FSG expertly maneuvers our boat to a sleek wooden dock. I scan the shoreline. In every direction, there’s nothing but trees, trees, and more trees.
Huh. This place looks more like a forest than a fancy pants school.
About twenty teachers stand in front of the greenery, both male and female. All of them are wearing khaki pants and blue blazers. I get out of the boat, stand on the dock, and anxiously scan their faces.
My heart sinks. No Lincoln.
Along with the teachers, a half-dozen girls stand by the dock as well. They’re done up in short plaid skirts, white tops, and cutoff blue jackets. Somehow, in all of this, I didn’t realize there would be a dress code involved. More rules. Yuck.
Prescott steps off the boat and introduces me to the teachers. I make a few quick hellos and hold onto my tail for dear life. I know how its skeevy little arrowhead-shaped mind works. The second I let go of my tail, it will dive back into the planking and hold me hostage. I am not giving it that chance.
After the faculty greets me, Prescott turns to address the other students. “Now, I’d like to present the student welcoming committee. Girls, this is Missy.”
“He means Mysteria.”
“Hello, Missy.” All six of them speak in unison, their voices sounding in a monotone. It’s more than a little chilling, actually. The six of them are slim, pretty, and look well put together. Something about them is very wrong, though. It’s the look in their eyes. I’ve seen it before many times, right before I go for a killing blow.
Fear.
These students are scared out of their minds. My battle sense goes on alert. I want to start kicking ass, now. Whatever is frightening these folks is going down, and I’m the girl to do it.
Calm down, Myla. Find the codex first.
I force my breathing to slow and my thinking-side to kick in. After a few seconds, I’m able to slap on an innocent smile. “Nice to meet you.”
Prescott beams. “The Wheeler School follows an acclaimed tradition of schooling in a natural setting. That means lots of outdoors time and no electronic falderal. You girls don’t mind not having cell phones or televisions, do you?”
Wait, what? No cell phones? No TV? Don’t tell me I just left the only place in the after-realms that has no technology…Only to go to the only place on Earth without it, either.
While I wait for the students to reply, I work hard to hide my panic. Maybe I’m worrying over nothing. Surely, they’ll all say something like “ha ha, what a joke” right as they pull out their phones and take a selfie.
At last, the girls reply. “We don’t mind at all.” And they even say THAT in unison.
So. Freaky.
“Excellent,” says Prescott. “Let’s go to class, shall we?”
“Like, at this very moment?” I haven’t been to class in months, and honestly, the whole no-school thing was really agreeing with me. “I thought there would be a tour or something.”
“I’ll do that along the way.” Prescott elbows me slightly. “Not that you’ll remember. You girls are terrible with directions.”
My face scrunches up into a look that can only be described as what the hell? Girls aren’t good with directions? Where is he coming up with this stuff? I scan the faces of the students beside me. They look so terrified, they probably couldn’t find their way out of a paper bag. I guess I’ll let it slide.
For now.
Prescott claps his hands three times. “Let’s go, girls! Time for the tour.” He marches off into the line of trees. To be honest, I don’t know what I expected from Nova Scotia. Okay, maybe some salmon, a few rocks, lots of indoor living and television, and that’s about it. But this place is heavy with trees and shrubs and who knows what else. There are meandering pathways through the hefty tree trunks. Every so often, a wooden sign is propped into the ground with destinations listed on hand-carved arrows:
“Jamboree Hall.”
“Angelfire Learning Bunkers.”
“Exercise Grounds.”
“Student Cabins.”
The last one gives me pause. “We live in cabins?”
Prescott gestures through the trees. “Yes, there’s one now.”
I blink to make sure what I’m seeing is right. It is. “I’ve never been near a cabin like that one.” Which is totally true. We don’t do much camping in Purgatory, but the few places around are pretty rustic, to say the least. The cabins here mix the old log vibe with modern style glass and concrete. Some places even have bay windows and porches. Whoa.
“Impressive, right?” asks Prescott.
“Yeah.”
“The quality living arrangements is one of the main reasons parents trust us with their children. As I’ve said, this is a natural learning environment. No phones, no technology. Being outdoors helps the mind to focus. And privacy is critical as well. Every single student gets her own cabin.”