The Hound Of Rowan Part 8

"First things first, young man," said Ms. Richter. "'It' has a name, and his his name is Bob. Second, Bob is not dangerous. He is a consummate gentleman and the finest chef we've ever had at Rowan!" name is Bob. Second, Bob is not dangerous. He is a consummate gentleman and the finest chef we've ever had at Rowan!"

Bob adjusted the flame beneath a saucepan and smiled gently at Ms. Richter.

"You flatter me, Director," Bob said, his ba.s.so voice vibrating the gla.s.s panes in the cabinets. He turned his gaze to the children, speaking deliberately.

"h.e.l.lo, students. My name is Bob. I am pleased to make your acquaintance. Welcome to Rowan."

He stood and bowed, lowering a ma.s.sive head covered in lumps and knots. His jaw was sunken with age, and he gummed his lips nervously.

Max found the ensuing silence unbearable.

"Hi, Bob," he said.

Bob nodded his head at Max appreciatively. Ms. Richter seized the moment to continue.

"Bob is an ogre, children. Yes, I know what some of you have read about ogres, but our Bob is a reformed reformed ogre and has been with us for almost sixty years. He sought us out himself, traveling all the way from his native home in Siberia. He's been taking care of us ever since." ogre and has been with us for almost sixty years. He sought us out himself, traveling all the way from his native home in Siberia. He's been taking care of us ever since."

She gave Bob a light kiss on the cheek. He smiled and looked expectantly at the children. Lucia raised a trembling hand, asking her question in halting English.

"What does...what does Bob Bob eat?" eat?"

Bob opened his mouth wide like a hippopotamus, revealing a cavernous s.p.a.ce with no visible teeth. Closing his mouth, he chuckled.

"They are wary, Director. That is good, no?" Bob then turned to the group. "After I swore off...meat...I remove my teeth with pliers. Today, Bob prefers tomato soup and grilled cheese."

As Bob finished, Ms. Richter walked over to a large cupboard and knocked sharply on the door.

"Mum, are you going to join us or are you going to sulk?"

Max heard a bloodcurdling shriek from the cupboard, followed by several angry thumps.

"Go away! I'm not I'm not ever ever coming out. You coming out. You hate hate me! I know you hate me!" me! I know you hate me!"

Mum's voice trailed away into pitiful, quavering sobs. Ms. Richter tapped her foot and smiled apologetically at the students. Kneeling by the cupboard, she spoke in a soothing voice.

"Now, Mum, please don't be difficult. The children want very much to meet you properly, don't you, children?"

The Director ignored their horrified faces.

"Come now, Mum. We're all very hungry, but we won't sit down to eat until you join us. Dinner smells wonderful, and we can get the sniffing ceremony done and out of the way."

Max grimaced as he wondered what Ms. Richter meant by "sniffing ceremony." Bob continued to stir the sauce attentively, ignoring the scene. There was a m.u.f.fled thump followed by Mum's teary voice.

"Well, I wouldn't want anybody to go hungry. You don't hate me, do you, Director?"

"Of course not, Mum," Ms. Richter said rea.s.suringly.

"And the darlings...they find me...colorful?" Her voice struck a hopeful note as she stretched out the word. Ms. Richter sighed impatiently.

"Yes, Mum, they find you colorful. Now please do us the courtesy of leaving your cupboard."

Mum peeked from the cupboard. She looked apprehensively around the kitchen. Her round face was tear-streaked; her stringy black hair lay across it like clumps of seaweed. Wriggling to dislodge her sizable bottom, she spilled onto the tiled floor. She scrambled quickly to her feet, rearranging her hair in a series of frantic motions. She abruptly stopped to gaze upon the students with a startled, sweet expression.

"Oh, h.e.l.lo. Is this the new cla.s.s, Director? They're such dears!"

"Mum, please don't pretend you haven't seen them before."

Mum scowled and shot Ms. Richter an angry glance. The Director shook her head and turned to the cla.s.s.

"Children," said Ms. Richter, "please return to the dining hall and form two lines. Mum, please come out here with us. Bob, can you see to it that dinner is served immediately after the ceremony?"

Bob nodded as they filed back out the swinging doors. Max found himself sandwiched between Cynthia and Rolf near the doors. Connor took a spot across from him as Ms. Richter escorted Mum into the dining hall.

"All right," the Director called out, walking down the lines while Mum remained near the doors. "Take a deep breath and try to be very still. When it's your turn, please hold out your arm so Mum may sniff it."

A tall black girl nearby raised her hand. Max blinked; she looked like she could be Miss Awolowo's granddaughter.

"Ms. Richter, is Mum planning to remove her her teeth with pliers anytime soon?" teeth with pliers anytime soon?"

"No, dear-Sarah, is it? The sniffing ceremony ensures such measures won't be necessary. Mum, please begin."

Mum was pacing back and forth near the doors, clapping her hands excitedly. Suddenly, she lurched forward and seized the arm of the girl next to Connor. The girl shut her eyes and stood ramrod straight. Holding her arm gingerly, Mum stood on her tiptoes and sniffed greedily along its entire length before flinging it aside.

