Rae of Hope (The Chronicles of Kerrigan) (13 page)

Meeting Mr. Wardell turned out to be the easiest part of the weekend. The rest was like having her fingernails ripped out -- she actually thought that might be less painful. Any conversation she tried to have with a parent, Dean Carter stood within earshot to tell them who she was and what she’d been doing since her arrival. He seemed nervous with all of the female students, yet stuck to her specifically, like glue. Almost as if he thought she’d blurt out to the parents without tatùs how special her ink was going to be or how she wanted to take over the world with it. She thought she’d never been so happy to go back to class Monday morning.

Sitting at her desk listening to Professor Stockheed drone on about the importance of punctuation and how grammatically correct sentences allowed people to understand you better, she assured herself that the isolation of the past weekend would dissipate.

As the days progressed, the weather turned cooler and Rae noticed the trees began to glow with hues of red, orange and yellow. The school dance became the focus of everyone’s attention. Molly, determined to ask someone to the dance, was disappointed to learn no one actually took a date.

“I’m gonna ask a boy, anyways,” she told Rae later that evening.

“Ask Craig. His ink is water, and you know it’s an excellent conductor of electricity.” Rae waited for Molly to start laughing, but Molly didn’t get the - obviously very bad - joke.

Molly just continued to pace the room and talk like she’d never heard Rae. “I’m dying to have my first kiss. Here I am, the sad age of sixteen and I’ve never been kissed. Well, I’ve been kissed, but not
that first kiss
.” She ran out of the room, shouting Haley’s name and hollering if she’d ever French-kissed anyone. Rae idly wondered why Molly hadn’t asked her that question rather than Haley, but dismissed the thought just as quickly as it came into her head. It was blatantly obvious Rae had little experience in the world of kissing.
More important things to do anyways.

She grabbed her backpack and headed downstairs to meet Devon. He was already there, waiting for her at their usual table at the back of the library. He sat chatting on his cell phone as she walked down the aisle. Noticing her, he waved.

Not wanting to eavesdrop Rae slowed her pace, but still caught the end of the conversation.

“…Sounds great, Beth. I can’t wait to see you on Saturday, too. Yup, me too…I, uh, gotta go. I’m tutoring tonight.”

The tone of his voice made Rae feel like an obligation, a job, and that hurt. She’d come to consider him a friend and thought he felt the same. It certainly hadn’t sounded that way.

“Who’s Beth?” She tried to make her voice sound normal.

It took a long time before he answered. Rae watched him concentrate on putting his phone into his backpack. He exhaled, in what sounded like frustration.

“My girlfriend.”

“Oh. How long…have you guys been toget--dating?” Rae blushed, hating that she couldn’t keep her curiosity contained.

“Since the summer after I turned fifteen.”

Rae did the math. His birthday was in March, so they’d been dating almost two years. They might as well be engaged, in to her mind.

“Yeah, we kinda grew up together. Her parents are friends with mine, so it was kinda…She goes to RH.” His words were rushed and jumbled together. “Anyway, I’ll introduce you at the dance.”

Yeah, Rae’d like to meet this Beth and throw rotten bananas at her, along with a few moldy tomatoes.
Might as well make sure she’s wearing something white and very expensive so it ruins everything.
Rae smiled sweetly, hoping her thoughts weren’t transparent. “Does she know about your tatù?

“No. I haven’t told her anything about Guilder or the ink-stamps. She thinks I got the tatù when I turned sixteen to copy my dad’s snarling fox. She laughed and thought it was adorable I got a little fox with big ears as a tattoo instead of a skull or something more masculine.” He shrugged indifferently.

What a jerk! Can’t you see that, Dev? Come on, I’d be SO much better for you than her
. Rae shifted, surprised at her own thoughts. “Funny. I never thought of your
tatù as
cute.” She cleared her throat and tentatively reached out to touch his ink. She traced it lightly and quickly pulled her hand away when she pressed against his warm skin. “It’s got a lot of hidden depth: speed, agility, awesome hearing. Fennecs have strong vision and aren’t they supposed to have an easy-going nature? Definitely a useful tatù, especially if want to be a secret agent or spy.” She’d checked out fennec foxes on the Internet the day after she’d met Devon.

Devon grinned and straightened in his seat. “I like your definition of my ink. Makes me sound a lot tougher than some tiny, cute, little desert animal.” He laughed.

 
She glowed with pleasure, but quickly dropped her head down, determined not to show how much his words affected her.
Get your game face on Rae,
she coached herself. “Don’t you hate that you can’t say anything to Beth about your, uh…gift?” She played with the zipper on her bag. “I’d want to be able to tell the person I lov-cared about. Who wants a relationship built on lies?”

“No way.” Devon shook his head. “It’s hard enough to figure out how to deal with the skill, let alone tell other people. Our society would never allow us to do it anyway. It goes against the code.”

