Storybound (16 page)

Chapter 23

U
na accepted the mug of tea Professor Thornhill held out to her. She sat in the stuffed plaid armchair and wished that she was somewhere else. Though she and Peter stayed up very late the night before, they had learned nothing new from Jedediah’s Tale. Una had tossed and turned in her bed, running the Muses and the Talekeepers through her mind in circles to no avail. She needed more information about the Muses and the old ways. And there was only one person she could think of who might have it. Setting up a fake advising meeting with Professor Thornhill had seemed like a good idea back in her dorm room. She had thought keeping her meeting a secret was payback for Peter sneaking off to the Museum without her, but now spying on Thornhill seemed like a very bad idea. As did meeting Thornhill alone in her apartment above the Villainy classroom.

Una wrapped her hands around the mug and scanned the room. Every corner was crammed with squatty-looking furniture and soft lamps that gave the space a sleepy air. Tapestries spanned the cracking stone walls, and rugs in warm reds and golds covered the floor. She was sure that Thornhill was hiding something. And her instincts said it had something to do with the old Tales. After all, Thornhill had known how to break Elton’s enchantment on the books from the vault.

Three purring and meowing cats paced the floor between Una and the professor. “Hello there,” Una greeted the cats, glad to find she wouldn’t be alone with Professor Thornhill after all. “What are your names?”

The cats meowed in response.

Professor Thornhill said quietly, “They’re not the talking kind.”

The striped tabby jumped up and settled on one side of the professor’s couch, and a soft calico curled up in Una’s lap. Una focused very intently on her tea. How was she supposed to tell talking animals and regular animals apart anyway?

She could feel Professor Thornhill watching her, her own tea left untouched on the side table.

“Well,” Una finally broke the silence, “about tomorrow’s exam . . .”

“Yes,” Professor Thornhill said. “We’ll talk about that in a minute. I always like to see how my students are getting on at this point in the semester.” Her pale hands reached for her mug of tea, and Una couldn’t help but stare at the long, spidery fingers. “You are a transfer student,” Professor Thornhill was saying, “from D’Aulnoy’s, isn’t it?”

Una nodded, but stopped midnod when Professor Thornhill added, “I studied there as a girl, you know.”

Una’s mouth went dry. Peter had said D’Aulnoy’s was an all-girls school somewhere up in the mountains, but that was all she knew of it—certainly not enough to pass Thornhill’s scrutiny.

“Do you have more sugar?” Una managed. She waved at Thornhill. “Oh, don’t bother. I’ll get it.” She hopped up, spilling the calico from her lap, and headed for the side table and the little sugar jar. She almost made it. In one fluid movement, she stumbled over the edge of a rug, tripped over a chair leg, and somehow ended up in a heap on the floor. In that moment, everything changed. She was only on the floor a few seconds, but that was all it took for Una to see behind one of the tapestries. She couldn’t be sure how many were there, but she had no doubt that she had seen some books hidden behind the beautiful fabric.

Professor Thornhill jumped to her aid in a very motherly fashion and helped Una to her feet. Una stammered a flustered thank-you.

It was some time before Una was settled again with a fresh cup of tea. Her mind was whirring. Did Professor Thornhill know what Una had seen? Could any of them be Muse books? Stirring her tea with a tiny spoon, Una said in her most businesslike way, “This will be my second practical examination.”

“So I’ve heard,” Thornhill said dryly.

Una hurried on. “What exactly should I expect?”

“Well, you’ll need to get there early tomorrow morning so you can meet your traveling companions. The exam will last two days, so make sure to pack camping gear.”

A bell rang in the distance. Thornhill left the room, telling Una that she wouldn’t be long.

“Take your time,” Una said.
Enough time for me to figure out what to do.
She didn’t trust Thornhill, but she couldn’t shake a nagging impulse to tell her the truth. If the Talekeepers themselves went to the Villainy teacher as the expert on the old ways, surely she knew something about the Muses. Una wondered what Thornhill would make of Jedediah’s Tale. Besides all that, Una had the feeling that Thornhill wanted something from her. Information? Confirmation of her suspicions that Una was lying about something? A chat with her daughter’s roommate? She looked at the small framed picture on the table next to her. It was Snow and Professor Thornhill. Both stood stiffly, an awkward space between them. Their arms were linked, but neither was smiling. Two sets of clear, striking eyes gazed into the camera, one pair ice-blue and angry, the other a bewitching green and very sad.

