouted the boy, running after Nigel.

Connor sighed and fell in step with Max and David. By this time, Nigel had managed to gather most of the cla.s.s back near the staircase.

"Right, then, congratulations on completing your configurations. You're a lucky lot, you know. Some of the chaps in my cla.s.s got stuck with a dungeon, a moldy wine cellar, and a chicken roost!"

"But, Nigel," said a boy, "how did the rooms change? Did you change them?" did the rooms change? Did you change them?"

Nigel shook his head.

"Dear me, no. This is Old Magic-far older and far stronger than anything Nigel Bristow can conjure up. But more of the Manse and Old Magic after dinner."

The chimes began just as Nigel herded them down the stairs.

5.

EVILS OLD AND NEW.

The boys and girls met outside by the fountain, where room configurations were discussed in a buzz of competing voices. Max found it hard to keep track as he overheard breathless girls talking about a pharaoh's throne room carved with hieroglyphics and snug lodges in the mountains. Nigel stood near him looking bemused while Miss Awolowo shielded a tall, plump red-haired girl from the onrush of a pet.i.te black-haired girl who stabbed an accusatory finger while muttering in her native language. The red-haired girl looked miserable.