“Come on, I’ll give you a tour. Hopefully we will have missed all lessons by the time we’ve finished.”
“That would be a plus.”
“Come on then. Fire Stone first, and then we’ll find your prince.”
I took one last glance at myself in the mirror, pulling down the hem of my sweater so it sat straight on my hips.
“Sure, find me a prince.” I laughed. As Philomena pulled me through the doorway back into the draughty hallway, I glanced back into room thirteen and could have sworn I saw a stirring in the shadows by the window. Ignoring the brush of wind and the chill on my nerves, I ploughed after Philomena. Whatever this tour contained, apparently it was at top speed.
“So this is the mess hall.” She waved her arms at the cavernous space. Once it must have been the great hall of the castle. The vaulted ceiling above was scored with old worn beams, tired from holding up the weight of the roof for hundreds of years.
Philomena had given me a whirlwind run-down on the history of Fire Stone. The castle had been built on an ancient settlement, but no owners of the castle had ever stayed more than one generation before moving on to warmer, drier, more secure abodes. The school had been created a hundred years before, and it was the only institution to stand its ground within the ruins of the castle. The thick stone walls themselves dated back to the time of England’s Edward I. He’d brought war and destruction to the borders of Scotland in his bid to claim the land and quell the Scottish chiefs. But he’d never penetrated Fire Stone, nor got close. Some said the land was cursed before he’d even got here.
“You know a lot about this,” I’d said when Philomena had given me a lively battle recount.
She’d grimaced. “I know, it makes me sound like a real geek, but I’m not, I promise. It’s just my parents were so obsessed with this land. I guess I just grew up knowing it all without really having to learn anything.”
My heart panged at what it must be like to grow up with parents who talked to you, shared their excitement with you.
But I didn’t need sentimentality. I didn’t have time for it.
“Here, come on, let’s get some food, I’m starved,” she said, stopping my pity parade for one.
I cast a quick gaze over Philomena. She didn’t look starved, but my stomach growled and I willingly allowed her to tow me along to a hot serving counter. Round lights glared down on what already looked like dried-up meat, cabbage, and potatoes. I smiled at the woman behind the counter. Her hair tied up under a cotton cook's hat, she was flushed and dabbing at her forehead with her arm. “I’m a vegetarian. Do you have anything?”
“Aye, lassie, I do.”
Philomena snorted and elbowed me in the ribs as the woman served up a plate toweringly high with extra cabbage and boiled potatoes.
“No lentils, or tofu? Protein maybe?”
She gave me another spoonful of cabbage. With a shudder at my plate and eternally grateful I wasn’t sharing a dorm with a whole bunch of other gas-filled girls, I turned for the counter. I had a little cash in my pocket I could pay with. I’d changed a few spare dollars into not many pounds at the airport.
There was no counter. It was odd. We didn’t have to pay for anything. No fingertip payment on a touchpad like I’d always known. We just took our towering plates of cabbage and walked to a table. Philomena guided us towards a table with six girls.
“Hey, this is Maeve.” She nodded her head towards me, her hands busy attempting to get her plate onto the table without losing a potato.
“Mae,” I corrected. I tried to smile at the people around the table, but my lips wouldn’t behave and stretched into an odd shaped leer. With sweaty palms, I lowered my own tray before I dropped it and made a scene.
Six sets of eyes lifted to mine, and I gave an awkward wave.
“Mae’s from America,” Philomena announced, and I wanted to kick her feet under the table. I tried, but she was just out of reach. My foot connected instead with the shin of a blonde girl with elfin features and dazzling blue eyes.
“Ow.” She bent down and rubbed her leg.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—” I trailed off.
“Language.” A sharp voice called across the room. I turned slightly and found Mrs Cox glaring at me. I gave a wave of apology before dropping my gaze to my lunch companions.
“Bloody hell, has she got bat hearing?” I muttered.
“Language!”
A giggle ran around the table. “Okay, so, introductions.” Philomena continued her role as tour guide. Although as far as I could tell the tour so far had only included draughty hallways, dark and dim classrooms, and a wing we were forbidden to go in because it housed the male dorms.
I’d been almost relieved to see the odd male student walking about. I was beginning to think Fire Stone had its own unique segregation system.
“This is…” Philomena jumped into listing a bunch of names, jabbing her fingers at the girls around the table. “Blah, blah, blah, blah,” was all I heard.
I chuckled, brushing at my hair as my cheeks warmed to an uncomfortable temperature. “Okay, I’ll say sorry now because I won’t remember who’s who for a while.”
I doubted very much I’d
