Chapter 25
At about half past midnight Constance materialised in the corridor outside Mistress Broomhead's office door. She paused for a moment. The strip of darkness underneath the door indicated that no light was on inside. Constance listened intently and once she was certain there was no noise coming from inside, she once again disappeared an appeared on the other side of the door. The heavy volume filled bookcases were even more imposing in the darkness and the ticking of the large clock on the wall seemed amplified in the silence on the night. Constance contemplated a light conjuring spell, but she was concerned it could attract the attention of someone passing either the door or window. Luckily there was a full spring moon, which cast a silvery glow throughout the room, producing just enough light for Constance to see by.
With a quick spell, she had unlocked the desk drawer and was relieved to see the pile of notes were still on the top. She carefully lifted them out and once she had done so she looked back at the drawer in puzzlement. Constance was certain that as she had withdrawn the papers, her fingers had brushed against the bottom of the drawer, but the drawer was far to deep to for the papers to have reached the bottom. Curiously, Constance reached her hand back into the drawer and once again felt the solid wooden grain beneath her fingertips, but the bottom of the drawer appeared to Constance much lower than the extent of her reach.
It was such a bizarre sensation that it took Constance a moment to register what she was seeing. Then it slowly dawned on her, whatever she was touching must be invisible. There was some sort of compartment or box concealed in the bottom of the drawer. Constance felt methodically around the inside edge of the drawer until eventually she found a small opening, just a little larger than her finger, on the top edge. Carefully Constance curved her finger beneath the opening and prised the unseen false bottom away from the drawer. When she had raised it high enough, she made several attempts to grasp the top edge of the invisible piece of wood and eventually succeeded in lifting it clear.
The bottom of the drawer was contained a neat stack of identical dark green folders, each one unlabelled. Constance hesitated for a moment, the rational part of her brain calculating the risk of prying at Mistress Broomhead's private documents, but curiosity got the better of her. She picked up the top folder and moved closer to the window to make advantage of the silvery moonlight.
The folder contained a neat stack of notes written in Mistress Broomhead's slanted script. Constance knew immediately from the combination of tables and notes that she was looking at the results of one of Mistress Broomhead's experimental studies, but it was not one she recognised. She scanned the pages and came across a table which looked as if it showed the study participants. Each one was labelled with P1 through to P6 with several other columns filled with numbers which Constance presumed were measurements of various physical and magical attributes. The final participant, labelled P6, was circled in green ink with the word "selected" written beside it in Mistress Broomhead's curved writing.
Constance rapidly flicked through the next few pages, looking for another reference to the selected P6. She found a paragraph about 5 pages into the document.
P6 identified for initial testing. P6 is younger than any previous pilot cases. No familial attachments suggest high suitability. Magical proficiency assessed through standardised light summoning test – extremely high.
Constance shivered as if she had suddenly been doused in cold water. With an almost erratic urgency now, she scoured through the endless pages of tables and figures for another reference to P6. Several more phrases jumped out her, the silvery moonlight made them seem also luminous on the page
P6 selected. Unusually high magical proficiency means baseline measures must be recalculated.
Begun use of spell on P6. Progress as hypothesised
Anomaly in P6 encountered. Spell not progressing as efficiently as in previous pilot studies. P6 high in independent thought, self-control and self-determination which may be impeding progress
Strength of spell increased on P6, review at usual interval
Higher strength spell remains unsuccessful in P6. Oral catalyst required
Oral catalyst administered daily to P6. Showing good levels of effectiveness
P6 showing resistance to oral catalyst and thus spell. Dose of catalyst increased.
