Chapter Seven - The Book of Keys
"We're going to be late!" It was Felicity's mother calling her from the sidewalk in front of their house. Felicity took one more glance around her room to make sure she had everything. She knew she could always send Solomon home but she wanted to make sure.
At the last moment, before leaving the room, she snatched up her Teddy bear off her bed and dashed out the door and down the stairs to where her father and mother waited by the car.
"Ready," her father said.
"Yup," she answered as she slid into the back seat of the car next to Solomon's cage and the boxes of supplies.
The supply list for Salem Academy resembled that of any New England prep school except for such items as wands, cauldrons, and books of magic spells and charms.
The car set out and soon they were on the highway headed north, passing the suburban cities and towns that fan out to the west of Boston. The drive, her father had warned, would be a long one.
Felicity couldn't help but think how much faster the trip would be had they flown, but with so much stuff to bring and her mother coming along, that really wasn't very practical.
It was now September and the air had the first hints of fall. They drove up Interstate 95 and Felicity gazed out the window at the passing fields and forests, which gave way, now only occasionally, to a town. They drove past an exit sign for "Governor Dummer Academy."
"What an odd name for a school," Felicity said to her father.
"It is the oldest boarding school for non-magical peoples in America. You'll likely have occasion to visit there for sporting events."
"You mean we play sports with regular schools?" For some reason, Felicity had imagined that Salem Academy only played magical sports against other schools of wizardry and witchcraft. It had not occurred to her that they would be competing against muggles.
"Yes, of course you do, but they are all away games. And no using magic, you hear?" The sound in her father's voice told Felicity he was only half-kidding about the matter.
They drove along through the Hampton Tolls in New Hampshire and, finally, across the bridge into Maine. A long drive still lay ahead of them. They stopped to eat in Portland at a restaurant that was on an old ferry boat docked in the harbor. Felicity thought how much Portland looked like Providence.
The country grew more rural as they left Portland, still driving north. At Waterville, they left the Interstate and drove along the banks of the wild Kennebec River, which grew ever more wild as they proceeded north along its shores.
The country grew wild as well, thought Felicity. What had once been small mill towns along the river gave way to tiny villages of white houses and fields cleared into the dense pine forests.
"Father was right," Felicity thought to herself. "Salem is a long way up here." The air was now noticeably cooler and smelled of pine trees. A sign on the highway read, "Salem," with an arrow pointing to the left. Her father turned onto a even narrower road, rough and bumpy from years of hard winters.
The road rose ever higher, twisting and turning as it went. Felicity was beginning to feel a bit sick, mostly from nerves, but the road wasn't helping matters any.
Then the car broke out of the forest they had been in. Felicity looked up on the hill to see the great stone buildings that were Salem Academy.
Salem Academy had been constructed over hundreds of years. Its buildings had suffered fires and other less natural calamities and had been rebuilt over and over again. The academy was, in many ways, the town itself. For, without the school, the tiny villiage of Salem would not have existed at all.
One unique feature of the school was that it was possible to go to any part of it without going outdoors.
"You'll come to appreciate that in February," Aunt Joan had told Felicity.
The buildings were constructed to resemble a medeival castle and they enclosed a courtyard on three sides. A central tower which, from the looks of it thought Felicity, had never quite been finished, overlooked the river far below.
The buildings were covered in ivy, which had crawled up the stone face and, in some cases, had completely overgrown the windows and doors. It could have been in Scotland or Germany from the looks of the place.
Felicity's father carefully navigated the car through a narrow archway that led to a circular drive. He parked in front of the main entrance. "Here we are," he announced.
Felicity got out and stretched. She was not accustomed to sitting for such a long time. Before her was a great oak door surrounded by a gothic arch. Above the arch was a granite stone, into which had been cut the words "Brattle Hall."
The door opened and who should appear but Mr. Goldstine, the wizard she had first met with her father on her birthday. He was joined by a man who was clearly his grown son, the son's wife and girl about Felicity's age.
Sarah Goldstine was a short girl with black curly hair, which she wore pulled back. She had more of a figure than did Felicity and that fact showed through her older sister's uniform, which seemed a bit to small for her. She wore round glasses with wire frames and had braces on her teeth.