Keep your tatù a secret to the outside world. Use it to the best of your ability. Don’t try to create or evolve what has naturally been given to you. That includes scientific experiments, crossing DNA with each other or creating life. Blah, blah, bull-crap, blah, blah, and so on, and so forth.
Rae stopped the mental reciting of the code and rested her hands on the table and leaned forward, curious to know why Devon walked the straight and narrow. He sounded scared to go against the grain or disappoint anyone. He definitely played by the rules. She scrunched her nose, annoyed that Uncle Argyle’s little proverb itched in her memory. Compared to someone like her father, it was no wonder people here considered her a freak and were afraid of her.

She straightened in surprise when Devon stopped doodling and went stock still. His head cocked to the side as his eyes shot to the computer area near the library doors.

“Did you hear something?”

Rae looked around and held her breath, listening. The only sounds she heard were the hum of the lights and the fans from the computers. “Nothing unusual,” she whispered.

“It’s probably nothing.” Devon shrugged, glancing behind him. “I thought I heard something click shut.”

“Might’ve been one of the computers going into hibernation mode.”

“Yeah, probably nothing.” Devon lifted a large volume book. “This covers the entire history of tatùed people in Great Britain. One section even lists the people who attended Guilder.” He opened the book to a random page. “To the unknowing eye, the book represents tattoos students from Guilder have gotten over the years since King Henry’s time.” He tapped his forehead with a finger and gave a knowing smile.

Devon picked up a scroll leaning against the desk. He and Rae unrolled it on the table to study the chart’s
tatù
markings. The chart divided tatùs into four sections: common, distinct, rare and unknown.

“I’ve seen some of these here.” Rae pointed to Andy’s ink and a few others.

Devon tapped a drawing with his finger in the rare section. “That’s your mother’s ink stamp.” He then pointed to another one. It was one of only three ink in the unknown section. “And your dad’s.”

Rae studied the sun marking with the rays coming out of it. She traced it lightly with her finger, swearing to herself it felt warm. Ironic that it looked exactly as she’d pictured it. She hesitantly brought her hand over to her father’s. “What’s this supposed to be?” She leaned in closer, squinting at the detail. “Some little wizard in a robe?”

Devon coughed. “Kinda. I think it’s supposed to be a warlock.”

“A male witch?” Rae grinned. “You scared?” She covered the ink with her hand. “You think it might rub off on me if I touch it?”

“No.” Devon’s mouth said no, but his action of sliding her hand away spoke volumes about how he really felt. His reaction, and the meaning behind it, bothered her. But she wasn’t willing to explore it at that moment.

She pointed to the title. “Why’re there only three here?”

“There’s no written code for the unknown section. I always thought of it as more of a black-gifted section. Though no one can say for sure, everyone says that unknown ink is dark. These three shown here were dark throughout our history -- the last one being your father’s. The other two are from over hundreds of years back, one being from King Henry the VIII’s time.

“I wonder which category mine will fall under.’" Her gut clenched as she stared at the unknown section. Would she be dark-gifted like her father? Surely not. Between her mother’s and father’s gifts, there had to be a happy medium…right?

“It’s just a chart, a theory.” Devon touched her hand lightly with his fingers. “It doesn’t mean anything. It just gives us something to look at, like the periodic table.” He pointed to his heart. “What matters is who you are on the inside. How you let the gift grow inside of you.”

“Smarty pants.” Rae grinned, all the fear she had felt a moment ago gone.

“Headmaster Lanford taught me that.”

“Okay, he’s the brilliant professor. Is he the brilliant-mad professor?” Rae winked. “Seriously though, he cares a lot for the school, doesn’t he?”

“Everything he does is for the good of this school. Anyone who’s attended Guilder pays homage to it. Famous, rich or whatever, they all give back to the school and, in turn, send their kids here. My father’s a huge supporter and a big fan of Lanford’s and he’s been bragging about Guilder ever since I can remember.”

“I’ve a feeling my father wasn’t as big of a fan.” Rae’s watch chimed and she doubled checked it in disbelief. “Shoot, it’s ten already, and I’ve got a lab I need to write up.” She stood and started shoving her stuff back into her backpack.

“I promised Julian I’d help him with a vision-drawing he had yesterday. He can’t figure it out so I said I’d take a look.” Devon pushed his chair back and placed the chart back into its tube-holder.

They headed out of the library and went their separate ways. Rae spent the rest of the evening trying to do her report, but constantly thought about the chart. She went to bed still wondering how the inking worked and what kind she might get. Restless throughout the night, she couldn’t relax and drop into a deep sleep. Around three she woke from a nightmare, her heart racing, fearful her entire body had been inked, even her face. She dropped back onto her sweat soaked pillow with relief when she realized she’d been dreaming.

The next afternoon Andy stopped by Rae’s dorm room.

“You wanna go for lunch before the dance Saturday? There’s this great little pub in town that serves American food. It’s called ‘American Cheeseburger in London.’ It’s awesome.” Andy let out a growl. “I’ll bring the werewolf.”

 
She couldn’t stop the explosion of laughter that escaped. “S-sounds like fun. Why don’t I meet you at your dorm around noon?”

Thumping and banging erupted from Rae’s closest. Andy growled and jumped into the room, ready to protect her from the unidentified danger.

“That’s it! I’m taking you shopping.” Molly stepped out of Rae’s closet and slammed the door. “You have absolutely nothing to wear to the dance.”