Green Rider

“Uh, no.”

Miss Bayberry raised both brows. “But surely you must know since you carry a magical device.”

“I—”

Karigan looked at Miss Bayberry, then Miss Bunchberry. Their faces were flat, their eyes questioning. The house creaked in the stillness.

“You are a Green Rider, are you not?” Miss Bayberry asked.

“No, not exactly.”

The ladies exchanged glances and rounded their mouths into O’s.

“Our question to you, then,” Miss Bunchberry said, “is who are you?”

Karigan shifted uncomfortably in her seat under their intense gazes. It was as if the room had suddenly iced over. She realized she would have to do some fast talking or . . . Or what? What could these two possibly do to her? With all the talk of magic and ghosts, better not to find out.

In acknowledgment of their penchant for propriety, she stood up and bowed the formal bow of the clans: one hand over her heart, and bending deeply at the waist.

“I’m Karigan G’ladheon of Clan G’ladheon,” she said. “At your service.”

“A merchant greeting,” Miss Bunchberry said in hushed tones to her sister.

Miss Bayberry remained unmoved, absently caressing the smooth handle of her cane. “You’d best tell us your story, Karigan G’ladheon.”

Karigan cleared her throat uncertainly. She glanced at the fire, finding some comfort in its warmth and cheerful crack and pop. “I, uh, left Selium rather abruptly.” She took a deep breath. “I was a student there, and the dean suspended me. Indefinitely.”

The sisters maintained their stoic expressions. Somehow it seemed terribly important to be honest with them. If she admitted her doubtful background, they would be more willing to trust her. Still, it didn’t make the telling any easier.

“The dean suspended me because I skipped classes and such. He said my, uh, attitude wasn’t good.” Blood crept up her neck and colored her cheeks, and still the ladies stayed mute, neither condemning her nor offering comfort. “The main reason he suspended me was because there was this fight. And I won.”

She could still see it clearly, the throng of students pushing and shoving around the practice ring to see what was happening, Timas Mirwell prone on the ground, spitting dirt, the tip of her wooden practice sword against the back of his neck. You are dead, she had told him.

Miss Bunch lifted a brow. “You were suspended for winning a fight?”

“I beat the heir of the lord-governor of Mirwell Province.” At the time, she hadn’t felt remorseful about challenging him to the fight, then thrashing him. He had humiliated her in a number of other ways since the first day she arrived at school, and she had finally had enough. But now, under the steady scrutiny of the Berry sisters, she had a new perspective. She felt childish.

“All right,” Miss Bayberry said with a dismissive gesture. “You’ve established you were not the most desirable student which, in the end, caused you to leave Selium. Did you not think to face your problem?”

Karigan’s cheeks grew warm again. “I was too angry. I ran away. That’s when I met F’ryan Coblebay.”

“Ah,” said Miss Bunchberry. “This is what we were wondering about.”

Karigan wiggled in her seat and felt the weight of their gazes on her again. But she had nothing to be ashamed of with this part of the story. She told them of how she encountered F’ryan Coblebay, dying with two arrows in his back, and anxious for her to carry his message to the king. She was careful about what she told them—it wouldn’t do to reveal more than necessary. She wished she hadn’t let the message satchel out of sight. She finished with her narrow escape from Captain Immerez and his men.

The sisters glanced at one another as if mentally conferring. The room warmed considerably.

“The spirit . . . that is, F’ryan Coblebay, wasn’t able to tell us so much,” Miss Bayberry said. “You’ve explained yourself quite adequately, dear child. Yours is a brave undertaking. Many would have quailed at carrying such a message under such serious circumstances.” She must have noticed Karigan’s stricken expression for she added, “Rolph the stableboy immediately placed the message satchel in the guestroom where you will be spending the night. No one has broken the seal of the message. Your other things await you there as well . . . except the device which is in our immediate care.”

“The . . . device?”

“Yes, the arcane device. The one that caused you to fade out when you faced those brigands on the road. The brooch, child.”

“Oh!”

“It isn’t a particularly powerful thing,” Miss Bunchberry said. “It may even be more trouble than it’s worth. Letitia brought it to Bay and me when she set about cleaning that muddy coat of yours. Poor soul just can’t abide mud. She’d clean it from the ground if she could.”

“Ahem, sister,” Miss Bayberry said. “Keep with the topic.”

Bunch sent Bay an annoyed glance, then continued. “Father had no one but us to confide his discoveries in, and to teach. Seven Chimneys wasn’t a proper school like Selium, but it didn’t keep him from his calling. Teaching, I mean. That’s why Bay and I are able to recognize arcane magic like the brooch. It is probable you accidentally invoked its one single power: fading out.”

Miss Bayberry produced the brooch in her upturned palm, seemingly out of the air. “We would like you to try to invoke the power of the brooch so we can see how potent it is.”