Just then, Thornhill rushed into the room, grabbed a small handbag, and raced back out. “I must go,” she called over her shoulder. “You’ll do fine in the exam. Lock up when you leave.” And then she was gone.

Una waited until Thornhill’s footsteps faded.
Finally! My luck pays off.
She hurried over to the tapestry and ran her fingers along the intricate scrollwork around the frayed edges. The calico joined her and started frantically tugging on the loose threads that dangled to the floor. “Oh, I know something’s there, little kitty,” Una said, nudging the cat away. “I already know.”

Una pushed the heavy fabric aside, sending tiny particles of dust flying. Spitting and hissing, the frightened calico scampered off. Una paused in the doorway, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dimness.

And then she waited for her eyes to adjust to the shock. The hidden space seemed to run the whole length of Thornhill’s apartment. It didn’t have all the odds and ends that were crammed into the other rooms. There were no colorful fabrics draped here. And it didn’t have just the few books she had seen after her fall. Except for a small walkway, the compartment was
filled
with books, piles and piles of books of all shapes and sizes. Some were propped up against each other. Others sat in tottering stacks that looked near collapse.

Una found a candle on a small shelf just inside and lit it. Letting the tapestry fall behind her, she sat down on the floor and greedily grabbed for the nearest stack of books. She flipped open the cover of the first, expecting to see blank pages, but was momentarily surprised to see the now familiar tree. The same one that was on Jedediah’s Tale and Griselda’s notebook. She picked up another book. More words. Of course Thornhill would have used the fire trick to make the books reveal their secrets! She sorted through the nearest pile. Surely some of these books had to have clues about the Muses. Una’s heart sped up. Or maybe even the King. She gave a great sigh of contentment. Then Una did something she’d missed doing since she first arrived in Story. She began to read.

Snow was tidying up the dorm room when the pounding started. She hurried to answer the door. Her mother stood there, breathless, her face filled with panic. She grabbed Snow in her arms and stood, gently swaying back and forth, muttering, “You’re all right. You’re all right.”

Snow stiffened against her mother’s embrace. They had never hugged before; they barely even touched.

Her mother stood back and ran her hand over Snow’s hair. Her eyes shone with tears. “I was so worried.”

Snow stepped back and looked away.
My mother? Crying?
“I’m fine,” she said. “What’s going on?”

Professor Thornhill sat down on Una’s bed and looked hard at Snow. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. Why are you so worried?”

Her mother pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to Snow. Snow sat down next to her and read, “‘Come immediately. Snow gravely injured.’”

She turned it over, but there was no writing on the other side. “That’s all? What does it mean?”

“I don’t know.” Her mother frowned down at the paper. “Especially since you’re all right.” She crumpled up the paper in her fist. “Why would—?” She froze, the paper forgotten in her hand. “Una. I was meeting with Una.”

Una sat with one of Thornhill’s books open in her lap. It was about a girl named Gretel Butterworth, and it didn’t take long for Una to guess that it told the Tale of Hansel and Gretel. It was a story Una had never had much patience with. Why had the children been so greedy? Couldn’t they have just paid better attention in the forest? But this version began earlier, when Hansel and Gretel were very small children, and Una had curiously read through their short history until she got to the chapter where they entered the forest. Sure enough, they came upon a candy-covered house, and the description of the marvelous treats made Una more sympathetic to the children’s lack of self-control than she ever had been before. But that was where the similarities ended. Una read through the whole segment several times,
but nothing else happened.
There was no witch. There was no kidnapping. No vengeful oven scene. They just ate all the candy, and then they went home
.

