Page 31 of By the Orchid and the Owl
Our fifth and final class on the schedule was Worms, Spiders & Insects.
The instructor, we soon found out after filing into Building 3B and settling into desks, had permanent, calculating slits for eyes that seemed to cut into everything they landed on. Her arched eyebrows and chestnut hair tucked primly behind her ears only added to that sharpness.
Jenia began whispering to Dazmine, “This is going to be my favorite class, I think, since the butterflies chose me during Branding. Did you see how they—?”
“Butterflies,” the instructor interrupted, shutting the classroom door with a snap, “are among the dumbest insects and therefore feel most comfortable around humans of a similar nature. Now, this is not an open-discussion class, Ms. Leake, so I would appreciate it if you merely listened unless your name is called.”
A chilling silence. The back of Jenia’s neck flushed. I sank deeper into my seat, hoping the instructor wouldn’t notice me. Although the fact that she already knew all our names without ever having met us… I doubted shriveling up would prevent her attention if she wanted to call on me.
On either side of me, Emelle bit her lip and Rodhi absolutely beamed.
“My name,” the instructor began, “is Ms. Pincette. I am the island’s leading researcher on the nature of insects and the connection they pose to us who are gifted with Wild Whispering powers. Much like plants, you will find that worms, spiders, and insects are significantly harder to understand than animals, even with your magic, so this first year of class will focus on dissecting their various values first.”
Ms. Pincette whirled toward her blackboard stretching from one end of the classroom to the other and plucked up an unused stick of chalk.
“Let’s start with spiders. Can anyone tell me why spiders would be useful to us? I trust you will think beyond their spot in the cycle of life.”
Rodhi’s hand flung upward.
“Yes, Mr. Lockett?”
“My pa says they bring good luck,” he said eagerly.
Ms. Pincette waved a hand. “Purely superstition. Anyone else?”
Rodhi’s smile sagged. Nobody said anything. Nobody dared evenblink.
“Very well, then.” Ms. Pincette turned to scribble something on the board, her wrist jerking with harsh, sharp strokes. When she was done, the class gasped.
One hour ago, Mitzi Hodges and Norman Pollard confessed their undying love for each other behind the hibiscus bushes in the arboretum.
In the back of the classroom, Mitzi Hodges and Norman Pollard blushed.
“How could I have known this?” Ms. Pincette said.
This time, Rodhi raised his hand more hesitantly.
“Yes, Mr. Lockett?”
“You used the spiders as spies?”
A slight smile crept onto Ms. Pincette’s face.“Exactly. I used my spiders to spy on every single one of you the hour before this class. Most of you were doing just as Mrs. Wildenberg said and listening to the plants, buttwoof you snuck away to use that time for confessions… among other things.” Her lips twitched. “Your task before the end of this class, then, is to find a single spider hiding in this classroom. There are fifty of them listening in on us now, so once you find one you may leave. But I warn you… it might be harder than it looks. They are notoriously silent, so you must gather all your wits to catch the sound of their creeping. Begin.”
It took a moment for the screeching of chairs to fill the classroom as everyone began, dazed, to get out of their seats… and hunt.
Jenia, Dazmine, and Fergus headed straight for the baseboards and cornices. In the back, Mitzi Hodges and Norman Pollard rifled through their own pockets, as if to catch the spider who’d sold them out. Rodhi wandered over to Ms. Pincette’s desk, where she had sat to observe us. I watched him bend low to inspect the cracks around the polished wooden legs, whistling a jaunty tune that had Ms. Pincette raising her eyebrows at him.
Emelle and I aimed for the shelves lining the far classroom wall and began picking out book after book. To no avail. I coughed, waving the dust away, and—
An idea hit me.
“Emelle,” I said out of the corner of my mouth, “tell me a secret.”
“What?”
“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone else.”
Understanding sparked in her eye as she slid a book back in place.
