Headmistress Flora feels the need to hand-deliver me to Madame Cleo’s detention the next day after classes, and I soon find myself standing in front of an oversized metal double door. I read the large plaque near the entrance: Warning! If doors are locked, do not magically open. Tank may be refilling or flooding!
“Where are we? The aquarium?” I joke.
“You could call it that,” Flora says, “but I wouldn’t. This is the entrance to Madame Cleo’s home, and she’s gracious enough to invite you in for detention.”
I look down at my plaid jumper and navy vest. “I’m not dressed for a swim.”
“A swimsuit won’t be necessary,” the Wicked Stepmother says cryptically. “You’ll start etiquette classes here later this week as well. You’ll see we keep students busy. It keeps you from getting bored and, shall we say, interested in less savory extracurricular activities.” She gives me a long, hard glance.
She means things like thieving, brawling with gargoyles, and spying on villains.
Flora turns on her heels and walks away. “Enjoy your afternoon, Miss Gillian.”
I pull on the double doors to see if they’re locked due to a water leak. Unfortunately, they open. When I slip inside, I feel the temperature drop significantly, along with the lighting. The spacious but dimly lit room has a two-story ceiling but no windows. Slurp! I hear the doors lock and seal behind me, and I wonder if I’ve been led into some sort of trap.
I look for another exit, and that’s when I see a giant fish tank shimmering in the darkness. Fish of every size and color swim by, dodging between bright coral and sea plants, and hiding among the giant rocks nestled inside. I put my face near the glass and peer into the tank, which seems to go back for miles. Aren’t we inside a castle?
The torches flicker and then the doors open. Several students run—or fly—inside. It’s mass chaos to get in before the final bell. When it tolls, the doors shut behind us, and with another slurp, I hear them seal shut again.
“Hey, sticky fingers.” Jax smiles. “How are you feeling?” He’s changed out of his uniform and is wearing an FTRS T-shirt and gym shorts that show his bandaged legs.
“Okay,” I say. I have no dirt on Flora that could spring me early, and I can’t tell anyone that the gargoyle statues around school came alive and attacked Jax and me. I am just super. “Yesterday was…weird, huh?”
Jax’s face is filled with shadows in the low light. “That’s one way to put it.”
“What do you think those things wanted?” I whisper. “Where’d they come from?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Jax says, twirling his book bag’s strap in his hands. “Look, we almost became gargoyle stew yesterday. You need to think like a thief. Stop worrying about what Flora’s doing, and worry more about yourself.”
Think like a thief. I always have…and now I’m stuck here unable to help my siblings. Is anyone making sure Hamish doesn’t eat glue and Felix doesn’t stay up all night by candlelight to read? Are they getting enough to eat?
A light in the aquarium grinds our conversation to a halt. I turn toward the tank and watch as a blur shoots toward the glass. Once the water stops moving, I see Madame Cleo, who until yesterday I’d only seen in that mirror frying up gargoyles. She is the most beautiful mermaid I’ve ever seen. Her purple hair is decorated with sea flowers and shells that match her shell top. Her skin and long, dark green fishtail shimmer brightly.
“Hello, darlings!” Madame Cleo’s voice echoes through the room. How does she do that? Other mermaids have to hold up cue cards in class to talk. I guess being the ultimate sea siren makes for powerful magic.
“Good afternoon, Madame Cleo,” we say in unison and either bow or curtsy.
Since I have little use for curtsies, mine is rusty. I bang into the girl next to me.
“Watch your step, clumsy.” The girl turns toward me, and I stare into the eyes of someone who is definitely half cat. Or maybe werewolf? Who can tell?
“She didn’t mean it, Gayle.” Jax wastes no time in moving us to a less hostile place on the floor.
Madame Cleo’s voice is like a song. “I’m disappointed you’re in detention, but if you’re here, you might as well learn something that will enhance your lives.” She claps her hands and a sparkly disco ball descends from the ceiling as music begins to play. “Today we will be concentrating on the dance of love. The Fire Step.”
The Fire Step is a complicated dance that is usually done at weddings. When Mother and Father thought they were getting an invite to Ella’s wedding (they didn’t, FYI), they practiced for a month and still couldn’t figure it out. I’ve never attempted it.
“First, let me take attendance for our headmistress.” Madame Cleo swims around the tank, playing with her pearl necklace. She looks right at Jax. “Jackson! Lovely to see you again.”
I snort. “Jackson?”