Read Flunked Page 8


  Interesting. I wonder if that’s why Flora wasn’t evacuating. Is she looking to see if we’ve had a break-in, or is she letting someone break in? Hmm…I could use some good intel to my advantage. Two new hallways pop up behind Jax. I need to get down one of them and find Flora.

  “I guess I should get to my evacuation station then.” I start to walk away. “See you outside.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. I see that look in your eye.” Jax sizes me up. “You’re not going outside. What are you up to?”

  “Nothing,” I lie, holding my hand on one pocket to keep the brass rings from clinking.

  “You can tell me,” Jax says, leaning against the door to a room with a sign that says: Archery—Don’t lose an eye! Announce yourself before entering. “I’m trustworthy.”

  I snort. Seeing him standing there in his crisply pressed uniform with a dress shirt underneath his vest instead of the usual tee everyone else is wearing, I don’t believe that for a second. He looks too perfect, like he’s hiding something. “You still haven’t told me why you were trying so hard to escape one minute and then seem perfectly at home here the next. You haven’t tried to escape again since I got here,” I accuse him.

  Jax raises an eyebrow. “How do you know that for sure?”

  “I guess I don’t, but that doesn’t mean I trust you.” I sniff. “I’ve got things to do on my own.”

  “You sound like Kayla,” he mumbles. I move to walk away. “Better lose the loot. The noise of those brass rings will give you away before you even get where you’re going. If you get where you’re going.” He stares at the ceiling. “Not many people know how the hallways move like I do.”

  I take two of the brass rings out of my pockets. Jax motions for me to take out more. Ugh. I remove the third and leave the fourth safely in my skirt. One can’t do any harm. I drop the three of them in a bin of arrows near the door. Someone is going to be really happy when they score those beauties. “Fine,” I say begrudgingly. “If you really want to know, I’m following Flora, okay? She seems sketchy, if you ask me. First she’s in the woods, and now I’ve caught her going down a hallway instead of evacuating.”

  “Being headmistress means she has to make sure all her students are out before she leaves,” Jax says. “You realize that, right?”

  “Yes, but it still seems fishy,” I say. “I want to see what she’s up to for myself. If you have a problem with that, you can just go. But don’t tell anyone you saw me.” I point a finger at him. “You still owe me for the other day.”

  Jax looks down the hallway. “Fine. I’ll stick with you.” He motions for me to walk. “After you, my lady.”

  I don’t like his mocking tone, but I let it slip and head down one of the two hallways still open. We cross to another classroom (Wand training! Who knew?), head out a secret panel in the back, and then walk down another empty hallway. Halfway through, the hallway in front of us disappears.

  Instead of being annoyed, Jax breaks into a small smile. “Even better,” I hear him say as he pulls me down the new hallway and through a small door behind a staircase leading to the boys’ dormitories. The new passageway we’re in clearly doesn’t see much foot traffic. Cobwebs brush past my face as we move swiftly downward where the air is much cooler. It’s creepy in here. I don’t like this.

  “You want to spy on Flora? Then I know the best way to see her office without actually being seen,” Jax says. “We’re going to come up right underneath it.”

  “How’d you find this route?” I ask as Jax covers the only mirror in the hallway so far with his jacket to block Miri.

  “Our teachers are former villains,” Jax says. “Don’t think you’re the first person who wanted to check out Flora. I’ve done it too and have never found a thing.”

  “There’s always a first time,” I say, unconvinced. Down, down, down we descend to where the walls are mossy and there is a faint odor that my nose is not loving. When we reach the end of a hallway, I see a grate. Jax removes it and hands it to me.

  “Come on,” he whispers, and his voice echoes in the narrow duct. “We’re just a few feet away from her office, so be quiet.”

  I’m fairly petite, but I hear the narrow passageway creak as I shimmy. It’s hot and I’m starting to feel claustrophobic. I’ve done a lot of things to pull a job before. Crawling through an air vent is not one of them. I’m about to whisper just that when Jax stops near a large shaft of light above his head. He puts his finger to his lips and motions me over. I look up and see a familiar desk and standing lamp. We’re underneath Flora’s office.

