Gemma's POV
Coming back to Spence is like revisiting a place I've been to once long ago. I remember only those things that really stuck out, the exciting and fun moments. But after only minutes of being back at this grand academy and reliving those parts of my stay, I came back to reality as Mrs. Nightwing took in my dripping appearance as I stood in the front hall, freshly soaked from the downpour outside.
"My goodness, Ms. Doyle. Even though I came here to welcome you back to school, I must address your, ah, somewhat damp attire. Come now, hurry to your room before Brigid is cleaning up a lake. Ms. Bradshaw should be up in her rooms, as it is truly quite late. You could have chosen a more convenient time to appear, you know." Ah, yes, this is how I truly remember it being. Dear Mrs. Nightwing admiring the latest fashion from London, and having Brigid burst in with a worrisome face and mop, all the while mumbling about how all of us girls should be taught how to make an entrance, if nothing else.
I'm skipping over the part in the end of Rebel Angels where Gemma receives the box. We all read it, and I hate rereading things by a worse author than the first
"God save us from vanity, and forgive us for our cares about fashion. It is we who shame ourselves as to care for money and try to make ourselves the popular. Lord, forgive us for our many sins committed during your son's birth. Let us return to school with clear minds and put away our flashy dresses for the uniforms of the lord. Amen," we all chorused together on the last word in monotone.
Felicity nudged me, and whispered, "Only the most holy of priests could have said a sermon so...to the point." I giggle, and Ann leans across me to be in on the joke.
"What? What is so funny? Felicity, Gem-ma," she whines.
"Ms. Bradshaw," Mrs. Nightwing appears quite suddenly from behind us, "that will be quite enough talking during prayers." Ann looks at her clasped hands and mumbles an apology. Mrs. Nightwing gives an abrupt nod before walking away.
"Whew," Felicity feigning wiping her brow, "what has Mrs. Nightwing so strung tight?"
Cecily, who is sitting directly in front of us, pretends to need to fix her dress and sits back in her seat, then whispers, "A certain cousin of mine whose aunt's brother-in-law's daughter's childhood friend lives near Cambridge saw Mrs. Nightwing over her holiday break." Everyone sports doubting faces. Mrs. Nightwing isn't supposed to leave during holiday. "She said that Mrs. Nightwing might be removed from her position as head of Spence." We all gasp audibly. Mrs. Nightwing comes over with her long strides and glares at us. I growl my frustration. Some say patience is a virtue, but I think waiting is a nuisance.
I don't have a chance to talk to Cecily until we are all in the great hall. The room seems grander than I remember it, and I'm sure that those columns weren't like that. The nymphs, fairies, goblins, and other little strange creatures carved on the columns, that used to have malicious glares, look serene. It worries me. I remember back to when we had brought the magic of the realms to this world. I try to suppress a shudder, then head over to Cecily, where Ann and Felicity have already placed themselves comfortably on the last of the chairs by the fire. I say mock thanks before settling myself down in the center, all of us looking expectantly at Cecily.
Elizabeth squeals and says excitedly, "Go on, Cecily! Why is-" everyone hushes her, then she whispers, "why is Mrs. Nightwing being kicked?" She laughs, thinking herself daring for saying that. How boring her life must be to think that.
I exchange looks with Felicity, then glance over to Ann, who has a hurt expression on her face. Before I can do anything, she looks back towards Cecily, and urges, "Go on. Tell us, Cecily! You don't need to tease us!" We all stare for a moment. Is that our Ann who just spoke? I don't think I've ever heard her talk so clearly, so confidently, nor quite so fast. Cecily hasn't noticed, and has already begun speaking. I shake my head and look over to her.