Her parents, Benjamin and Judith Goldstine, looked like grown-up versions of their children. Benjamin worked as magic inspector in the Commissioner's office as did his father. Judith's job was to worry about her children. They lived in Newport, Rhode Island, in a lovely old house, according to Felicity's mother. Sarah had three older married sisters, each of whom had attended Salem and, as Sarah's mother oftimes reminded her youngest daughter, had met their husbands here.
"Now, Sarah," she said, "you be sure to wear a sweater each day up here. It can get cold up here, you know," she said in a worried way.
It was still warm and hardly sweater weather.
Sarah rolled her eyes a bit and said, "Yes, mother," in a way that said she had heard this kind of warning a bit too often for it to be effective any longer.
"Judith, she'll be fine. Come over and say hello to the Stockwells." Benjamin guided his wife over to Felicity and her parents. Grimsby Goldstine spoke up.
"Sarah," he said in a voice that was a bit too loud for the occasion, "this is Felicity Stockwell, the girl I told you about."
"Hi," Sarah said shyly.
"Hi," Felicity answered.
The two girls stood there, feeling awkward, while their parents chatted away for a bit until a tall lanky man in a tweed suit coat and khaki slacks came out the door.
Dr. Daniel Johannes Kepler Mather, OMEW, was the newly appointed headmaster, having only been at Salem Academy a few years. He had replaced a woman who was practically a legend in the wizarding world in America --- Miss Eva Pratt Brattle.
Mather was from an old family and was one of the very few American wizards to be educated at the lengendary Hogwarts School in England. He had come from there to teach sacred geometry and history at a number of American schools of wizardry and witchcraft, including St. Jeanne d'Ark School in Quebec and Ravenscroft.
He spoke several languages fluently, including a few long assumed to be dead. He was precise and a stickler for details.
Dr. Mather approached the group and was greeted by Grimsby Goldstine in his customary manner.
"Mather!" he enjoined.
Sarah started to giggle, which, of course, caused Felicity to do the same. Dr. Mather was clearly not accustomed to being referred to in such a casual manner.
Martin Stockwell, banker that he was, knew better. He extended his hand and said, "Dr. Mather, Martin Stockwell."
Once all the introductions of the adults had been dealt with, the attention then turned to the girls.
The introductions were made and Dr. Mather shook their hands, calling each Miss Goldstine and Miss Stockwell.
"Miss Stockwell" sounded funny to Felicity.
"May I suggest that we have these young ladies come in and sign the Book of Keys?" Dr. Mather gestured for them to enter the great oak door.
It was cool and dim in the great hall of Salem Academy. Felicity looked up at the ceiling with its dark wood. She could hear their footsteps as they walked down the hall. On the walls hung plaster reliefs of Greek gods and goddesses, with flowing robes placed over their bodies in all the important places. From time to time, one of these would move so as to follow the small procession as it walked toward the "Hall of Assembly."
The Hall of Assembly was a narrow hall with benches along both sides; each side of the room had four levels with seating for about 20 on each level. In the center of the room was a massive table with an equally massive book opened on it. Next to it was an inkwell and quill pen.
At the far end of the room was a group of chairs and a rostrum for a speaker.
On the walls were paintings of past headmasters and mistresses of the school, who gazed down on the little group with sour-looking faces.
The ceiling was made of oak beams and woodwork, into which had been carved gargoyles. Flagpoles stuck out from the walls; each held the flag of a state or nation from whence a student had attended. Felicity noted the blue and white flag of Rhode Island with its state motto, "Hope."
Dr. Mather informed the girls that this room was only used for schoolwide meetings and that each class was appointed a particular place to sit. The Master class sat on the ground level and the others each sat further up. The Entered class, which was theirs, sat on the back row.
Dr. Mather led them to the book.
This, he explained, was the Book of Keys, Salem Academy's oldest tradition. Every student who entered the school had signed their names in the book and received the key to the room that they would live in for the next four years. Because the book gave out the keys, it also decided the roommates, as well. In all the years of doing so, the book had never failed to choose roommates who were not compatible with each other.
"Remarkable," said Felicity's mother. "Some of us were not compatible even in college, let alone high school," she said.
"The book will also give each student a bit of advice or, as they are known, a motto, after they sign," Mr. Goldstine said.
Dr. Mather removed the quill pen from the inkwell and held it out to Sarah. "Miss Goldstine..."
Sarah took the pen and in round plump letters wrote, "Sarah Judith Goldstine." As she lifted the pen, the words "Steadfast and loyal" materialized under her name. Then there was a glow from the book and upon its page lay a brass key. Sarah picked it up. It was an old style door key with a wood insert and a leather strap tied to it.