  “I don’t see anyone up there,” Jax says. “Happy?”

  I peer through the grate, trying to get a closer look. The room does look empty. Darn. “I guess.” I turn away quickly and the lone brass ring in my pocket bounces out and hits the bottom of the air vent. Jax and I look at each other. He starts to laugh.

  “You kept a drape clip?” He holds his stomach.

  “It’s brass!” I say, and that’s when I hear a high-pitched squawk. “What was that?”

  “Harlow’s pesty crow?” Jax suggests, but his face says he’s not convinced. He looks through the bars again. “Kind of loud for Aldo though, isn’t it?”

  A shadow flies across the grate so quickly that we barely have a second to react. I hear a loud thud and see claws stretching through the bars. Jax quickly removes his hands.

  SCREECH!

  The sound is so loud my ears are ringing. That is definitely not Aldo.

  The screeching only gets louder, and then the grate above us starts to move. Jax begins to pull me back just as a hairy claw pulls the grate clear off and a face peers down inside.

  “What the—?” Jax starts to say as two glowing red eyes stare back at us.

  The shape of the eyes, the claws…it’s so familiar. “Gargoyles,” I say almost to myself, and then I hear the ear-piercing sound again.

  “Gargoyles aren’t real,” Jax tells me.

  That’s the last thing I hear him say before one flies through the grate after us.

  CHAPTER 10

  We’ve Got Company

  Jax pushes me forward. “Run!”

  I don’t have to be told twice. With one hand I scoop up the brass ring, and with the other I pull my body forward through the grate, moving as fast as my hands and knees will take me. I hear more thuds echoing through the duct. More than one of those beasts is after us.

  Gargoyles are real. Gargoyles are real. I knew I saw one move!

  Their high-pitched wails are so loud that Jax and I are actually forced to stop for a second to cover our ears. Out of the corner of my eye, I see them. They’re wrinkly and dark gray with red eyes and long wings they fold under themselves, but the long, sharp claws on their hands and feet frighten me the most. One lets out a long wail when he sees us and Jax shoves me forward again, shaking me from my trace.

  My heart is pounding and I can hear their nails tapping at the grate as I fly forward, seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. I throw myself out of it. I am relieved to see Jax right behind me. I run for the grate, prepared to put it back in place the minute Jax is clear to hold off the gargoyles. It seems like a good plan until I see Jax’s face twist in pain and he begins sliding backward into the tunnel.

  “Gilly!” he yells.

  I drop the grate and grab Jax’s hands, pulling as hard as I can, and get nowhere. It’s like we’re locked in a tug of war and Jax is the rope. The screeching makes it almost impossible to hear, but I see Jax’s lips moving.

  “My shirt pocket!” he yells, and I let go of one of his hands to reach inside his shirt. I pull out a vintage pocket watch that looks like it cost a fortune. What’s this got to do with anything? I think as another wail from the gargoyles makes me wince. “Open it and aim it at them. Them! Not me!” he yells.

  I open the watch and hear Jax yell a word I don’t
understand. Then I am momentarily blinded as a bolt shoots from the watch and hits the gargoyles. Their screams are deafening, but their hold on Jax relaxes. I yank Jax so hard that the two of us go crashing to the floor.

  “Give me that,” Jax says, pulling the watch from my hand. “I think you singed my pants!” Sure enough, his pants are smoking. The hems are shredded where the gargoyles grabbed him. Tiny drops of blood drip down his calves.

  “You could say thank you!” I bark as I try to stand up, but my legs are quivering.

  “For almost getting us killed?” Jax yells back. “You just had to spy on Flora.”

  Then a wail stops us both in our tracks. We look at each other, and I know we’re both thinking the same thing. Those gargoyles are not dead.

  “Shoot the watch thing again!” I say, scrambling to my feet and grabbing his arm to run.

  “I can’t! It only works once an hour.” Jax takes the lead, pulling me along.

  The shrieking intensifies as the gargoyles fly out of the duct and after us down the hall, picking up speed. “Duck!” I yell as one dives at Jax’s head. The exit is just ahead of us. Just a few more feet. A few more… “No!” I scream as my shirt takes flight—and me along with it.

