Lucky Rabbit

The next stop was the kitchen, where they found that the cleanup from lunch was complete, but it wasn’t quite time to begin dinner. Most of the staff were taking a break or eating their own lunch, but the chef, Mr. Farrier – a slightly-more-than-middle-aged man who was as kind and cheerful as his wife – greeted the children happily as they entered.

“Come in!” he said, gesturing toward the large double sink that was usually full of dishes when the children came in for chores. Now it stood clean and empty, and Suzanne headed straight for it, washing her hands before crossing to the table that occupied the center of the room. It, too, stood empty now, other than a few large woven baskets of what smelled like rising bread dough.

“You’re just in time, my girl,” Mr. Farrier said, opening an oven to release a cloud of steam that won out even over the yeasty goodness of bread. The air was filled with the scents of cinnamon and apples, and Pandy wasn’t the only one who raised her nose and took a long sniff of it.

Settling a tray onto the wooden tabletop, the chef eyed an array of baked treats. There were several different shapes, but each was formed of crispy, flaky layers with caramelized apple-goo oozing from the center. “I’m trying to decide what to make for Guising Eve this year, and I need taste-testers.” He raised his brows as he looked at Suzanne. “Did you tell them how this works?”

She shook her head, smiling as she opened a drawer, revealing several white aprons, all of which were too small for any but the most petite of adults. Handing one to each child, she said, “You get to try the treats, but you have to help prepare the next batch.”

The smell of the beautiful goodies convinced the children easily enough, and they dug into the treats with great enthusiasm. Even Pandy, Miss Cupcakes, and Lord Winston got samples, a fact of which they heartily approved. Pandy couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw Isidor slipping some small chunks of apple into his pocket as well.

Eating was followed by cleaning, and then baking, and it was remarkable how focused even the most energetic of children could be if given the proper incentive. Soon, Thaniel was carefully slicing some kind of squash, while Geraldine rolled out dough, and Eleanor meticulously cut out circles, squares, and ovals, all of which Isidor assembled into a surprisingly lovely flower-shape before setting them aside to rise.

As the other children did this, the chef called Abbington over to check on the oven, and Pandy followed, sensing that something interesting was about to happen. And, indeed, as the chef showed Abbington how to read the temperature gauge, he murmured, “Mrs. Farrier and I wondered if you might like to spend Guising Eve with our family, lad.”

Abbington looked surprised, but not as much as Pandy would have expected. This was explained when he said, “M’mum’s MsFarrier’s mum’s secon’cousin, sir. ‘S noneedt’-”

Mr. Farrier shook his head. “Your mother and my mother-in-law wrote to ask us to look out for you, it’s true. And I don’t take that lightly,” he said, offering a conspiratorial little grin, “but we would’ve asked you anyway. It’s rare anyone from the Valley comes to Knightmere, and rarer still that we get to talk to them. My wife gets lonely for the sound of Valley voices.”

For a moment, Abbington’s face grew solemn, and he nodded, as if he understood exactly how Mrs. Farrier felt. But then he glanced at his friends, who were not-so-quietly arguing about how many petals a pastry flower needed, and whether the chef would notice if a few were missing.

“Icannaleave’em,” he said. “‘Lessth’couldcome?”

Mr. Farrier sighed and shook his head. “I wish they could. I actually did ask, but their parents would have to give permission. We have your ma’s letter to show she’d be fine with you coming over, but nothing of the kind for the others.”

Abbington hesitated, but eventually shook his head firmly. “No, thanky. Mebbe wec’n all gonex’year?”

The chef patted Abbington on the shoulder. “An excellent idea, Bing. We’ll try again then.” With a final understanding smile, he returned to the squabbling children, solving the problem by giving them each a little piece of the dough left over after cutting out the pieces. After that, they all agreed cooked was best, and allowed him to place the slightly lopsided flowers into the oven.

“These need to bake for about half an hour,” Mr. Farrier said as he closed the door on the cavernous oven. “We should clean up, and by then-”

Someone cleared their throat, and everyone stopped, looking toward the sound. A young woman stood in the doorway, looking distinctly awkward as she said, “Miss Geraldine has guests. They’re waiting in the chancellor’s office.”

All eyes went to Geraldine, who looked completely gobsmacked. “Guests?” she squeaked. “For me?”

The woman nodded, then had to jump to the side as Geraldine lifted her skirts, sprinting out of the room and down the hall. Thaniel moved as if to follow her, but Eleanor laid a hand on his arm, holding him in place. He reluctantly remained where he was, but blurted out, “D’you know who it is? Was there anyone for me?”