"-changing the school system, so that schools aren't independent anymore. They wanted 'fresh blood'. And I'm sure that Mrs. Nightwing doesn't fit into that category. Though it would be very interesting to know how old she is." Elizabeth and her giggle, and I sigh with impatience. Funny how slow some days can seem. "There was also a debate over whether she was proper for us. There's been talk of her being in the company of some questionable people. Heathens, gypsies, and the like have been seen with her." Cecily leans in conspiratorially, making us all pull our heads in with anticipation, and she says, "They say she has been preaching about this other place, where you can just do whatever you want. And she says that someone has brought something like magic back! Apparently, she's been tracking down anyone who could have had the 'power' to get to the other side." Someone has brought the magic over? Who? I bound it to myself. What could have? I decide I will go to the realms tonight. What could have happened since then?
Elizabeth begins to openly laugh, "She's off her rocker!" She and Cecily begin chattering away, their backs turned to us. I look at Felicity, and she's gaping. I turn towards Ann, but find she's gone. I gesture at Felicity, and we both scurry over to her den.
"What on earth has happened since last we were there?" Felicity bursts as soon as we are in her spot. I shake my head dumbly, not sure of what had happened. "You." She looks straight at me. "Weren't you just telling me the other day about how everything was solved because you had bound the magic to yourself?" I am stunned. She thinks it's me who's brought the magic back? Doesn't she realize that I spend more often than not just wishing I wasn't capable of going there? I'm first ordered around and threatened by a group of men who are out to get power, then bossed around by my friends who think I'm a greedy, power-hungry girl, and finally I'm being faced with the whole realms and their magic. It's too much.
"Who do you think you are, coming at me like that? I have told you everything. Everything! And what do you do? Right when something seems even the tiniest bit suspicious, you immediately think I'm lying to you! And Ann! Where is that girl? She and you are always at it against me, so sure that I'm hogging a whole realm to myself. Maybe I've lied to you, but that was for protection. I am not a carriage between two places, just to be used until worn out, and then thrown away! I am my own driver! Whatever gives you the notion that you can tell me what and when to do things, I'm through with that! I'd rather go run off with those gypsies! And where is Ann?" I stop, my blood pulsing. I could call this feeling rage, but then I'd be being modest. I realize that Felicity is wearing a horrified face. A tear falls from the corner of her eye. I collapse and begin to sob, quietly, because we were in the great hall. That's when I realize that everyone is quiet. I look around through my tears, and find all eyes on me. I'm suddenly exhausted. I'm too tired to blush, and when Felicity says, "Oh," the whole hall erupts with girls whispering and laughing, and Mrs. Nightwing hurrying over.
"Good heavens, Ms. Doyle! What in the world is going on with you? Are you ill? Brigid, fetch tea for Ms. Doyle's room! Come now, Ms. Worthington, help me with your friend. Too much excitement from break and then coming back to school to receive a gift and all. You are going to stay in bed all of tomorrow, Ms. Doyle." Mrs. Nightwing takes one arm, and Felicity takes the other, and then I am half hoisted, half dragged out of the hall. I can't wait for Felicity and Ann to be with me. The realms are my responsibility, and I'll have to go by myself.
I free myself of the grips Mrs. Nightwing and Felicity have me under, and turn straight to them and say, "Yes, Mrs. Nightwing, I do believe that rest is the best thing for me right now. I have been under a lot of stress, and I have been losing patience. I'm sorry, and hope that you will forgive me. For now, I can escort myself to my own room. Thank you, though." The two look startled. I turn and walk off, leaving them that way. I know what I'm doing is hurtful to Felicity, because she knows that I'm going without her, but I can't help but feel as tightly wound up as I said I did.
I'm halfway up the stairs when I hear all noise fade away. I run to grab my blue cloak from my wardrobe, noticing Ann huddled in the corner of her bed. I am feeling irritable, but on seeing her look so troubled, I come to sit on the side of her bed. A sobbing noise escapes her. I sense something wrong, so I gently grab her shoulder and turn her towards me.
And I see it. Ann is very pretty, even with a red nose and swollen eyes from crying. I can't stop my eyes from growing wide. She has the realms' power. How did she get the magic?