"Done!" she shrieked, shuffling over to Connor.

"h.e.l.lo, Mum," he said. "Dinner smells lovely."

Mum cooed appreciatively and took his hand, looking him up and down.

"Oh, you're a handsome one!" she said. "You remind me of a young lad I ate on the outskirts of Dover. He was such a nice nice boy." boy."

Connor moaned and turned his head as she dragged her nose along his arm like a pig rooting for truffles.

"Done!" she shrieked, moving over. Connor was green.

Max leaned forward and looked helplessly down the line; he'd be one of the last she'd sniff and the antic.i.p.ation was unbearable.

"Ms. Richter!" cried Jesse with mounting desperation. "Do we absolutely have to do this?"

Mum sidestepped closer to him with hideous efficiency. Ms. Richter raised her voice above Mum's periodic shrieks and mumbling commentary.

"Once Mum's sniffed you, she knows not to bother bother you. She's really as gentle as a lamb." you. She's really as gentle as a lamb."

When she was two students away, the escalating dread overcame Max and he shut his eyes. A minute later, he felt a soft, strong grip on his hand. He opened one eye a smidgeon and looked down.

Mum was pinching his arm thoughtfully. She lifted it up with surprising delicacy and dragged her quivering nostrils along its length. Max groaned and shut his eyes again; every instinct screamed for him to get away from those sharp, slavering teeth. When the snuffling stopped, he glanced down to see a wet trail that meandered from his wrist to elbow. Mum leaned close for a conspiratorial whisper.

"You'd be lovely with potatoes, dear. Done!"

Max wiped his arm against his shorts. He heard Cynthia whimper several "Hail Marys" as Mum seized her.

"Ah! You're the plump la.s.s from the doorway! Like a great trussed roast you smell! No, no, not for Mum, not for Mum. Done!"

The sniffing ceremony complete, Mum stood before the doors and faced the students. Rising up on her toes, she spread her arms like an orchestra conductor and bowed with slow majesty.

"It was lovely to meet you all, my darlings. Welcome to Rowan! Your dinner is served."

The children sat at several of the long tables while the tables were piled high with roasted chickens, steaming bowls of vegetables, and rich, savory breads. Ms. Richter and Miss Awolowo sat at the table nearest the kitchen, their faces illuminated by candlelight.

Max could not remember such an exquisite meal. Normally a picky eater, he found himself wolfing down mounds of chicken served with a creamy sauce, crisp string beans, and golden potatoes. He further helped himself to two slices of homemade pie and a fat dollop of ice cream.

A shadow fell over Max and he looked up to see Bob leaning over him to fill a pitcher of lemonade. He gave Max a craggy smile.

"I did not get your name before, young man," the ogre said.

"Oh, my name is Max. Max McDaniels," he replied.

"My pleasure, Max. I hope you will visit us in the kitchens."

Bob extended a gnarled hand the size of a serving tray. Max shook it carefully. It smelled of soap. Bob chuckled to Miss Awolowo, who sat at the next table.

"He's a good one, eh, Miss Awolowo?"

Miss Awolowo nodded thoughtfully, her dark eyes glittering.

"We think so, Bob. Yes, indeed, we do."

Bob plucked several empty platters off the table and ducked nimbly through the swinging doors.

After dinner, the students carried lanterns, following Ms. Richter in a single-file procession across the grounds. Max looked west to where fading bands of scarlet blended into starry blues.

They descended the steps to the beach where the dark s.h.i.+p bobbed on the water. A bonfire was burning brightly with many logs and tree stumps arranged around it like little stools. Ms. Richter motioned for them to take seats as she sat with her back to the sea. Her solemn voice rose above the waves and the crackling flames.

"Tonight is a night when we remember, a night when we share with the new cla.s.s a bit of Rowan's history and their own. It has been centuries since our kind fled the Old Country and arrived on these sh.o.r.es. We landed on this very stretch of beach, borne here by the Kestrel. Kestrel."

Ms. Richter turned to look at the barnacled, hulking vessel behind her. She began to walk among them, her feet crunching softly on the sand. Max followed her gaze as she stopped and looked up at the stars.

"It may surprise you to know that our world is still a very young world and that mankind is a very new thing upon this earth. Indeed, others were here long before us." Ms. Richter bent down and scooped sand into both her hands. "The greatest among them came to help shape this world, to watch its beauty and possibilities unfold...."

The sand within her hands began to bubble and melt. Max gaped as it formed itself into a small, beautiful ornament of gla.s.s. He stared at it hovering above the fire like a brilliant jewel while she resumed her walk and glided behind him.

"They delighted in the waters and the woods and the creatures that came to inhabit them. Eventually, they departed, leaving the care of our planet to others. These caretakers were lesser beings and we call them the Stewards. To mankind, however, they were as G.o.ds and G.o.ddesses-great spirits of the elements that watched over the world while we were still but infants. Alas, their vigilance failed."

Max and his cla.s.smates jumped as the hovering gla.s.s fell and shattered in the fire.

"Their vigilance failed, and others came, too-other things from dying worlds with nothing left to feed them. Quietly, they seeped and crept into the deep places of this world to gnaw at its roots. Their very presence corrupted some of the Stewards...."

