Secret of Light (2 page)

Darrell nodded. “I can't believe it. We get to spend a whole year here instead of going back to the stupid school in the city.”

Kate pulled a water bottle out of Brodie's pack and grinned at him as she stole a sip. “Aw, c'mon Darrell. That school wasn't so bad. You just had some rough days there.”

Darrell's smile faded. “It was a terrible place.”

“Well, no school can compare to Eagle Glen,” Brodie interrupted. “I've never had a summer like this one before...”

“And probably never will again,” interjected Kate, seeming to catch Darrell's mood. “The glyphs on the cave wall are all gone, Brodie. Eagle Glen will be just like every other school now. I bet — Hey!”

A shower of rocks cascaded over the cliff, setting off tiny explosions of shards and sand. Kate and Brodie scrambled out of the way of the dusty fallout and Darrell jumped up. A large chunk narrowly missed the spot where Delaney had been lying and rolled against the rock face with a hollow
thunk
. Looking up, they could see a distant figure stride away from the cliff's edge in the direction of
the school. Delaney growled low in his throat, his hackles high.

“I don't know,” said Brodie, brushing a fine layer of dust off his pants. “Somehow I don't think Eagle Glen has revealed all its surprises just yet.” He stood and hoisted his pack onto one shoulder. “Let's go see who would want to send us such a warm welcome. We can have a look through the cave later.”

The sun slipped under the horizon and the warmth slid out of the day like a hand into cool water. The damp air caused an ache to rise in Darrell's right leg, and she limped a little as she found her footing on the rocky shore. They gathered their things and, Delaney in the lead, trekked back along the beach toward the school.

Darrell climbed the winding path with her characteristic hop-skip step, following Delaney on the well-worn trail. The discomfort she'd been feeling bloomed into pain shooting up her right leg, but she tightened her lips and increased her pace. In the three long years since she'd lost part of her leg and her father in one terrible night, she had hardened herself to letting anyone share the ache she felt in her heart or in her leg. Brodie and Kate had helped, and she was not going to let a little ache slow her down.

The cool air of the early fall twilight lifted the hair on Darrell's arms, and the sudden breeze stirring the leaves of the old arbutus in the school garden made her shiver. Students milled around the front of the school, and she watched Kate frown at the sight of the new faces.

“Well, this is a pain. Look at all these strangers taking over our school. I wonder which one threw those rocks?”

Darrell looked over the crowd. “I wonder, too. Maybe it was an accident.”

Brodie shrugged. “Probably.” He glanced at Kate. “You're funny, Kate. It's only been our school for a couple of months. You sound kind of possessive.”

“I feel possessive, too,” interrupted Darrell. She patted Kate's shoulder. “This is the only school I have ever liked. I've made friends here for the first time in a long time,” she added quietly.

Kate snorted. “Some friends — one computer techie and one fossil geek.”

Darrell grinned. “Well, you two are the lucky ones, I guess. You get to be friends with an
artiste
.” She pushed Brodie's backpack so he staggered into Kate. “You'd better get rid of that thing before orientation,” she said, looking at her watch. “I'm going to take a quick run through to the art studio. I'll meet you guys in the dining hall in ten minutes.”

“Yeah, I've got to go get my stuff,” said Kate, neatly sidestepping Brodie's giant pack. “I'll grab my laptop and save us all seats.”

“See ya in ten!” Brodie resettled his heavy pack on his shoulders and began the long climb up the old stairs to the boys' rooms on the third floor.

Darrell smiled at her easel, feeling in a way like she was greeting an old friend. She glanced around the art room. Everything was, of course, just as it had been when she
left a scant three weeks before, yet she felt a rush of emotion that the room was still here, ready to wrap her in its warm embrace. The place even smelled like home. She couldn't wait to begin.

“I've got ten minutes, I don't have to wait,” she said aloud, and then jumped at the sound of her own voice echoing off the curved glass windows of the large room. She laughed at her own reaction, but still looked around to make sure no one had overheard her talking to herself. A quick glance confirmed she was indeed alone, and, safe from prying ears, she continued the conversation.