The servant shook her head, but caught Mr. Farrier’s eye. He nodded, and she said, “A man, a woman, and a young lady of about thirteen,” at which point Thaniel’s face tried to light up and fall at the same time.

“Her family came,” he said. Hearing the misery in his voice, Pandy hopped over, and he scooped her up, burying his face in her fur briefly before lifting it again and saying, “Geri’s gotta be so happy. I bet they’ll take her around the festival and everything.”

Just then, the squeak of shoes on polished wood came from the hall, and Geraldine poked her head in, staring at them all. “What’re you waiting for?” she gasped, shoving curls back from her red face. “Come on!” Thaniel whooped, and the children streamed out of the kitchen, leaving a bemused chef and servant behind.

The only time students were supposed to climb the stairs up to the chancellor’s office was when they were summoned, which was generally a Bad Thing, resulting in a slow march toward impending doom. Now, six pairs of feet proceeded upwards with surprising enthusiasm. Thaniel and Geraldine were in the lead, but when they reached the door, everyone else fell back, allowing Geraldine to rap timidly at the door. Before her knuckles could impact the wood for a second time, however, the door swung open, and her mother engulfed her in a freesia-scented embrace.

“My darling, how are you?” Lady Reedsley said, stepping back so she could stare down into her daughter’s watery eyes. Geraldine wasn’t the only one close to tears at this reunion, however, and Lady Alice sniffled before dabbing at her eyes with a lacy handkerchief.

Geraldine’s voice barely wobbled at all as she bobbed a curtsey to her parents, then Augustus, who was standing behind the desk, face wreathed in smiles. “I’m doing well, Mother, Father. I-”

Captain Reedsley strode forward, plucking his daughter from the ground like she was no larger than Pandy. She squeaked, then giggled as he kissed her on the cheek before putting her down again. “No need for that, Geraldine. Be honest.” He smiled, large hands still resting on his daughter’s shoulders, and she rubbed her cheek, where his five o’clock shadow had reddened her skin.

“I really am fine,” she assured them both. Motioning for her friends to come forward, she pointed to each, naming them for her parents. “And of course you remember Thaniel,” she finished hurriedly, having stumbled slightly when ‘introducing’ them to Ellie.

“We do,” Lady Reedsley said, holding out her hands for Thaniel. He stepped forward, and she gently embraced him, as well, folding him into a fluffy, puffy, sweet-smelling hug that gave him every opportunity to wriggle free if he wished to do so. Pandy was in his arms, so she, too, was treated to this deeply motherly embrace, and found herself as disappointed as Thaniel seemed to be when it was over.

“And how are you, lad?” Captain Reedsley asked, coming forward to shake Thaniel’s hand.

“I’m good, too, um, sir,” Thaniel said. “We’ve been learning lots, and Suzanne was just showin’ us some costumes, and we were tasting some of the treats for Guising Eve. Are you gonna take Geri out for Guising Eve?”

The children stared at him, but all of the adults chuckled. “Actually, we were just talking about that, Thaniel,” Augustus said, waving for the children to come forward. He didn’t seem at all disconcerted to find that five extra students had come along with the one he sent for, and during the shuffle, he even managed to find a moment to send Pandy a smile that made her ears go hot.

“We’re going to be staying in an apartment here,” Lady Reedsley said. “I guess one of your teachers recently found other employment, and her rooms are available.”

Augustus nodded. “It’s small, and certainly not meant for three people, but I hope you can make it work for a week. I have people getting it ready for you now.”

Lord Reedsley nodded, and Pandy had a feeling this wasn’t a surprise to him. He smiled at Geraldine. “I usually stay at the officer’s quarters when I come to Knightsmere, but that’s no place for a lady, much less Clara. And this way, you can stay in your room here, but we’ll still be able to spend as much time together as possible.”

Geraldine’s face lit up. “So you’ll be here for the whole festival?”

At last, Clara spoke up. She had been hanging back, watching events unfold with a gentle but slightly detached smile on her face. “Of course,” she said. “I’m sure it’ll be lovely. My friends back home were just going to have a very little ball, and this will be ever so much more interesting.”

Somehow, she didn’t sound entirely convinced, and Pandy couldn’t help but notice that she also hadn’t hugged or even greeted her sister yet. Still, if she’d been looking forward to attending a dance at home, it must have been a bit of a disappointment to suddenly be told she wouldn’t get to participate. Not to mention the fact that she had to have been in a carriage since early that morning.