Judith Goldstine offered the advice. "You keep your key around you neck so you won't lose it."
Next it was Felicity's turn. She walked up to the book and looked down at the pages of names. Some of the family names she recognized from her reading: Carrier, Jacobs, Procter, Good. Others she did not: Wellstone, Abarba, Chen.
Felicity took the pen from the inkwell and carefully wrote her full name, "Felicity Anne Stockwell." The book paused for a moment as her father looked over her shoulders, then the words "Shall open that which was locked" appeared on the page under her name. And then Felicity's key appeared.
"How curious," her father said. "Your motto is as strange as mine was."
"What was yours, Father?" Felicity asked. Felicity's mother stepped closer. She, too, was about to learn something of Martin Stockwell's past that she had heretofore not known.
Martin Stockwell stepped up to the book and carefully turned back the pages until he came to the year 1972. He went down the list until he came to his name.
Felicity looked at the old handwriting: "Martin David Stockwell III: From him shall come light."
"You're right, Martin, these are strange little sayings, aren't they?" Anne Stockwell said.
"Most people can't even remember theirs," said Grimsby Goldstine, trying to lighten the mood a bit.
"We should get the girls settled," Sarah's mother suggested.
"Of course," said Dr. Mather. "Feel free to use the main doors of Franklin Hall to unload."
And, with that, the girls were led out of the Hall of Assembly.
Felicity blinked in the bright September sun which greeted them. "I guess we really are Salem Academy girls now," she said to Sarah.
"Yup, no turning back now," Sarah said with a smile.
"So, what room are you in?" Felicity's mother asked.
In all the talk about their mottoes, the girls had completely forgotten to look at the room numbers which were stamped onto the ends of the keys.
"319," Sarah said, looking at the key which hung from her neck.
Felicity opened her hand and looked down at the key. It said 319 as well.
"Well, I'll be!" said Grimsby Goldstine. "In all the years I have been hearing about this, this is the first time that I can recall that roommates ever signed the book at the same time. It's just like I told you back in Providence, Martin. They are roommates, after all! How about that?"
"I've never heard of such a thing," added Sarah's mother.
"Neither have I," said her father.
The task of carrying all of Felicity's and Sarah's belongings up three flights of stairs would have been daunting but for the fact that Dr. Mather had dispatched several Master class boys to aid in the task. One was Roger's older brother.
"You must be Felicity," he said to her as he carried a box up the stairs. "My little brother's told me about you."
"He has?" Felicity felt a bit conspicuous for some reason. She wondered just what Roger had said about her to his brother.
Franklin Hall Room 319 looked out over the courtyard. It was a small room with two beds, two desks and two dressers, as well as two closets. The room had dark wood wainscoting on the wall and each desk had a small lamp with a green Tiffany shade, the type found in libraries.
Felicity chose the bed on the right. Her father turned the small crank that opened the window.
"You girls should let the owls out," he said.
Felicity and Sarah took the cages over to the window and opened the doors. The owls proceeded to flutter out and perch on the ledge outside the window.
"They'll be fine there," Benjamin Goldstine said. "At night they will fly off for food, but in daylight, they will stay right here should you need them."
After a bit, the belongings had been stored. It came time for Felicity's and Sarah's parents to leave. As they stood in the courtyard saying their good-byes, Felicity suddenly felt alone for the first time in her life.
Sarah's mother kissed her daughter and reminded her to keep warm, to eat only food that was kosher, and to put on an extra blanket tonight because it was cold up here in Maine.
In a moment, the parents were driving out the gate and down the road. Felicity felt as if she might cry, except for he fact that Roger had landed on a broom beside her. He studied her face for a moment and then said, "Hi, Felicity, do you want to go to supper?"
Roger was just back from LaQuidd practice and was sweaty and, to be frank about it, smelled rather badly. But the sight of him seemed to lift Felicity's spirits some. She introduced him to Sarah and the three of them headed off to the dining hall.
Eva Pratt Brattle stood looking out over the courtyard from the top floor of the central tower as students came and went in the last of the afternoon sun. She watched the three young students walking across the grass. The dark-haired girl whose sisters had been Miss Brattle's students, the boy in his athletics clothing carrying a LaQuidd stick and broom, and the young slight girl with the dark red hair.