  “Kick!” Jax yells, pulling on my leg. “Kick harder!”

  The gargoyle’s face is so close I can smell its rancid breath. Its claws rip through my shirt and sink into my back. I scream and immediately my mind takes me to my siblings. I’m not going out like this. They need me. I kick harder, wiggling like a worm until my leg hits the gargoyle hard in the stomach.

  The gargoyle wails and drops me. Jax breaks my fall, half catching me, half stumbling to the door, which he throws us both through. We slam it shut and lean against it as the gargoyles screech madly.

  “I can’t hold it,” Jax yells, gritting his teeth as he pushes against the door.

  “Me either,” I say, breathing heavily. My back is burning from the gargoyle’s scratches. “What are we going to do?”

  I hear sparks and look up. An enraged Flora is holding a mirror with a stunning mermaid inside. “Move!” she commands us.

  We don’t have to be told twice. A long bolt of light flies out of the mirror and zaps the door we were just holding shut. The door behind us flashes purple, and then the shrieking and pushing stops. The hall is eerily quiet.

  “You two are lucky you knocked the jacket off the mirror in the hallway.” Flora sounds out of breath. “Or you would have been gargoyle food! What were you thinking—sneaking off instead of going to your evacuation stations?” she thunders.

  “I thought I knew a shortcut,” Jax says quickly. “Then we ran into those living statues.” Jax gives me a look. I kind of think it says, “Now you owe me.”

  “How were we supposed to know the gargoyle statues were real creatures?” I ask Flora.

  “No one knew they were real until half an hour ago!” Flora says, sounding exasperated. “That’s why we had the evacuation—so the staff could stop them and students could get to safety, not use the time to sneak around school!” Headmistress Flora purses her lips. “I’m disappointed in you, Miss Gillian. I thought you wanted these three months to go as smoothly as possible.” Her face gets a little too close for comfort and I smell roses, which always remind me of a funeral. “Go looking for trouble inside these walls, and trouble will find you. Now, both of you thank Madame Cleo for saving your lives.”

  “Thank you,” we mumble.

  “My pleasure, darlings,” Cleo sings. “Pretty but foolish little darlings that you are. Who planted those things here, Flora?”

  “I don’t know, but I want every last statue removed until we figure that out.” Flora smiles thinly. “As for you two, there is to be no talk of gargoyle statues coming alive and trying to rip students to shreds. I’d have to schedule extra therapy classes to deal with the reaction.” She holds her head. “You’ll both spend the next two weeks with Madame Cleo in detention for almost getting yourselves killed.” Her eyes narrow. “And if you ever sneak off during a drill like that again, next time I’ll make it four weeks—if you live to tell the tale.”

  “Yes, Headmistress Flora,” Jax and I say dejectedly.

  I thought gargoyles were tough. Detention with a sea siren might be worse.

  Happily Ever After Scrolls

  Brought to you by FairyWeb—magically appearing on scrolls throughout Enchantasia for the past ten years!

  From the Sea’s Biggest Menace to One of FTRS’s Most Beloved Teachers: Say Hello to Madame Cleo!

  by Beatrice Beez

  Name: Madame Cleo (the mermaid formerly known as the “Sea Witch” or “Sea Siren,” depending on who lived to tell the tale. No pun intended.)

  Former Occupation: Scaring sailors, making fishy deals for personal gain, trying to destroy the Little Mermaid’s chance at love

  Current Occupation: After a memory-loss spell meant for a shark accidentally zapped Cleo instead, the Sea Siren’s quest for villainy disappeared. She now teaches dance and etiquette to students at FTRS. “I couldn’t be happier! Dance is… What were we talking about?”

  Hobbies: Water aerobics, listening to classical music, attending Under the Sea balls

  Strengths: Sorcery (“I may not know what I ate for lunch, but I could never forget a good spell!”) and teaching good manners (“I love it when students say, ‘Good morn, Madame Cleo.’”)

  Weakness: A lack of legs. “Breathing on land seems overrated. I see no need for a pair.”