Ms. Richter's eyes hardened as a log collapsed into the bonfire, shooting plumes of sparks like fireflies.

"The corrupted Stewards lost interest in mothering the world and sought mastery instead. Humans were given a simple choice: to serve or to perish. Fortunately, a few men and women refused this choice and chose instead to resist.

"The remaining Stewards let some of their power pa.s.s to those who would fight. The first to receive this spark were very great-almost Stewards themselves, as they were granted a measure of wisdom and Old Magic to stem the darkness. And you have inherited this spark, my dears. Each and every one of you sitting here with me!"

Ms. Richter stopped walking and looked from face to face around the fire, finally locking her gaze on Max as she continued.

"We do not know how this spark comes to be within you; we cannot antic.i.p.ate who will be blessed with it. The only thing we do know is that it has faded over time. Our numbers and potency today are mere echoes of the past. But they have not faded entirely! At Rowan, we gather these sparks and nurture them and so continue the Great Struggle. Rowan is the last school for our kind, founded when the others were destroyed."

She blinked as though lost in thoughts of her own. She placed her suit jacket over the shoulders of a s.h.i.+vering girl and sat down once again near the fire.

"Solas was the last and greatest of these schools to fall. We chose to build it in Ireland-a good choice, as the land was riddled with Old Magic and enclosed by water and mist. In Ireland, our kind made peace with the Tuatha de Danaan, the fading Stewards of that realm. They were inconstant allies but capable of powerful aid when they could be roused from their slumbers beneath the hills. It was they who laid the foundation for Solas."

Ms. Richter raised her hands and the fire writhed and grew. Within it Max saw a great castle with many towers and gabled roofs on a mountain of rock high above the sea. He squinted to see it more clearly, but the flickering flames and smoke obscured it.

"By all accounts, Solas was a wonder! The greatest minds and Mystics of the age were tutored within its walls, veiled in secrecy from the Enemy until they were strong enough to take their proper place outside. From Solas came those who would bring the Dark Ages to an end.

"After their triumphs, mankind was left in peace. For centuries, no great evil emerged, and we began to hope that we had finally succeeded! We believed that the corrupted Stewards and their many minions and offspring had abandoned this world for another. We were wrong."

Ms. Richter stood again and backed away from the fire. The image of Solas was lost in flames that swept higher and higher until the beach was filled with strange light and shadows.

"Astaroth came."

Max froze at hearing the name again-Mrs. Millen had said it. She had shrieked shrieked it when she chased after him and his leg had gone numb. it when she chased after him and his leg had gone numb.

"Astaroth was much more patient and clever than those before him. He did not declare himself, but instead remained hidden, manipulating men and countries like chess pieces across the continents. By the 1640s, our world was in great turmoil. The Ming Dynasty collapsed; the countries of Europe fought with one another; England was consumed by civil war. Brilliant minds were imprisoned and tortured for heresy...."

Ms. Richter frowned and gazed at the fountain of flames before her.

"The wisest among us, Elias Bram, perceived that these events were not random follies of man. He sensed that the world's troubles were stirred in secret by a greater mind and malevolence. Astaroth's true name and form were revealed, and our people unraveled many evil works near completion. Enraged, Astaroth bent his cunning mind on finding the source of those who opposed him.

"In the end, we were betrayed. Astaroth learned of us and our school. The great gates were thrown down, and many brave souls were lost. The Enemy paid a heavy price, however. Solas was broken, but Astaroth was broken with it. Bram came and fought with him, and the towers and halls toppled down around them. Bram fell, but not in vain-a great evil was removed from this world."

The roaring pillar of flame began to die and wither to quiet licks of flame among the spent logs.

"The students and teachers who survived fled Astaroth's armies and sought aid from the Tuatha de Danaan. These precious few were spirited here aboard the Kestrel, Kestrel, and Rowan was raised from the countryside. It is Old Magic, children, that hides this place and makes it strange." and Rowan was raised from the countryside. It is Old Magic, children, that hides this place and makes it strange."

Ms. Richter sat down once again and took the hands of the two nearest children, giving them a gentle smile.

"And, now, you are here. We We are here so many years after our allies secured this haven and enabled our kind to continue. I am so pleased to have you among us. You have been called to Rowan not to fight, but to learn-to develop that n.o.ble spark within you. As the Director and a fellow human being, I hope that you will do your best to kindle that spark within you. Much depends upon it." are here so many years after our allies secured this haven and enabled our kind to continue. I am so pleased to have you among us. You have been called to Rowan not to fight, but to learn-to develop that n.o.ble spark within you. As the Director and a fellow human being, I hope that you will do your best to kindle that spark within you. Much depends upon it."

Max could not tell how long they sat in silence, huddled around the flames as they finally died to embers. He struggled to imagine what his role could possibly be in such a vast history. He turned to David, but his roommate was watching the stars, his small face thoughtful and serious. After a time, Ms. Richter broke the silence.

"It is late and there is much to do tomorrow. I will lead you back to the Manse."

The children picked up their lanterns and followed behind, making the long trek across the lawns to their new home.