Watching our teacher, I was reminded of the one time I had taken laughing gas at the dentist’s office. I’d had to have a wisdom tooth pulled and he had assured me that the nitrous oxide would make the procedure completely painless.
It hadn’t been painless though—I could still feel what he was doing to my tooth, only I couldn’t stop laughing despite the discomfort. I remembered thinking distinctly, “This is awful! It’s not funny at all but I can’t help laughing!”
After that experience, I had never wanted laughing gas when I went to the dentist again. It was just too weird feeling like my emotions were being chemically manipulated into laughter, though what my body was feeling wasn’t a bit funny.
Looking at the Home Ec teacher—who was literally laughing like a hyena—I had the idea she might be feeling the same way I had on the nitrous oxide.
“Miss…hehehehe…Latimer,” she finally managed to get out at last. “Headmistress’…hahaha! Office. Now! Hehehe-hahaha!”
“What? But I didn’t do anything!” Megan exclaimed.
Mrs. Hornsby was clearly beyond answering. She grabbed Megan by the arm with one hand and me with the other and marched us both firmly out of the classroom.
The last thing I saw as we exited Home Ec with our madly laughing teacher was Nancy and the Weird Sisters watching us with satisfied smirks on their faces.
11
Kaitlyn
Megan had told me that the one time she had visited Headmistress Nightworthy’s office, it had been down a long, mysterious tunnel-like corridor that seemed to go on forever and took no less than thirty minutes of steady walking to get to.
However, the teachers must have had some kind of magical shortcut because all Mrs. Hornsby had to do was walk around the corner nearest the Home Ec classroom and down a short hallway. I barely had time to snatch the hairnet off my hair and hide the left side of my face again before we found ourselves in front of a large wooden door with the words, Headmistress printed on it in flowing gold script.
Letting go of me for a moment, Mrs. Hornsby banged on the door with one fist, still laughing like crazy all the while.
I heard the Headmistress say, “Come in,” and the door swung open, as though by its own volition.
Inside, Headmistress Nightworthy was sitting at an old-fashioned solid wood desk that looked like it had come straight out of a Victorian novel. The rest of the office had a similar theme with a plush oriental rug on the floor and a grandfather clock ticking a stately rhythm in one corner.
The Headmistress, who had a sleek cap of silver hair and bright blue eyes, had obviously been writing a letter at her desk. But the moment she looked up and saw the state Mrs. Hornsby was in, her eyes widened and she put down the old-fashioned quill pen she’d been using at once.
“My gracious, Myra!” she exclaimed to Mrs. Hornsby. “Whatever is the matter?”
Mrs. Hornsby tried to answer but all that came out was a cackling, exhausted-sounding laugh. She pointed at Megan and me furiously and tried to mime eating something from a plate with a fork, giggling madly all the while.
Headmistress Nightworthy frowned.
“Miss Latimer,” she said to Megan. “I think you had better explain—and quickly.”
“I wish I could, Headmistress, but I don’t know what’s going on!” Megan exclaimed. “Mrs. Hornsby just took a single bite of our chocolate cake—she was going to taste it to grade it—and then she started laughing and it doesn’t seem like she can stop.”
“Are you certain you don’t know what happened to Mrs. Hornsby?” Headmistress Nightworthy leveled a steely look at Megan. “Because she appears to be under some kind of a spell.”
“Yes! Ha-ha-ha! Spell!” Mrs. Hornsby nodded her head emphatically.
Megan turned pale, her few freckles standing out on her white cheeks.
“Not one I put on her, Headmistress, honestly! I’ve kept my promise to you—I haven’t done a single bit of magic outside of class ever since you made me swear not to.”
“Well then who did this?” Headmistress Nightworthy demanded, glaring at us.
She looked so frightening with her piercing blue eyes focused on us like a laser beam, I could barely make myself speak up. But I knew I had to say something.
“Headmistress,” I said faintly. “I think maybe…maybe it was Nancy Rattcliff.”
“Nancy?” Megan frowned. “But she can’t do anything but nice magic now! I made sure of it!” She gestured at our still giggling Home Ec teacher. “And this is not nice.”
“No, but remember she and the other two Weird Sisters both came by our table and said spells?” I reminded her. “And they were laughing at us when we were leaving—I saw them.”
“Whole…heeheehee…room was…haha…laughing!” Mrs. Hornsby gasped out, a look of outrage on her face, even as she continued laughing herself. Clearly her lack of dignity in front of her class was bothering her as much as the fact that she couldn’t stop laughing in the first place.
Headmistress Nightworthy frowned.
“Well, this does seem to be a conundrum.” She clapped her hands sharply and suddenly one of the little gnome-like gerrunds appeared.
Nocturne Academy employed these lesser Fae as messengers instead of using an intercom system in order to avoid interrupting teachers with endless announcements. The gerrund was a little man—about three feet high—with a long white beard tucked into his belt and a pointed red cap on his head. He bowed to the Headmistress deeply, the tip of the cap brushing the floor.
“Yes, Mistress of Nocturne, what may I do for you?” he asked in a surprisingly deep baritone voice.
“Go and get Ms. Yasmeen at once and bring her here,” the Headmistress instructed him. “Tell her to dismiss her class early—she is needed urgently and I don’t think she’ll be back before the bell.”
The little gerrund bowed again and took off like a shot, leaving the office and scampering down the hall on his teeny booted feet.
He was back
