Regan looked dubious. “What question?”
“You can talk to horses, and to things that look like horses but can’t possibly be horses. Some of the things you mentioned have feathers. Horses don’t have feathers. So is it a shape thing, or a hooves thing, or what? Can you talk to cows? Can you talk to deer?”
“I don’t know what it is,” said Regan slowly. “I suppose it’s more shape than anything else. If something says ‘horse’ to the part of my brain that knows how to translate, I can do it. I understand what cows are saying, but I don’t know how to talk back to them, and I try not to listen too hard. Cows write really bad poetry about grass and clouds and the farmers they see by the fences, and it makes me sad.”
“Are you a vegetarian?”
“No, and that’s part of why it makes me sad.” Regan shrugged. “I like meat. I like sustainable farming practices and ethical slaughter and making the lives of domestic animals as pleasant and stress-free as possible, but I also like hamburgers, and steaks, and the sort of long-lasting energy I only get from protein. Honestly, I’m glad I’m not a vegetarian.”
“Why?”
“If I was, it would be because I know that cows write poetry. Which would make it part of what I’m supposed to be learning to forget, and means I would have been living entirely on bacon and bad dreams since I got here. They already restrict me to an all-meat diet.” Regan sighed. “Sometimes I dream about finding out which of the matrons sets the menu, and making her eat the slop they tell us is food.”
“Oh.” Cora frowned. “You didn’t answer the whole question. What about deer? Can you talk to deer?”
“They look enough like perytons that I can,” said Regan. “Why?”
“Because I don’t think any of us has ever met the headmaster,” said Cora. “We’ve met a man who says he’s Headmaster Whitethorn, and he does a pretty good job, but he’s not the headmaster, and I think we’re in an awful lot of danger here, if we stay.”
Regan stared at her. Cora beamed, looking relieved to no longer be carrying this terrible revelation entirely on her own.
“All right,” she said. “Let’s go find the rest of my class. If we’re going to start planning a way to get out of here, I guess we’ll need to make sure they can accept you as one of their own. While we walk, you can tell me about lichen.”
“Why lichen?” asked Regan bluntly.
“Because I expect the matron to ask what I was looking at that took me so long, and lichen’s about the most boring thing I can think of that still might be believable, and you look like the kind of girl who might know stuff about lichen.” Cora started walking, slow and decorous, leaving Regan plenty of time to catch up.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Regan.
“You can talk to horses. You don’t get to question me.”
“I like lichen. There’s nothing wrong with liking lichen.”
“That was exactly my point,” said Cora, and laughed, bright as a summer morning, and led her new friend deeper into the woods, away from the looming shape of the school, toward the trembling and uncertain future.
PART IV
JAILBREAK
13?LICHEN AND LIES
CORA’S CLASS WAS CONSIDERABLY deeper into the woods, clustered on the path and studying a leopard-spotted slug with the sort of intensity that most of them normally reserved for more fascinating things. Sumi had found a twig somewhere, and was poking the poor thing in the side. The matron—Miss Lennox, a matron with a name, a matron who could be picked out of the herd with an identifying mark, something that branded her as an individual—was standing a short distance away, technically supervising them, but shifting from foot to foot like she no longer quite knew what to do with herself.
That was interesting. Everything about this day had been interesting. Sometimes going undercover among the enemy was the best way to make a bad situation into a slightly better one. Cora approached Miss Lennox, Regan beside her and a pleasantly bland smile on her face.
“I found Miss Lewis in the woods,” said Cora. “I think she got lost, because there wasn’t anyone with her, but she didn’t hide or try to run away when I said hello, which means she can’t have been doing anything wrong on purpose. Can we help her find her way back to her dorm?”
Miss Lennox looked briefly confused. “I … Miss Lewis, where is your class? Who has responsibility for you right now?”
“I came so close to graduation, and the other Compulsion students don’t want to have me around, because they’re afraid I might hold them back.” Regan’s cheeks burned red with embarrassment. The color deepened as the other students turned to look at her, their eyes bright with the many unexpected excitements of the day.
“I see,” said Miss Lennox. “That’s—” She stopped, appearing to struggle with whatever she was going to say next.
Cora narrowed her eyes. That was interesting. She’d never seen a matron at a true loss for words before. But Miss Lennox didn’t look like a matron anymore, did she? She had when the day started, all bland disapproval and interchangeable strictness, but that had been before she had a name. Giving a person a name changed them.
He made a mistake, she thought, and it was a thrill and a delight and so big that she almost missed it when Miss Lennox started talking again.
“Well, that’s simply not fair, and not reasonable in the slightest,” she said. “Whoever is supposed to be responsible for you should be ashamed of themselves. I know you’re not a part of my dorm, but you’re welcome to do your studies with us until this can be settled.”
Regan’s eyes widened. “Do you mean that, ma’am?”
Miss Lennox didn’t even look annoyed at being questioned. “Of course I do,” she said. “We have a responsibility to make sure you’re given a proper education, and part of a proper education is seeing to your social needs and emotional health. I—” She stopped, making a small, startled sound and raising one hand to her forehead, closing her eyes in what was clearly pain.
“Are you all right, ma’am?” asked Sumi, dropping her twig.
“Of course I am.” Miss Lennox lowered her hand, the pained expression fading. “My health is not your concern.”
Interesting. Following her instincts—which had always served her well, or at least always been enough to get her out of trouble, even if they were the reason she got into trouble a lot of the time—Sumi smiled blandly and said, “Of course not, Miss Lennox. I understand my place. I simply didn’t want to disrupt the nature walk with a medical emergency.”
Miss Lennox blinked, expression a mixture of confusion and bewilderment, like nothing made sense anymore. It was fascinating. None of them had ever seen a matron look like that before.
“Right,” said Miss Lennox. Even her voice was different, dazed and slightly distant. Behind her, the girl without a name looked actively stricken. “Nature walk. Regan, please join us. We’re going to look for native flora and record it in our sighting books.”
“I would love to,” said Regan.