Constance was entirely absorbed in the notes she was reading, with each new line bringing a growing sense of familiarity combined with dread. She was standing transfixed at the words before her when there was a sudden scuffling noise in the corridor outside. Constance froze, a silent black figure cast in the pearly glow of the moonlight, the folder gripped tightly between her long, pale fingers. She waited, riveted in place for what seemed like an infinite number of beats from the clock, until she was certain that there was no more movement outside. It had probably just been a mouse, taking advantage of the cats' outdoor spring hunting to scurry unseen along the college corridors. Nonetheless, the noise brought Constance to her senses, and she realised just how much danger she currently held between her hands. Constance longed to study the documents in more detail but knew now was not the time. What was more, now that she had stopped reading, she could feel her hands tremoring slightly, and a vague sensation of nausea rose in the back of her throat at the shock of what she had been reading.
Constance was so tangled up in her own thoughts that she barely registered what she was doing as she neatly drew the papers back together and returned the dark green folder to the drawer. It was only when she had unthinkingly completed the task of securing the invisible panel back into the bottom of the drawer that she began to come to her senses. Now the folders were temporarily out of sight, she realised she must set her mind to the task at hand. She riffled through the pile of notes she had first placed on Mistress Broomhead's desk when she arrived. Constance was relieved to see that the page with the bent down corner was still as she had left it, in the middle of the pile. Constance slid the page from the pile and saw the dark inky figure of Hemlock, still prowling the margins in an agitated fashion. Drawing the small bottle of clear potion from her pocket, Constance waited until Hemlock came to a momentary pause at one of the corners of the page, before allowing a few drops of crystalline liquid to fall on the tiny feline.
Instantly the ink began to seep across the paper in an expanding stain, before blossoming upwards off the page. In less than a few seconds, Constance found herself staring into the fierce golden eyes of Mistress Broomhead's cat. The two shadowy figures remained with their eyes locked for a moment, before Hemlock suddenly leapt from the desk towards Constance, emitting a fierce hiss. Constance hastily cast a protection spell which sent Hemlock skittering onto the stone flagged office floor. There the cat remained, prowling intently around Constance's feet, where she unsuccessfully swiped and scratched at the air an inch away from Constance's ankles. Deciding she could do nothing more than allow Mistress Broomhead to discover her irate cat the next morning. Constance closed the desk drawer, gathered up her potion bottle and disappeared back to her room where she quickly became absorbed again in all she had discovered.
At a little before ten thirty the following evening, after a day which had passed by for Constance in a self-absorbed blur, Gwendoline arrived at Constance's bedroom as arranged. Constance, after a day of ruminating in isolation, barely allowed them to exchange greetings before she told her friend, in her usual concise style, all she had discovered in Mistress Broomhead's office the previous evening.
"And the thing is" Constance concluded "I have thought about it from every possible angle and I think the only rational conclusion is that P6 – the selected participant – is me"
"Yes" Gwendoline, who had listened intently to all Constance had to say, nodded "I think you are right. Which also suggests that one of those five pilot cases, the ones she was testing before she settled on you. One of them was most likely me"
"Gwendoline, I'm sorry, I didn't even think" Constance felt a rush of guilt wash over her as she realised she had been so wrapped up in her own discovery that she hadn't even spared a thought for the other subjects of Mistress Broomhead's experiment.
"No matter." Gwendoline waved her hand dismissively "The real concern is, what exactly is Mistress Broomhead testing in this experiment. What does the spell do? I have an inkling and I think you might too Constance. And I suspect we know what this catalyst it too. But I think before we do anymore, it is even more imperative I try to watch you sleepwalking. That might give us some concrete answers rather than simply hypothesising.
Constance nodded in agreement. The two talked a little more, and then Gwendoline bid Constance good night and left to take up her post in the corridor outside Constance's room. Sat on a cushion leant against the opposite wall of the corridor, Gwendoline looked at the closed door to Constance's bedroom and made a firm promise. She had been growing increasingly concerned about Constance over the past few months, and now she silently vowed to set into motion some plans which she had been making in her head for some weeks now. As she settled down for a night of keeping watch, a grim sense of foreboding settled over Gwendoline as she contemplated what exactly it was she was about to find out.