"The Raisers," Eva said to herself.
"We're going to be late!" It was Felicity's mother calling her from the sidewalk in front of their house. Felicity took one more glance around her room to make sure she had everything. She knew she could always send Solomon home but she wanted to make sure.
At the last moment, before leaving the room, she snatched up her Teddy bear off her bed and dashed out the door and down the stairs to where her father and mother waited by the car.
"Ready," her father said.
"Yup," she answered as she slid into the back seat of the car next to Solomon's cage and the boxes of supplies.
The supply list for Salem Academy resembled that of any New England prep school except for such items as wands, cauldrons, and books of magic spells and charms.
The car set out and soon they were on the highway headed north, passing the suburban cities and towns that fan out to the west of Boston. The drive, her father had warned, would be a long one.
Felicity couldn't help but think how much faster the trip would be had they flown, but with so much stuff to bring and her mother coming along, that really wasn't very practical.
It was now September and the air had the first hints of fall. They drove up Interstate 95 and Felicity gazed out the window at the passing fields and forests, which gave way, now only occasionally, to a town. They drove past an exit sign for "Governor Dummer Academy."
"What an odd name for a school," Felicity said to her father.
"It is the oldest boarding school for non-magical peoples in America. You'll likely have occasion to visit there for sporting events."
"You mean we play sports with regular schools?" For some reason, Felicity had imagined that Salem Academy only played magical sports against other schools of wizardry and witchcraft. It had not occurred to her that they would be competing against muggles.
"Yes, of course you do, but they are all away games. And no using magic, you hear?" The sound in her father's voice told Felicity he was only half-kidding about the matter.
They drove along through the Hampton Tolls in New Hampshire and, finally, across the bridge into Maine. A long drive still lay ahead of them. They stopped to eat in Portland at a restaurant that was on an old ferry boat docked in the harbor. Felicity thought how much Portland looked like Providence.
The country grew more rural as they left Portland, still driving north. At Waterville, they left the Interstate and drove along the banks of the wild Kennebec River, which grew ever more wild as they proceeded north along its shores.
The country grew wild as well, thought Felicity. What had once been small mill towns along the river gave way to tiny villages of white houses and fields cleared into the dense pine forests.
"Father was right," Felicity thought to herself. "Salem is a long way up here." The air was now noticeably cooler and smelled of pine trees. A sign on the highway read, "Salem," with an arrow pointing to the left. Her father turned onto a even narrower road, rough and bumpy from years of hard winters.
The road rose ever higher, twisting and turning as it went. Felicity was beginning to feel a bit sick, mostly from nerves, but the road wasn't helping matters any.
Then the car broke out of the forest they had been in. Felicity looked up on the hill to see the great stone buildings that were Salem Academy.
Salem Academy had been constructed over hundreds of years. Its buildings had suffered fires and other less natural calamities and had been rebuilt over and over again. The academy was, in many ways, the town itself. For, without the school, the tiny villiage of Salem would not have existed at all.
One unique feature of the school was that it was possible to go to any part of it without going outdoors.
"You'll come to appreciate that in February," Aunt Joan had told Felicity.
The buildings were constructed to resemble a medeival castle and they enclosed a courtyard on three sides. A central tower which, from the looks of it thought Felicity, had never quite been finished, overlooked the river far below.
The buildings were covered in ivy, which had crawled up the stone face and, in some cases, had completely overgrown the windows and doors. It could have been in Scotland or Germany from the looks of the place.
Felicity's father carefully navigated the car through a narrow archway that led to a circular drive. He parked in front of the main entrance. "Here we are," he announced.
Felicity got out and stretched. She was not accustomed to sitting for such a long time. Before her was a great oak door surrounded by a gothic arch. Above the arch was a granite stone, into which had been cut the words "Brattle Hall."
The door opened and who should appear but Mr. Goldstine, the wizard she had first met with her father on her birthday. He was joined by a man who was clearly his grown son, the son's wife and girl about Felicity's age.
Sarah Goldstine was a short girl with black curly hair, which she wore pulled back. She had more of a figure than did Felicity and that fact showed through her older sister's uniform, which seemed a bit to small for her. She wore round glasses with wire frames and had braces on her teeth.
Her parents, Benjamin and Judith Goldstine, looked like grown-up versions of their children. Benjamin worked as magic inspector in the Commissioner's office as did his father. Judith's job was to worry about her children. They lived in Newport, Rhode Island, in a lovely old house, according to Felicity's mother. Sarah had three older married sisters, each of whom had attended Salem and, as Sarah's mother oftimes reminded her youngest daughter, had met their husbands here.
