Page 79 of Magdalene Nox

Magdalene gathered her papers. The crowd was no longer under any semblance of control, regular conversations and yelling, arguing and cheers mixing into a cacophony that was beginning to give her a headache. She rubbed her temple. It was time to depart. No doubt the nine trustees behind her would demand she make herself available to them immediately, and she needed to catch her breath first.

She turned off the microphone and made to leave the podium when a loud, impatient voice rang out from the far end of the quad. The sound made her grit her teeth.

“What about the scholarships? What about the students?”

Orla Fenway. That tactless piece of… just couldn’t keep her mouth shut without making everything so much more difficult than it needed to be.

Lily, Amanda, Suzie, Tally… All the scholarship girls. Their faces were tense, some were clearly tearing up. All because a righteous ass was using them as a cudgel to beat the new headmistress over the head and to score cheap points with the sympathetic crowd.

She was othering them so blatantly. The road to hell was paved with the good intentions of people like Orla Fenway. Or in this case, the no-so-good ones. In the distance, she noticed Sam shaking Joanne’s restraining hand off her elbow, clearly ready to intervene.

Magdalene proceeded to press the microphone’s ‘on’ button yet again and utilized her most disinterested tone.

“What about Dragons’ students, Professor Fenway?” She paused, but only for a second. There was no need to milk this. People all around understood her intent loud and clear, even if Fenway chose to be ignorant and hateful.

“Three Dragons is a private school for young women. All young women who want to study here. With the additional funding from the agreement regarding the Astronomy Tower, the school will not be cutting scholarships for any and all who need them. Moreover, Dragons will be expanding those scholarships to better reflect the actual ethnic, racial, and religious makeup of the state, which is something the school does not achieve right now. In centuries past, Dragons was always a trailblazing institution when it came to diversity and inclusion. Long may it continue.”

In the distance, she could see Sam’s shoulders relax. There were seventeen freckles on the right one and twenty-three on the left. Magdalene blinked away her thoughts and leaned into the microphone once more.

“And, for the record, Professor Fenway, even if there would not have been enough funds raised, I’d have paid for the ten students currently on scholarships at Dragons myself. Being the Headmistress makes me part of the school, hence my sponsorship would not have been against the charter. However, surely you’d agree that having the Astronomy Tower contract in place makes the scholarships much more sustainable than relying on the Headmistress’ personal fortune. Now, dear guests, enjoy the refreshments!”

She stood for a second longer than necessary, the sun suddenly emerging from the clouds behind her, its warmth on her back, and the wind sweeping her hair, and looked into the crowd at nobody in particular.

This was but one battle, and behind her, the war was truly brewing. But for just one moment, she allowed herself to taste victory as Fenway turned away and marched off, surrounded by a gaggle of her supporters. As she passed by Sam and Joanne, neither of them looked at her. The Vacheron on Magdalene’s wrist felt lighter.

22

OF HOWLING CROWDS & UNBRIDLED COURAGE

It felt a little like crawling through hell as it was breaking loose around her. Magdalene tried not to look back, understanding what Orpheus must have endured, because it seemed almost impossible to walk this gauntlet and not turn to see who else was hurling either insults or praises her way.

They shouted, yet parted like the sea before her. Even Orla had made herself scarce. Magdalene had no illusions she would face the hag soon enough. In fact, if she were a betting woman, she’d put some serious money on seeing her predecessor in her office in about the time it took Magdalene to reach it herself. Where she was sure to get into a serious shouting match with the trustees, whose seething presence she could feel behind her as she made her way across the quad and towards the towering building of the school.

As she crossed the threshold, she broke her stride and finally turned around. But her gaze lifted beyond the buzzing crowd and the angry men. There’d be enough time for that. No, her eyes drifted towards one sight that could center her. As Lily and Amanda were hugging it out and kissing in the middle of the quad, the Dragons watched from a distance, benevolent and silent, overlooking the human spectacle unfolding in front of them.

The children, as much as the cliffs, reminded her of what was important as she nodded to the fast-approaching trustees, signaling for them to follow.

She took the stairs up to the third floor and had to smile. They were pursuing her like greyhounds during a hunt. There was no way they wouldn’t have been hot on her heels. Timothy’s smirk told her he’d realized that her pretending to invite them gave her at least some semblance of control over a situation that was about to turn volatile. She had lit all the fuses, and now she’d reap the detonation.

The door to her office barely opened, Joel Tullinger unceremoniously pushed in, not waiting for her to enter first. Well, so much for chivalry. For the hundredth time, she wanted to kiss Sam for breaking this pompous jackass’s nose.

Timothy let her pass with a slight bow and she made a production of walking in and thanking him with a wink and head tilt.

Magdalene took a look around the crowded room, mentally counting. She’d seen Alden ambling towards the school at a slower pace, so she guessed he’d join them in his own time. The door opened once again, and Orla Fenway stepped in, just as Magdalene had predicted. The witch would not miss the fireworks, since she had to see to the hornets who were out for blood after Magdalene had kicked the nest. Still, something was missing. Someone. Within seconds, a loud meow of profound disgruntlement and offense could be heard even before Willoughby—with a speed quite uncharacteristic of his majestic broad self—ran inside. Hissing at everyone to make way, he first jumped onto her desk, then bestowed a rather powerful headbutt on her side before finally slowing down.

Magdalene ignored the dumbfounded stares from the assembled trustees and gave him a quick scratch before picking him up and settling him down on his windowsill pillow. Close enough that he’d feel part of the proceedings. And well, close enough that she’d feel her furry ally had her back.

She almost shook her head. This damn island got her to consider a mangy cat an ally. Willoughby narrowed his eyes as if he guessed where her thoughts had gone, and she reached into the little bag on her desk and fed him a treat. He relaxed and took it from her fingers, apology accepted.

When she turned back to face the room, the atmosphere was even more poisonous than before. Seemed like making them wait while she tended to the cat had only added insult to injury.

Mission accomplished then.

Because they would wait until she was good and ready to have this foolish argument. It was time to settle something once and for all. And Joel Tullinger, Augustus Rolffe, and the rest of this pathetic lot would back the hell off and know their place once she was done.

Magdalene sat down behind her desk and placed her hands palms down on the only piece of paperwork laid out on the expanse of the centuries old oak. Her contract.

“Well, I was going to say ‘make yourself at home,’ Joel, but you certainly seem to have done so already.”

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