"Ann…"
"Nothing is as it seems, is it Gemma? I always thought that the world was unfair. I tried-" another sob broke through her almost calm voice. "I thought the realms could make things as they should. But no, instead they just magnify the world. Everything hurts, Gem. Even with me pretty, and with a voice that could make angels cry, no one notices me. Not plain, old Ann." She brings her hands up to her eyes and the crying resumes. I notice she has a piece of paper in her hand. A very dirty, crinkled piece of paper. A lone name breaks into my thoughts. Kartik. No, no, no. He can't be back. He'll hurt me more. Or worse, we'll fall for each other. I've thought this through a thousand times. We can't be together. Maybe it isn't from him, I thought hopefully. Maybe…
"Ann, what is that?" I ask, gesturing towards the paper. She looks up at me now, straight at me. A slight smile forms on her lips.
"Gemma, if nothing else, I was using the magic to get men to notice me. A certain man, if you must know." She blushes a little before continuing. "That Tom is a hard fellow to attract. I can have money, wit, and beauty now. I can have grace, and charm, and a voice of heaven. They still don't see me. But he sees you," she sneered. I'm pretty sure we aren't talking about the same man anymore, and I can't help but be flattered, yet at the same time scared. "You, with all of your imperfections. Is it power that he wants, that men want? I have power now, but they still don't see it. Do I have to flaunt it, to get them to see me?" A wicked glare passes over her eyes, quick, but still visible. I was scared of this side of Ann. I didn't know there was a 'this side' of Ann. This is like a nightmare. I can't think straight, Felicity is turning on me, Ann has a hidden side. I am on the verge of tears. I know I sound weak, but I doubt many have stood in my position.
I manage to clearly say, "Ann," before she cuts me off.
"You want to know what this is?" She waves the paper at me. "This is a letter from that Indian boy," she spits out. I feel anger grow in me.
"There is nothing wrong with being Indian. He is Indian, and I am Indian." Even as I say this, I know it's true. As much as I have tried to be English, and as much as I am, there will always be that part of me that is of Bombay. "You may be beautiful, now, Ann, and you may have power, but nothing on this earth gives you the right to insult millions of people. Nothing gives you the right to say that to me. What is it?" Tears prick at my eyes, not for the first time today.
"So true, nothing gives me that." She says this with such a twisted, knowing voice, that I am almost certain that Ann has been given help to get the magic. How else? "How can that Indian fall for you, even when I have enhanced myself?" Ann starts to cry. I put my arm on her back and she leans into my shoulder, letting it all out. Even if she does have this very unlady-like side of her, I can see that she still has a part of her old self. "In the note, he said, 'At first, getting to the moon may seem impossible. But knowing that a friend is at the end has me determined. I follow you from this world to the next.'" Ann begins to cry harder. "Why is this so unfair? How do you get a man so romantic to love you so much?"
I am still digesting this. Kartik. He's back. And he's a terribly beautiful metaphorical writer. And he accepted that I can't have him, nor him me. This leaves me disappointed and relieved at the same time. Wait. Ann said love. Love. He doesn't love me. Then, I thought desperately, he can't love me. Stop thinking about this. I must think about Ann.
"Ann, I need you to calm down. There now," I say soothingly, rubbing her back. Why has everything fallen apart? "Ann-" she's gone. I fall forward onto her bed where before Ann had been sitting. Where is she? Now I am frightened. She is unstable, and has magic. What is she doing? What was she thinking about? Not Kartik, I pray, but I can't go to him now. I close my eyes and breathe slowly, trying to focus.
Where is that door? The light appears faded, as if there is a veil in front of it. The darkness around it feels stuffy, and I walk toward the door. It's as if I'm in a dark attic, with cobwebs and things strewn about everywhere, and a lit up room is just ahead. I find the doorknob, and blow out a breath of relief. It's wet and slippery. As if someone's wet hand had just touched it. I try not to shudder or think about what else could be in this darkness, and, with a little work, open the door.