"Now, Sarah," she said, "you be sure to wear a sweater each day up here. It can get cold up here, you know," she said in a worried way.
It was still warm and hardly sweater weather.
Sarah rolled her eyes a bit and said, "Yes, mother," in a way that said she had heard this kind of warning a bit too often for it to be effective any longer.
"Judith, she'll be fine. Come over and say hello to the Stockwells." Benjamin guided his wife over to Felicity and her parents. Grimsby Goldstine spoke up.
"Sarah," he said in a voice that was a bit too loud for the occasion, "this is Felicity Stockwell, the girl I told you about."
"Hi," Sarah said shyly.
"Hi," Felicity answered.
The two girls stood there, feeling awkward, while their parents chatted away for a bit until a tall lanky man in a tweed suit coat and khaki slacks came out the door.
Dr. Daniel Johannes Kepler Mather, OMEW, was the newly appointed headmaster, having only been at Salem Academy a few years. He had replaced a woman who was practically a legend in the wizarding world in America --- Miss Eva Pratt Brattle.
Mather was from an old family and was one of the very few American wizards to be educated at the lengendary Hogwarts School in England. He had come from there to teach sacred geometry and history at a number of American schools of wizardry and witchcraft, including St. Jeanne d'Ark School in Quebec and Ravenscroft.
He spoke several languages fluently, including a few long assumed to be dead. He was precise and a stickler for details.
Dr. Mather approached the group and was greeted by Grimsby Goldstine in his customary manner.
"Mather!" he enjoined.
Sarah started to giggle, which, of course, caused Felicity to do the same. Dr. Mather was clearly not accustomed to being referred to in such a casual manner.
Martin Stockwell, banker that he was, knew better. He extended his hand and said, "Dr. Mather, Martin Stockwell."
Once all the introductions of the adults had been dealt with, the attention then turned to the girls.
The introductions were made and Dr. Mather shook their hands, calling each Miss Goldstine and Miss Stockwell.
"Miss Stockwell" sounded funny to Felicity.
"May I suggest that we have these young ladies come in and sign the Book of Keys?" Dr. Mather gestured for them to enter the great oak door.
It was cool and dim in the great hall of Salem Academy. Felicity looked up at the ceiling with its dark wood. She could hear their footsteps as they walked down the hall. On the walls hung plaster reliefs of Greek gods and goddesses, with flowing robes placed over their bodies in all the important places. From time to time, one of these would move so as to follow the small procession as it walked toward the "Hall of Assembly."
The Hall of Assembly was a narrow hall with benches along both sides; each side of the room had four levels with seating for about 20 on each level. In the center of the room was a massive table with an equally massive book opened on it. Next to it was an inkwell and quill pen.
At the far end of the room was a group of chairs and a rostrum for a speaker.
On the walls were paintings of past headmasters and mistresses of the school, who gazed down on the little group with sour-looking faces.
The ceiling was made of oak beams and woodwork, into which had been carved gargoyles. Flagpoles stuck out from the walls; each held the flag of a state or nation from whence a student had attended. Felicity noted the blue and white flag of Rhode Island with its state motto, "Hope."
Dr. Mather informed the girls that this room was only used for schoolwide meetings and that each class was appointed a particular place to sit. The Master class sat on the ground level and the others each sat further up. The Entered class, which was theirs, sat on the back row.
Dr. Mather led them to the book.
This, he explained, was the Book of Keys, Salem Academy's oldest tradition. Every student who entered the school had signed their names in the book and received the key to the room that they would live in for the next four years. Because the book gave out the keys, it also decided the roommates, as well. In all the years of doing so, the book had never failed to choose roommates who were not compatible with each other.
"Remarkable," said Felicity's mother. "Some of us were not compatible even in college, let alone high school," she said.
"The book will also give each student a bit of advice or, as they are known, a motto, after they sign," Mr. Goldstine said.
Dr. Mather removed the quill pen from the inkwell and held it out to Sarah. "Miss Goldstine..."
Sarah took the pen and in round plump letters wrote, "Sarah Judith Goldstine." As she lifted the pen, the words "Steadfast and loyal" materialized under her name. Then there was a glow from the book and upon its page lay a brass key. Sarah picked it up. It was an old style door key with a wood insert and a leather strap tied to it.