“What I need is some paint,” she began, as she strode over to an open cupboard door and started to rummage. “Some paint and some lovely, thick Arches paper and my new brushes.” Arms full of supplies, Darrell dashed over to her station and began to fill the small, wheeled trolley standing beside the draped easel. From her backpack on the floor she pulled a soft cotton towel rolled and tied with string. Laying the roll on the tall tabletop near the easel, she carefully untied and then unrolled the cloth — a soft case loaded with paintbrushes.

Darrell pulled the drapery off her easel and gasped. Instead of a blank canvas, propped under the oilcloth drape was the picture she had painted last summer. All the manic energy drained out of her as she stared, mesmerized, into the streets of Mallaig, a small fishing village on the west coast of Scotland, as they had been six hundred years before.

“I took the liberty of having it framed.”

Darrell's head snapped up and she found herself gazing into the deep green eyes of the school principal,
Professor Myrtle Tooth, standing beside the art room door.

Darrell's voice caught in her throat. “I — I can see you have,” she said, at last. “Thank you.”

“Consider it a welcome back gift,” the principal said, smiling. She stepped away from the easel and spoke in her familiar measured tone. “I want you to know someone else honours your work as much as you do.” She paused. “It is a beautiful piece. Very dark and mysterious — rife with speculation.”

“What do you mean?” asked Darrell.

Professor Tooth smiled and looked at her watch. “A beautifully executed painting is like an interesting person — multi-layered. What can be seen on the surface is not always an indicator of what lies beneath.” Darrell was about to reply when the door to the studio flung open and Kate surged in, narrowly avoiding the principal. She screeched to a halt beside Darrell's easel and smiled a guilty apology.

“Professor Tooth! I was looking for Darrell. It's almost time for orientation.”

The principal nodded and glanced again at her watch. “I see. Thank you, Kate, for helping me keep to my schedule.”

She turned to Darrell. “I hope you are happy with the frame. Perhaps, with your permission, we may display this work in the front office? I'm sure Mrs. Follett could do with a change from the dreadful Monet print she has hanging there now.”

Darrell nodded and watched the door close behind Professor Tooth. Kate slapped her hand on a
table. “Great! First day back and I practically crash into the principal.” She gazed at Darrell, speculation in her eyes. “What was all that about, anyway? Did I interrupt something?”

Darrell shook her head and replaced the cover on the easel. “You know, it's kinda strange,” she said, as she slid her tray of supplies back into place, “but every conversation I have with that woman leaves me feeling she knows way more about me than I do myself.”

Kate shrugged and held open the door. “Let's go to orientation. Brodie's there saving our seats. And maybe Professor Tooth will give us a few answers, for a change!”

The dining hall echoed with the sounds and movements of milling bodies. Unlike most gatherings populated by large groups of teens, a feeling of uncertainty tinged the atmosphere like smoke through a firehouse. Darrell looked around, interested in the pervasive feeling. Eagle Glen was a new school for most of the kids here, though she knew some had switched from the European campus. Uncharted territory. Everyone she could see rustling their papers and scraping their chairs seemed touched by first-day-at-a-new-school nerves.

Darrell smiled. Her summertime experiences had given her a taste of Eagle Glen, though she felt like she had more questions about the school and its principal than ever.
Guess we'll learn soon enough.

Darrell and Kate stepped across a tangle of legs to slide into seats beside Brodie. Kate dug through
her bag. “I think I forgot my timetable in the room,” she whispered.

Brodie leaned around Darrell. “What? You mean you haven't programmed it into your laptop already? How lax of you.” He chuckled gently.

Kate smirked and pulled out her laptop. “Why, thank you for reminding me, Brodie,” she said with satisfaction. “As a matter of fact, I have done just that.”

Brodie groaned. “Unbelievable,” he muttered.

“Shhh,” hissed Darrell. “Here comes Professor Tooth.”

The principal stepped onto a raised platform and looked out at the sea of faces. The tables had been pushed back against the walls and windows, and the open space was filled with chairs. Without raising her hand or even an eyebrow, quiet dropped like a blanket over the room. She smiled.

