In Which Somebody Gets Slapped Because of Dante’s Divine Comedy
Several unusual things occurred at Elsmore High that day.
The janitor came running down the hallway that morning claiming there was a strange bright bird in the broom closet. Being deaf and getting on in years, he was instead ushered into the nurse’s office and offered a mild sedative.
Something had startled the girls in the locker rooms but disappeared before anyone could take a closer look. Because the extent of the description provided was “a dark shadowy thing,” and “totally freaky,” no one was ever caught.
Many of those incidents were lost in the excitement for the championship game later that afternoon, which pitted the Elsmore Tigers against their rivals, the Springbay Wolves. Tala had very little interest in basketball as a sport, but had quietly been to most of the games that year, mainly because Alex wanted someone to go with, which was also her excuse to watch Ryker Cadfael play. Afternoon classes had been suspended in anticipation of the finals, with bonfires for either celebrating the win or commiserating the loss to commence right after. The Wolves had bagged the championship the year before, and the desire for both revenge and vindication was high.
Except Alex wasn’t in his classes. Tala had been hoping against hope that he’d show up to the game at least, given his excitement over it, but his absence suggested otherwise. Was he still even in Invierno? Had he finally been smuggled out of town and into some other backwater hellhole without giving her the chance to say goodbye? She didn’t want to think about that. Surely Lola Urduja couldn’t be that cruel.
The windows at Elsmore were badly scratched, showcasing generations of student graffiti piled on top of each other, marking age like the concentration rings of a giant glass sequoia. The firebird flew from pane to pane, not stopping until it found its target.
It watched Tala during calculus.
It watched Tala during physics.
It watched Tala during history.
Tala had just settled into her seat for English when something pecked at the smudged windows, right next to her ear.
She turned, just as something burst into flames on the other side of the pane.
With a startled shout, Tala lurched as far away as she could, chair overturning in her haste. A hush settled over the class as people turned to stare.
“Miss Warnock. Is there anything you would like to share?” Miss Lowry was a well-built woman with traces of a mustache struggling to escape her upper lip. Many things not tolerated on her watch included shenanigans, happiness, and screaming for no apparent reason. Tala could practically taste a month’s worth of detention.
From the other side of the glass the firebird cooed, still waggling its tail feathers, still showing off.
Tala stared at it, and then back at the class. Nobody else looked out the window. Some students looked confused, others whispered among themselves.
“No, ma’am,” she mumbled, righting her seat. She kept her gaze on her desk until the laughing tapered off. Miss Lowry had turned back to the whiteboard, her quota for administering public humiliation filled for the day, and thankfully without any mention of detention. Tala risked another look, but the bird had already disappeared.
“We have a new student today,” Miss Lowry announced, and heads swiveled in surprise as the girl stepped through the doorway.
She was a pretty, petite brunette, smiling and stylishly dressed in a ruffled skirt and a blue blouse, looking like she’d stepped out from a magazine cover. Despite Tala’s own muddied understanding of fashion, the new girl’s outfit was something she recognized as far too expensive for the likes of here.
“This is Zoe Carlisle from New York City. I trust that you will all make her feel at home.”
That was unlikely, considering this was obviously a one-eighty degree turn in life choices for her, and the class reacted with the curious glee they usually reserved for say, monster truck rallies. At the teacher’s suggestion, Zoe took the empty seat beside Tala’s.
The new girl paid no attention to the few contemplative looks thrown her way by some of the boys, and more than a few hostile ones by some of the girls. “So, you must be Tala.”
“Yes?” Tala said, suddenly wary.
“Did Chief Master Sergeant Tawilisi tell you we were coming?”
Chief Master Sergeant Tawilisi, Chief Master Sergeant Urduja Tawilisi.
Tala froze, staring. Zoe only grinned back. She had the bluest eyes Tala had ever seen. “I hope you don’t take it the wrong way,” Tala finally managed, “but you don’t look at all like what I was expecting.”
“No offense taken. I get that a lot.”
“I like your skirt, though.”
The girl brightened. “Thanks, it has pockets! Look, we had to find a way to get into Elsmore without looking too suspicious, and this was the best Mr. Peets could come up with at such short notice.”
This actually looked extremely suspicious from Tala’s perspective, but her opinion was moot at this point. “‘We’?”
“There’s a few more new ‘students’ around, and I’m not holding my breath on them being inconspicuous, to be honest. The enthusiasm for the game today should override some gossip, but we’re not planning on sticking around after today, so whatever.” She frowned. “Do you know where Alexei is, by any chance?”
“I thought you guys did.”
“Seems like he snuck out of Peets’s safe house this morning, and nobody could find him.”
Tala could practically feel her heart speed up.
“That’s not to say he’s in trouble,” Zoe added quickly, spotting the look on her face. “Peets doesn’t think he’s been kidnapped, if that’s what worries you. He thinks Alex might be here at Elsmore.”
“Ahem,” said Miss Lowry, from the front of the class. “Miss Carlisle, while making friends on your first day of classes is a sound idea, we highly discourage doing so while in the middle of lessons. But perhaps you can tell us what you know about Dante Alighieri.”
