Chapter 25
It had only been one week since she’d left the school, but summer had come early and it felt so much warmer now.
Bryn had the driver drop her off in the front circular drive—the same place she’d pulled up in her rental car that first night.
But far from being deserted, this time there were many other cars lining each side of the drive, halfway down to the road below.
She couldn’t think of what would account for it.
Nothing had been planned, in any case, which meant this must be … a spontaneous event?
When the school had its usual open house days, inviting folks from the community, parents of the children, and alumni, they used an improvised parking lot down at the bottom of the hill and ferried people up in shuttles.
This was something else. She’d never seen so many cars this close to the castle.
It was surreal when compared to her first time returning, just her and the sunset and the palm trees swaying in the wind.
She said goodbye to the driver and went through the gates.
It was midday, on a weekend, and the place felt oddly empty; if it wasn’t for all the cars, making it clear that a lot of extra people were present on campus, it would have been spooky.
Bryn went up the broad steps and through the wide front doors.
A magically sparkling sign read MEETING, with an arrow pointing down the broad main corridor.
What meeting could they be having in the middle of a Sunday afternoon?
She followed the arrow, though she could tell, merely by guesstimating the volume of people who must be here, exactly where it would lead.
The Grand Hall was not commonly used for big school events, rather than classes.
It was a beautiful room: three gorgeous glass domes overhead, where crystals dangled at the top to catch the light and reflect it everywhere.
Wood paneling down the sides, except where there were stained glass windows and French doors, now standing open to let in fresh air.
The Great Hall was beautiful at every time of day, in every weather—even in the rain, because any light from outside would refract through the wet glass.
Today, the room was as full as Bryn had ever seen it.
The students in their official school robes were all sitting down at the front, and although it was the weekend, it seemed like all of them were present.
The professors, also in formalwear, sat on two rows to either side of the students.
She could see Mr Wicks and Piper, and Andi also sitting with the staff, but it was Amelia to whom her eyes were drawn and locked.
Amelia stood tall, her shoulders back, her chin raised.
She stood before the governors, who were arrayed in a semicircle on the left side of the stage.
Amelia was the only one on the right side.
The visual could not be more obvious: the school governors versus the headmistress.
Bryn, who knew how to sneak into most of the rooms at the school, slipped inside and stood under an archway at the back.
The magically amplified voices were clear and carried to every corner.
Governor Schneider, standing in the center of the group of governors with three others on either side, seemed to be mid-scold when Bryn entered, referring to “this public debacle” and “pursuing your idealistic agenda in a manner unsuited to an institution of tradition and excellence, such as Grimoire Academy”.
“You have manipulated the student body of this school, Headmistress,” Governor Schneider said.
She waved a hand at the rather large crowd.
“You have manipulated all of their families as well. Do not think that we will be scared into taking any action we do not believe is what’s best for the academy.
You cannot intimidate the governors of this school, Ms Hexford. ”
Bryn’s heart was racing, and her hands, which she had stuffed into her pockets to keep them from obviously clenching into fists, were clammy with anxiety.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to rescue Amelia from the dragons she was facing down.
But as the silence lengthened, she realized Amelia did not need rescuing.
“That’s Headmistress Hexford, Governor Schneider,” Amelia said, her voice low and mild.
“Not for long,” one of the other governors said, and Governor Blake of cursed memory smiled.
Amelia nodded. “I see that you have reached a decision. I’m sure it will come as no surprise to anyone here that I want what’s best for Grimoire Academy as well.
Not so very long ago, as the governors are so fond of pointing out, I was a student here myself.
The years I spent here at the academy changed my life.
I encountered ideas I never would have encountered otherwise.
I met people I wouldn’t have met. I had the opportunity to practice magic with some of the best witches this world has to offer, some of whom are here with us today.
” She gestured to the professors, a few of whom nodded.
She then added, “And others we are so, so unfortunate to have lost. I recognize that making me headmistress was never your intention, Governor Schneider. I can see now that you were in an incredibly awkward position when our former headmistress, Professor Herringbone, insisted that you do so.”
Madame Schneider cleared her throat as if uncomfortable at the reminder. There was a ripple in the audience, as if other people hadn’t known this detail.
“I know that I am young and inexperienced, and that my ideas are not shared by the majority of the governors, and in fact often not shared by the majority of my professors. But something Professor Herringbone said to us when we were still students has always guided me. She told us that ideas aren’t wrong.
They’re just ideas. Even when we disagree, even when we think they’re misguided, we learn something if we pursue them. ”
“Ms Hexford,” said Governor Blake gruffly, “you cannot argue that pursuing your ideas at the cost of these students, whose parents have settled them here with all trust, makes you a worthy headmistress.”
Bryn trembled with withheld rage. Not that wanting to punch stuffy old men in the face was a new sensation, exactly, but she was definitely closer to following through with it than she ever had been before.