Una wondered if they went back later, but the next chapters quickly moved through Gretel’s girlhood and on to her life as a baker and young woman. Gretel was just about to receive her first proposal of marriage when Una heard footfalls in the room outside. She froze and held her breath.
Is Thornhill back?
What would she do if she found Una in her secret room? The footsteps grew fainter. Una painstakingly got to her feet, crept to the tapestry door, and peered through the crack at the edge of the heavy fabric.

On the far side of the room Mr. Elton was opening drawers, pawing through their contents, and shutting them. When he finished with the sideboard, he felt the couch cushions.
He’s looking for Alethia’s book
. She stepped back from the tapestry. And Una thought she knew where it must be. Somewhere in Professor Thornhill’s secret book room.

Maybe Elton would just keep looking in the furniture. At that moment, the little calico darted into view. It went back to playing with the string. Una glared at it. It tumbled over onto its back and tossed the string up in its four paws. The tapestry jiggled. She fruitlessly shooed the air, as though the cat could see her through the thick fabric. Elton was looking at the stuffed armchair now. Beads of sweat shone on his forehead. He punched at the seat cushion. The cat froze at the movement and then bolted. The tapestry flapped open wider. Elton looked up. Had he seen? He peered closer. He was coming over. Una pressed back against a mound of books. Her shoulder knocked the top volume off. She twisted and caught it expertly, gripping it tightly in her shaking fingers. The tapestry began to move.

From somewhere in the direction of the kitchen, a voice shouted, “Someone’s coming.”

She heard Elton curse, and the tapestry flapped back into place.

It only took a moment for Una to decide what to do. She looked out into the apartment.
Empty.
She started pawing through the mounds of books. It didn’t matter if Thornhill realized someone had been digging through them. This might be her only chance to find the Muse book before Elton did. She worked her way through another stack. How could she tell which one might be Alethia’s book? She grabbed her satchel and began shoving books into it. She had to take as many as she could. The one Elton was looking for might be in there. Besides, any of the others might hold more clues. Thornhill was probably planning to burn them, or explode them, or whatever it was she did to them.

Her fingers hurt as she crammed more books into the corners of her bag. She didn’t have much time. She tipped over a low pile, and then she saw it. The faintest hint of blue. She climbed over the fallen books and snatched it off its little ledge. A dragon rimmed in blue.
Alethia’s book.
That was when she heard the footsteps on the stairs. She’d never make it. Una wedged Alethia’s book into her cloak pocket. Then she pulled the tapestry closed with shaking fingers and held it taut. It would have to do.

“Una?” Snow said. “Why were you meeting with her?”

Her mother put a hand up to her mouth. “Of course. How could I have been so blind? He’s after Una.”

Snow had never seen her mother so animated. “Why is everyone so interested in her, anyway?” Snow asked. “First Mr. Elton. And now you.”

Her mother gasped. She grabbed Snow by the shoulders. “
Una
is why Mr. Elton came to you? He wanted information about Una?”

Snow shrugged her mother’s hands off. She didn’t like how horrified her mother looked. “It’s not like I told him anything. Just stuff anyone would have known. He wanted to know about you, too, you know.”

Her mother let out a little choked cry. “We’ve got to get to her first. Come on, Snow!” Her mother whirled around and sped out of the dorm.

Snow grabbed her cloak and followed her mother. Students milled about, returning from their final class of the day. They stopped to gawk as their Villainy teacher tore through the quad. Snow glimpsed staring faces and open mouths as she sped by. They ran on, through the forest and down the path. She felt on the edge of a great discovery. Was her mother finally about to tell her something important? But why did she need Una? And what was Una doing in her mother’s flat, anyway?

They hurried over the little bridge. They were nearly there. Into the dark and musty Villainy classroom. Up the rickety stairs. The door to the flat was ajar.

Her mother quietly pushed it open. “Hello?” she called. “Una?”

There was no answer. Gingerly, Snow followed her mother into the flat. A tabby cat bounded around the corner, and Snow gasped, her heart pounding. Everything was quiet.

Snow followed the cat into the main sitting room and down the hallway. She didn’t see any sign of Una.

Her mother met her in the living room. “There’s only one place left to look,” she said. She walked over to the wall and pulled hard on a tapestry. It came up easily and there, in a hidden space in the wall, was Una Fairchild.