“I'm not sure what to make of a silence like this one. However, based on my years of experience as a teacher, I realize I should enjoy these moments when I can find them.” She stepped forward and her eyes seemed to take in every face. “I must say I am filled with a tremendous sense of excitement this evening. As many of you know, this is the second fully functioning campus of Eagle Glen School. The first has been running successfully in Europe for more than a decade. I know you must all be eager to have the new year underway and hear more about your classes, so I will keep my remarks very brief.”

A murmur ran through the group, and Darrell settled herself more comfortably. If this speech was like
any of those she had listened to from previous principals, it would probably go on a lot longer than everyone would like. Still — she looked around at the faces of the other students. It was weird, but everyone seemed to be paying attention.

“Eagle Glen is a unique school. We view each student's education very seriously here, and recognize that much learning in the life of a teenager comes from more than the pages of a textbook. Eagle Glen is a school where you will follow the customary path to higher learning — with a twist. Each student is encouraged — expected — to find the path best suited to him or her. Some of you may find,” and here Darrell could have sworn Professor Tooth's eyes twinkled directly at her, “the path is far more interesting and involved than you might ever have expected.”

Darrell felt Kate's elbow dig into her side, and she pressed her own knuckles hard against the smile she felt threatening to turn into a laugh.

“You will now be assembled according to form, and each group of students will go through timetables with its form teacher. Each form teacher will be available during school hours to answer any questions you may have. After school hours, this job passes to the head students. Elections for these positions will be held next week. Until then, your form teacher will give you all the information you need. Would the fourth form please stand? I'll ask you to follow Mr. Neuron to the math centre.”

There was a general rustling and muttering as a ragged group of students gathered their things and filed out of the room. Darrell was stunned. The speech had
been less than a minute long. Professor Tooth had been true to her word.

Kate whispered in Darrell's ear, a note of panic in her voice. “What about Brodie? If classes are divided by age, he'll be a year ahead of us!”

Darrell felt a pang of worry, and turned to Brodie, her eyes wide. “Are you in first form or second?” she demanded in a loud whisper.

“Second.” But Brodie was grinning. “Don't worry, I've talked to Professor Tooth. It'll all work out, you'll see.”

Puzzled, Darrell looked up to see Professor Tooth had gathered the third form and sent them off with a female teacher she didn't recognize. Glancing around the room, Darrell could see there were fewer than thirty students left.

“Second form? Please follow Mr. Dickerman to the rock lab.”

Professor Tooth had begun summoning the final group when a door banged open at the back of the room. Darrell was craning her neck, looking for the source of the disruption, when she felt a hand grip her upper arm and squeeze.

“Ow!” She looked down to see her arm caught in Kate's iron-tight grip. Darrell opened her mouth to complain, but closed it when she saw Kate's expression. The colour had drained out of her friend's face and her freckles stood out like spots of rust on the pale skin.

Darrell followed Kate's gaze to the door and her stomach dropped into her shoes. Leaning on the doorframe, a smirk on his face, was Conrad Kennedy.

Professor Tooth's voice was brisk. “Mr. Kennedy. I'm afraid you are a trifle late, but if you will wait a moment, I will see you to your teacher. Would the first form please follow Mr. Gill to the library?”

Darrell's heart hammered in her chest.

Kate turned and met Darrell's gaze. “What's he doing here?” she squeaked.

“I don't know.” Darrell's voice choked as she rubbed the vivid red marks Kate's fingers had left on her arm. “I guess we're about to find out.”

Darrell dragged a heavy, stuffed chair over the uneven planks of the library floor to a spot beside Kate. Fifteen kids were gathered in the group, almost equally divided between girls and boys. Flopping into the chair, she rubbed her right knee and gazed around at the new faces. She leaned forward and adjusted the prosthesis under her jeans. A low ache still throbbed in her leg, and she looked out one of the leaded glass windows of the library. The night was so black, all she could see was the reflection of the brightly lit room on the glass. The lashing of rain against the window confirmed what the ache in her leg had already told her.