“He was one of the ‘three crowns’ of Italian literature, to start,” Zoe replied without missing a beat, “together with Petrarch and Boccaccio. He wrote his most popular work, the Divine Comedy, after being exiled from Florence by the Black Guelphs. The work is an allegorical vision of the afterlife where he recounts passing through Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven—the first two guided by the poet Virgil, and the last by his unrequited love, Beatrice.”
She coughed, as the rest of the class stared. “I’m, um, very familiar with his works, Miss Lowry.”
The teacher harrumphed, obviously annoyed that her attempt to rebuke Zoe had backfired, and turned back to the board instead.
“That was kinda cool,” Tala whispered, low enough so as not to trigger the teacher’s wrath again.
Zoe turned a delicate shade of pink. “Thanks. Let’s talk once class is over. I have a lot of—”
More noises outside the window. The firebird was back, gazing at them. Tala’s breath caught.
Beside her, Zoe made a soft, strangled noise. “The firebird’s here?”
As if in response, the firebird began dancing on the ledge, pleased by its own cleverness. No one else noticed.
The firebird presented itself to the rightful heir of Avalon on their eighteenth birthday, Tala remembered. That meant Alex was here, somewhere around campus. “Why can’t anyone else see it?”
Zoe frowned. “In a place like Invierno where magic is repelled, I suppose a creature composed almost entirely of spells would practically be invisible to people. Only other animals would be immune.”
The door to the classroom opened again, and a second new student walked in.
He was tall, more so than most of the jocks on campus, and Latino, most likely Central or South American. His eyes were a lighter shade of dark, though, more gray than anything else. He had black, closely cropped hair, with a square jaw and a slightly crooked mouth, and didn’t seem at all concerned that he’d arrived late. It was the girls’ turn to throw appreciative glances, and the boys’ to size him up. Silently, he handed a note to Miss Lowry.
“Well,” the teacher said, clearing her throat, “this is our other new student, John Nicholas—”
“Cole.” The boy interrupted her quietly. “Just Cole.”
The girls’ interest grew more marked, as did the guys’ belligerence.
“Well. Cole Nottingham,” the teacher amended, “please take a seat beside Mr. David over there. How familiar are you with Dante’s works?”
Cole only shrugged. His eyes passed over the rest of the class, resting briefly on Zoe, who scowled at him with both undisguised hostility and angry surprise. The boy shot her the slightest of smirks. His gaze flitted to the window, hesitated, then he moved to take his seat.
If he was part of the vanguard protecting Alex, Zoe’s reaction suggested the complete opposite. She continued to glower at him like he’d kicked her puppy, though Cole made no other attempt to look back at them.
“You know him?” Tala finally asked.
“Yes,” Zoe growled. “But he’s not supposed to be here.”
The lesson droned on. Tala kept sneaking glances out the window, but all the firebird did was preen its feathers and wriggle its butt, among other decidedly non-magical things. After attempts to wheedle competent answers from the rest of the class failed, Miss Lowry gave up and turned her attention back to Zoe. “Miss Carlisle, would you like to explain to the class Beatrice’s importance to Dante throughout the Divine Comedy?”
Zoe took a deep breath, schooled her features neutral. “To start, she was his symbol of both redemptive love and personal salvation. He—”
Cole snorted. It wasn’t a loud sound, but it was discernible enough to disrupt Zoe’s monologue. It was also the first reaction he’d made in response to her since sitting down.
Miss Lowry was quick to pounce. “Do you disagree with Zoe regarding Dante’s portrayal of Beatrice, Cole?”
“The man was a stalker,” he said flatly. “And an idiot.” The look he shot Zoe’s way seemed to carry with it the implication that this level of lunacy also applied to fans of Dante’s works.
“No, he wasn’t!” Zoe snapped, rising to the bait. She poked at the air with a pencil, as if she would gladly stab him with it, given the choice. “It isn’t a crime to write about someone you love. She was his redemption. That was the whole purpose of the Divine Comedy: to learn how to live a good life.”
“By indulging in disturbing fantasies about someone who didn’t know he existed? Guy did a good job.”
Zoe’s cheeks flamed. “He wrote about his shortcomings and personal experiences to give the work a level of realism. Dante never once forced his attentions on Beatrice. It was a kind of catharsis for him to write about her, and it gave the world one of the best works of literature in the process.”
“Chill those two out,” Tala heard someone behind her mutter. “It’s, like, a freaking book.”
From outside the glass, the firebird’s head swung back and forth between the combatants, like a spectator at a tennis match. Tala had an uneasy feeling this was not the first argument they had ever had, as if she’d somehow blundered into the middle of a play without knowing what the first act was about.
“What kind of person devotes his life to someone who can’t return his affections?” The boy’s voice held a mocking, acid undercurrent.
“It made him a better person for it,” Zoe shot back. “If it made him happy without offending anyone else, then—”
The bell chose that inopportune moment to ring, and the rest of the class immediately lost interest in the fight. “Read cantos three through fifty for Monday!” Miss Lowry managed to yell out through the suddenly noisy din. “The game is no excuse not to do your homework this weekend!”