Judith Goldstine offered the advice. "You keep your key around you neck so you won't lose it."
Next it was Felicity's turn. She walked up to the book and looked down at the pages of names. Some of the family names she recognized from her reading: Carrier, Jacobs, Procter, Good. Others she did not: Wellstone, Abarba, Chen.
Felicity took the pen from the inkwell and carefully wrote her full name, "Felicity Anne Stockwell." The book paused for a moment as her father looked over her shoulders, then the words "Shall open that which was locked" appeared on the page under her name. And then Felicity's key appeared.
"How curious," her father said. "Your motto is as strange as mine was."
"What was yours, Father?" Felicity asked. Felicity's mother stepped closer. She, too, was about to learn something of Martin Stockwell's past that she had heretofore not known.
Martin Stockwell stepped up to the book and carefully turned back the pages until he came to the year 1972. He went down the list until he came to his name.
Felicity looked at the old handwriting: "Martin David Stockwell III: From him shall come light."
"You're right, Martin, these are strange little sayings, aren't they?" Anne Stockwell said.
"Most people can't even remember theirs," said Grimsby Goldstine, trying to lighten the mood a bit.
"We should get the girls settled," Sarah's mother suggested.
"Of course," said Dr. Mather. "Feel free to use the main doors of Franklin Hall to unload."
And, with that, the girls were led out of the Hall of Assembly.
Felicity blinked in the bright September sun which greeted them. "I guess we really are Salem Academy girls now," she said to Sarah.
"Yup, no turning back now," Sarah said with a smile.
"So, what room are you in?" Felicity's mother asked.
In all the talk about their mottoes, the girls had completely forgotten to look at the room numbers which were stamped onto the ends of the keys.
"319," Sarah said, looking at the key which hung from her neck.
Felicity opened her hand and looked down at the key. It said 319 as well.
"Well, I'll be!" said Grimsby Goldstine. "In all the years I have been hearing about this, this is the first time that I can recall that roommates ever signed the book at the same time. It's just like I told you back in Providence, Martin. They are roommates, after all! How about that?"
"I've never heard of such a thing," added Sarah's mother.
"Neither have I," said her father.
The task of carrying all of Felicity's and Sarah's belongings up three flights of stairs would have been daunting but for the fact that Dr. Mather had dispatched several Master class boys to aid in the task. One was Roger's older brother.
"You must be Felicity," he said to her as he carried a box up the stairs. "My little brother's told me about you."
"He has?" Felicity felt a bit conspicuous for some reason. She wondered just what Roger had said about her to his brother.
Franklin Hall Room 319 looked out over the courtyard. It was a small room with two beds, two desks and two dressers, as well as two closets. The room had dark wood wainscoting on the wall and each desk had a small lamp with a green Tiffany shade, the type found in libraries.
Felicity chose the bed on the right. Her father turned the small crank that opened the window.
"You girls should let the owls out," he said.
Felicity and Sarah took the cages over to the window and opened the doors. The owls proceeded to flutter out and perch on the ledge outside the window.
"They'll be fine there," Benjamin Goldstine said. "At night they will fly off for food, but in daylight, they will stay right here should you need them."
After a bit, the belongings had been stored. It came time for Felicity's and Sarah's parents to leave. As they stood in the courtyard saying their good-byes, Felicity suddenly felt alone for the first time in her life.
Sarah's mother kissed her daughter and reminded her to keep warm, to eat only food that was kosher, and to put on an extra blanket tonight because it was cold up here in Maine.
In a moment, the parents were driving out the gate and down the road. Felicity felt as if she might cry, except for he fact that Roger had landed on a broom beside her. He studied her face for a moment and then said, "Hi, Felicity, do you want to go to supper?"
Roger was just back from LaQuidd practice and was sweaty and, to be frank about it, smelled rather badly. But the sight of him seemed to lift Felicity's spirits some. She introduced him to Sarah and the three of them headed off to the dining hall.
Eva Pratt Brattle stood looking out over the courtyard from the top floor of the central tower as students came and went in the last of the afternoon sun. She watched the three young students walking across the grass. The dark-haired girl whose sisters had been Miss Brattle's students, the boy in his athletics clothing carrying a LaQuidd stick and broom, and the young slight girl with the dark red hair.
"The Raisers," Eva said to herself.