  Likes: Shiny gifts and Rapunzel’s shampoo (“The salt water does a number on my hair, darling.”)

  Hates: Sushi and high-pitched sounds

  Love Life: “Who has time for men when you’re trying to save Enchantasia from poor posture?”

  Check back next week for more Fairy Tale Reform School Fifth Anniversary coverage.

  CHAPTER 11

  Something’s Fishy

  Headmistress Flora feels the need to hand-deliver me to Madame Cleo’s detention the next day after classes, and I soon find myself standing in front of an oversized metal double door. I read the large plaque near the entrance: Warning! If doors are locked, do not magically open. Tank may be refilling or flooding!

  “Where are we? The aquarium?” I joke.

  “You could call it that,” Flora says, “but I wouldn’t. This is the entrance to Madame Cleo’s home, and she’s gracious enough to invite you in for detention.”

  I look down at my plaid jumper and navy vest. “I’m not dressed for a swim.”

  “A swimsuit won’t be necessary,” the Wicked Stepmother says cryptically. “You’ll start etiquette classes here later this week as well. You’ll see we keep students busy. It keeps you from getting bored and, shall we say, interested in less savory extracurricular activities.” She gives me a long, hard glance.

  She means things like thieving, brawling with gargoyles, and spying on villains.

  Flora turns on her heels and walks away. “Enjoy your afternoon, Miss Gillian.”

  I pull on the double doors to see if they’re locked due to a water leak. Unfortunately, they open. When I slip inside, I feel the temperature drop significantly, along with the lighting. The spacious but dimly lit room has a two-story ceiling but no windows. Slurp! I hear the doors lock and seal behind me, and I wonder if I’ve been led into some sort of trap.

  I look for another exit, and that’s when I see a giant fish tank shimmering in the darkness. Fish of every size and color swim by, dodging between bright coral and sea plants, and hiding among the giant rocks nestled inside. I put my face near the glass and peer into the tank, which seems to go back for miles. Aren’t we inside a castle?

  The torches flicker and then the doors open. Several students run—or fly—inside. It’s mass chaos to get in before the final bell. When it tolls, the doors shut behind us, and with another slurp, I hear them se
al shut again.

  “Hey, sticky fingers.” Jax smiles. “How are you feeling?” He’s changed out of his uniform and is wearing an FTRS T-shirt and gym shorts that show his bandaged legs.

  “Okay,” I say. I have no dirt on Flora that could spring me early, and I can’t tell anyone that the gargoyle statues around school came alive and attacked Jax and me. I am just super. “Yesterday was…weird, huh?”

  Jax’s face is filled with shadows in the low light. “That’s one way to put it.”

  “What do you think those things wanted?” I whisper. “Where’d they come from?”

  “I don’t know and I don’t care,” Jax says, twirling his book bag’s strap in his hands. “Look, we almost became gargoyle stew yesterday. You need to think like a thief. Stop worrying about what Flora’s doing, and worry more about yourself.”

  Think like a thief. I always have…and now I’m stuck here unable to help my siblings. Is anyone making sure Hamish doesn’t eat glue and Felix doesn’t stay up all night by candlelight to read? Are they getting enough to eat?

  A light in the aquarium grinds our conversation to a halt. I turn toward the tank and watch as a blur shoots toward the glass. Once the water stops moving, I see Madame Cleo, who until yesterday I’d only seen in that mirror frying up gargoyles. She is the most beautiful mermaid I’ve ever seen. Her purple hair is decorated with sea flowers and shells that match her shell top. Her skin and long, dark green fishtail shimmer brightly.

  “Hello, darlings!” Madame Cleo’s voice echoes through the room. How does she do that? Other mermaids have to hold up cue cards in class to talk. I guess being the ultimate sea siren makes for powerful magic.

  “Good afternoon, Madame Cleo,” we say in unison and either bow or curtsy.

  Since I have little use for curtsies, mine is rusty. I bang into the girl next to me.

  “Watch your step, clumsy.” The girl turns toward me, and I stare into the eyes of someone who is definitely half cat. Or maybe werewolf? Who can tell?