“And of course we’ll have to go out for Guising Eve,” Lady Reedsley said, before giggling like a girl, her cheeks turning pink as she glanced at her husband. “Why, I haven’t been Guising since Clara was small.”

“Can my-”

“Can we-”

Thaniel and Geraldine stopped, grinning at each other, but they didn’t really need to finish their questions. “I believe something can be arranged,” Augustus said. “Thaniel and Ellie also have older brothers at Kestrel, and if they, too, agree to go Guising with you all, that should be more than enough people to keep the five of you in line. They might even be able to bring a few friends of their own.”

Pandy stopped breathing. She was going to spend the evening with Lian, Kaden, and, just maybe, Edgar, too! They’d probably bring Dorian along, as well. Sadly, Bastian wouldn’t be there, since he didn’t join the others’ Small Group until their second year at Condor. Except, she realized, she wouldn’t get to spend the night with them, because she had somewhere else she had to be, and if she could cry, she would have.

“All of us?” Thaniel asked.

Augustus hesitated, looking at Suzanne. “We’d have to get permission from Suzanne’s family,” he said, only to have the girl in question shake her head.

“I’ll be at home that night,” Suzanne said, but Pandy could tell she was struggling to keep her voice even. “My family doesn’t celebrate Guising Eve.”

“Not at all?” Thaniel asked, but before Suzanne could reply, Lord Reedsley laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Some people don’t, lad,” he said, but his expression was thoughtful as he looked at Suzanne. “You’re welcome to join us if your family says it’s all right, Miss, ah…?” He trailed off, raising his brows expectantly, but while Suzanne opened her mouth, it was Augustus who answered.

“No family names at school, please,” he said, smiling from Suzanne to Lord Reedsley. There was a thread of steel in his polite words, though, and they both nodded. Turning his attention to Abbington, he said, “Since it could be difficult to reach your family quickly, Abbington, your parents gave me permission to make decisions on their behalf. What do you think they’d like you to do?”

Abbington looked around at his friends, then down at his shiny shoes. “Ahthink,” he said, then bit his lip and looked up, enunciating carefully. “I’ve got rel-uh-tives,” he said slowly, hitting each syllable of the word a little harder than absolutely necessary, “here, an’ they ‘vited me, too. I didn’t wan’oo go if you were all goin’ t’be here, but-”

Thaniel’s face fell, but Eleanor stepped forward, smiling. “Of course you must go with them if you want to,” she said. “It would have been fine even if we were at school.” Abbington smiled back at her as everyone else, including Thaniel, backed the princess up.

Augustus, too, smiled, and said, “Then it will be Geraldine, her family, Thaniel, Ellie, Isidor, and perhaps a few students from Kestrel as well. That sounds like a good-sized group to go Guising with.”

Lord Reedsley nodded, though Lady Reedsley was beginning to look a bit overwhelmed. “It does indeed,” the captain said. “And you’re all welcome to join us to view Grange displays as well, if Mr. Blackwood and your parents agree.”

Enthusiastic shouts greeted this suggestion, with Abbington as excited as everyone else. Only Suzanne didn’t say anything, as the older girl began edging back toward the door. Pandy wasn’t alone in noticing this, however, as Lord Reedsley looked toward the young Dark mage and said, “You’re welcome, too. Suzanne, is it? Any friend of our daughter’s is a friend of ours.” He even sounded like he meant it.

Suzanne stopped in her tracks, biting her lip. “I’ll, um, ask my parents,” she said, barely above a whisper. “They don’t… We don’t do much, this week.”

This information didn’t seem to surprise Lord Reedsley, who just nodded again, his expression carefully neutral. Lady Reedsley seemed to sense something was off, her forehead creasing as she smiled toward the retreating girl. “The invitation is open, and you know where to find us.”

Suzanne didn’t quite seem to know what to say to this, especially since Lady Reedsley was so clearly genuine in her offer, but fortunately Augustus spoke, breaking the moment. “The most important thing right now is to get Geraldine’s family into their temporary home. Lord Corbin, Lady Alice, Miss Clara, if you would follow me?” He tilted his head toward the door to his left, where a staff member stood, his entire being emanating, ‘I absolutely wasn’t listening to a word you were saying, because I Am A Professional’.

Geraldine hesitated only briefly before abandoning her friends to go with her family instead. The remaining five children left out the other door, with Ellie and Thaniel chattering excitedly about the upcoming week, while Abbington nodded along, Isidor looked like he didn’t know how to feel about the whole thing, and Suzanne brought up the rear, her earlier confidence and happiness having entirely evaporated.