Page 18 of School Spirits
Much as I hated that, I couldn’t argue. The sun felt good on my face, and there was something undeniably pleasant about drifting down a stream flanked with flower bushes and weeping willows. “Where is this?” I asked. “Someplace you knew?”
Torin abandoned the oars and leaned back, closing his eyes and lifting his face to the sun. “You know the answer.”
“Set you free and I’ll find out,” I muttered.
He nodded, replying, “Even so.”
“Since that’s not going to happen, any other reason you decided we should row our boat merrily down the stream?”
“You were grinding your teeth as you slept. It was both annoying and concerning, so I thought an outing would do you some good.”
“First off, don’t watch me sleep, and secondly—”
“Oh, hush,” Torin said with no real heat. “Can’t you just lie back on your pillows and enjoy this lovely summer’s day?”
“It’s February, and Iamlying back,” I reminded him.
“In the outside world,” Torin said. “But in here, it can be whatever we want.”
That was a dangerous line of thought. Torin was good at this kind of thing; offering dreams and wishes and perfect days. But none of it was real, and none of it was free.
Still, it was nice to feel warm and drowsy in the sunshine, not worrying about Finley or Mom or ghosts or—shudder—high school.
Leaning over the side of the boat, I let my fingers trail in the cool water. It took me a second to realize I didn’t have a reflection. Sitting up, I squinted at Torin. “I get the no-mirrors thing, but even water is unreflective?”
“My rules,” he said easily.
There was a flash of movement on the far bank, and I lifted my head to see a woman moving along the shore. She was wearing a heavy dress of purple brocade, the sunlight picking up hints of blue in her black hair. “Who’s that?”
“Hmm?” Torin turned his head, and seeing the woman, he scowled. “What is she doing here?”
A flick of his wrist, and the woman vanished; but Torin kept scowling. “That’s odd. I didn’t invite Rowena here.” He squinted at me. “Did you?”
“Since I don’t even know who Rowena is, no.”
Torin turned his gaze back to the spot where she’d been. “Rowena was a member—” He broke off, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “No matter.”
I sat there waiting for him to say more, but Torin simply closed his eyes, tilting his face to the sun. I didn’t know much about the life he’d lived pre-mirror, and sometimes I wondered if that was for the best. It was too weird to think of Torin as just a normal guy—a normalboy, really—wandering around in the world.
We were quiet for a long time, and I might have dozed off. Was that even possible? Sleeping inside of a dream? With Torin, who knew? Still, I was startled when he suddenly said, “You should just be yourself.”
“What?”
“You’re afraid these children won’t like you. That’s what you were grinding your teeth over in your sleep. Worrying how to make them like you, how to infiltrate their little group.”
He lifted his head, looking at me intently. “But the person you are is delightful, and they will like you if you’ll just…be that.”
I shifted, smoothing imaginary wrinkles in my heavy skirt. “So that’s your big advice? Be myself?”
Torin grinned, his teeth slightly crooked, but very white. “That’s it. Be yourself. Be Isolde Brannick, and they will have no choice but to adore you.” He reached out and took my hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it.
I was too stunned to do anything but sit there, my hand limp in his.
When Torin lifted his head, his eyes were bright green, almost the same green as the water we floated on. “Now, wake up,” he whispered.
I came awake almost instantly, my stomach in knots. According to my clock, I had three minutes before my alarm went off, pale gray light shining around the edges of my curtains.
Immediately, my eyes shot to the mirror, but there was no trace of Torin there. Which, considering how weirded out I felt, was a good thing. What the heck had that been? The hand-holding in the last dream had been one thing, but hand-kissing was, to quote Maya, a whole ’nother ball of wax.