The classroom emptied rapidly in two minutes, leaving only Tala, Zoe, and Cole, with the firebird pecking curiously at the glass outside. As soon as the last of the students departed, Zoe rounded on Cole, her blue eyes bright with anger. “What are you doing here?” she hissed.
“The Cheshire sent me.” The boy’s eyes flicked away from her to Tala. It was an assessing, searching glance, and not a particularly friendly one.
“That’s impossible. The Cheshire gave us pretty explicit instructions, and I’m very sure you weren’t part of it.”
One side of the boy’s crooked mouth curved up in a half grin. “I told him you’d make a mess of things, especially after Nova Scotia, and he agreed. I’m here to clean up after you.”
Zoe slapped him. Tala’s own head jerked back at the unexpected movement, as if she’d been the one on the receiving end. The force of the blow was strong enough to send the boy’s head whipping to one side.
“Let’s go,” Zoe snapped, grabbing her arm. Cole watched them leave, frowning, but did nothing else. Tala stole another glance at the window, but the firebird had already disappeared.
“I’m going to kill him,” Zoe fumed as she marched down the corridor. “He always does this to me. Always! Why can’t I have one day without his stupid snide?”
“How exactly do you know him?”
Zoe stopped. “He’s a Bander too. Unfortunately. But he’s not part of my team, and I have no idea what he’s doing here on his own.” She took a deep breath, realized she was still keeping a firm grip on Tala’s arm, and let go.
“Sorry. Forget about Nottingham. He’s an ass, but I know him enough not to screw this mission up just for kicks. What’s important is that you’re safe, and that we’ve found you. The others should be waiting at the school cafeteria. Hopefully one of them’s discovered where Alex has gone off to.” She paused. “That really was the firebird, wasn’t it?”
“This is the first time I’ve ever seen it.”
“Really? Damn. I was hoping you’d know how to attract its attention long enough to lead us to His Highness. Pretty good sign that Alexei’s somewhere nearby, though.”
“Hey! New girl!”
It was one of the baseball guys, Tom McClance. He was leaning on his locker and grinning at Zoe like a fool, as if Tala weren’t even there.
Zoe rolled her eyes and started stepping around him, but he blocked her path. “Listen. I know I didn’t make such a good impression earlier today—”
“You called me sweetcheeks,” Zoe reminded him. “You called me a bitch after about the eleventh time I said no.”
The boy shrugged like this was a perfectly normal thing to have done. “Sure, whatever. Look, lemme make it up to you. Classes are out for the day, so how about I show you around?”
“That sounds nice,” Zoe said politely but uninterestedly as she reached into her shoulder bag, “but Tala and I have other business to attend to.”
The guy frowned. “Hey. You’re not both dykes, are you? I mean, come on. You’re way too pretty to be one. I can understand Warnock here, but heck, I bet five minutes with me will help you change your mind, even if—”
“Tala,” Zoe said. “What would you say is the maximum range of your agimat? If I had a spell in my pocket, hypothetically speaking, how far away do you need to be for it to still work?”
“Um,” Tala floundered. “Maybe a couple of feet, at most? But if I concentrate well enough, you won’t have to move.”
“Good. Can you do that right now for about, say, five seconds?”
“What are you...?” McClance broke off in surprise. Zoe had taken a large silver needle out from her bag and, without hesitation, jabbed it firmly into his arm.
“Hey!” The boy leaped back, staring at the small wound, where a drop of blood had formed. He opened his mouth to speak, but that was as far as he got.
He stiffened once, then toppled forward, eyes rolling back into his head. He landed in a noisy heap on the floor.
“You can stop now,” Zoe said cheerfully.
“Did you kill him?” Tala risked nudging at the fallen jock with a foot, and quelled the urge to panic when the boy didn’t move. “Not that I’d be grieving or anything. But that would not be good at all.”
Zoe slid the needle back into her bag, the move so practiced and swift that the group of students now crowding over McClance’s inert form didn’t notice. “Of course not. The needle’s enchanted with a sleeping spell. He’ll be up before the day’s out. Eventually.”
“How did you do that?”
“Spelltech isn’t just for mobile phones and cars. You’ve heard of Talia Briar-Rose, right? The Sleeping Beauty? Pricked by the needle of a spinning wheel and all…except there’s not really much point in making someone sleep for a hundred years anymore. Legend says she took the weapon for her own, that she kept a long needle in her boot just in case she didn’t have her sword on hand, and that it was equipped with spells a lot deadlier than just knocking you out like this one does.”
“Isn’t that illegal, though?” Tala stared at Zoe’s bag like she expected a horrible monster to climb out of it.
“It helps to know some very good spellforgers,” Zoe said with a grin. “And I’m about at my limit with guys today. Besides, I’m not the one with the firebird. I know you’re a Makiling and that this town is not the best place to learn more about what we’ve got at our disposal, but you’ll get used to it, sooner or later. Everyone does. Shall we go find the others? They’re really excited to meet you.”
Behind them, McClance began to snore.