Was this the kind of idea that Professor Herringbone had been talking about?
She remembered that lecture, and she remembered the challenges to it.
The professor smiling and saying, “If it harms none, do what you will. That’s more than a platitude; for some of us, it is a valuable life principle. ” Her anger ebbed as Amelia smiled.
“It is with no disrespect that I must tell all of you—the governors, the professors, the students, and our families—that my experiments will not always work out the way I would wish them to, but they will always be better than doing the same thing over and over and over in a rapidly changing world. Our students will not be prepared if we do not prepare them. Do we wish them to leave Grimoire Academy, pursue their lives, their careers, their university courses, and be behind the other magical children their age?”
“I hardly think that’s what we are doing,” said Governor Schneider, though her voice had changed timbre a little. It wasn’t less arrogant, but there was a quality to it that Bryn thought was slightly less assured.
“Governor, your argument to me has been that the way we do things here has worked for over a hundred years, and therefore it will work for another hundred years, and I must tell you that I think that is a grave disservice to our students.” Amelia put out a hand, palm up, towards the audience.
“A lot of people here also think that. I have a standing offer to return to the school where I trained.”
“A demon school,” scoffed Blake.
“Yes, a demon school where I learned things I would not have learned here or at any other witch school. I trust that I brought them ideas they wouldn’t have learned from other demons.
That is the nature of an integrated life.
Should I decide to leave Grimoire Academy—” the emphasis on decide was slight, but Bryn could see the governors had clocked it “—many of these students will go with me, and without its students, Grimoire Academy collapses.”
“If you are seeking to threaten us, Ms Hexford—”
“I’m not threatening you. I wouldn’t. There’s no need.
I’m merely explaining the consequences of one particular action.
Should I choose to leave this academy because I feel it is backwards and petrified and unwilling to accept that its students are already outpacing it—that modernity is here whether we like it or not—I have already extracted an agreement that witches can attend my training school as students. ”
A murmur of shock rippled through the audience, but Bryn felt herself grin.
Witches at a demon school. What was next?
Vampires? Fairies? Sirens? She imagined Luna dancing through the halls of Grimoire Academy on her way to class.
It was preposterous, and also somehow extraordinary.
She wished she was sitting beside Piper and could take their hand and squeeze it, because she knew they were just as delighted by the idea as she was.
She didn’t even know for sure that Amelia was serious, but the thought of it was enough.
“It is the governors, Ms Hexford, who decide upon the headmistress of this institution,” said Madame Schneider.
Someone in the audience called, “It’s we who decide where our children go to school!” Another person cried, “Hear, hear.” A few people raised their hands and shook them side to side to show their agreement.
“I will not be blackmailed,” Schneider snarled. One of the other governors put a hand on her arm. She shook it off. “Do not attempt to force me into the decision that you want, Ms Hexford.”
A throat cleared. A professor stood. “It’s Headmistress. Governor.”
Bryn knew that voice very well. She knew it in that exact I will give you one more chance to straighten up tone.
Mr Wicks, on his feet, nodded to the governors.
“Governor Schneider, you and I were colleagues for a very long time. All I ask is that you maintain the respect the headmistress deserves while you are here in front of our students. If we do not respect the office of headmistress, how can we expect them to do so? How can we expect them to respect us?”
At this, the students, as if released from all obedience by their sternest professor’s words, cheered.
One of them called, “Headmistress,” and others took up the cry.
Bryn didn’t even have to look to know it was Luke, with Violet right beside him, chanting with all their classmates, and Circe on her feet with them.
“Head-mis-tress, head-mis-tress, head-mis-tress.”
It wasn’t over. It wasn’t going to be that easy.
But through a sheen of emotional tears, Bryn saw the governors retreat, leaving only Amelia by herself on the stage.
Bryn saw the moment when Amelia found her at the back of the room.
Even though there were a few hundred people between them, and even through the chaos of chanting students, their eyes found each other.
Amelia knew her in every stance and every mood, and probably would have known her magic anywhere, as Bryn would have known Amelia’s.
The headmistress coughed, the amplification for the first time working against her, and winced as the students shuffled and took their seats again.
“I thank you all for coming here today. It is so important that we embrace what it means to be a community of witches and non-witches, of magical people and non-magical people, of parents and families, children, siblings, aunts and uncles and grandparents, and community members from the town, who care about the future of this school and the students here. Whatever happens with the governors, whoever is headmistress next year, I want all of you to know that we value you very much and that we love our students with all our hearts.”
This time it was Violet dragging Luke to his feet and Circe on her other side. They clapped. Other students stood and clapped with them. And then, as if in a wave, everyone in the room was on their feet.
Bryn clapped until her hands hurt with the force of it, tears streaming down her face.