They passed a few tidy cottages on the outskirts. The Atlantic Ocean shimmered ahead as Max took in the clipped lawns, fresh paint, and clean awnings. The town’s buildings were old but beautifully maintained. An old-fashioned movie theater rolled past, followed by a town green and a coffeehouse. Beyond these were a jumble of shops and small restaurants. Passing the row of businesses, they arrived at a small white church whose signboard indicated Rowan Academy was just ahead. Max swallowed and felt his pulse quicken.
They turned off the road onto a smooth lane, passing beneath a towering green canopy formed by the overlapping branches of tall, twisty trees lining the road. They accelerated toward a high gate of black iron flanked by a sturdy stone gatehouse. The gate swung inward as they approached. Max tried to get a better look at a striking silver crest when the limousine crossed the threshold, but the gate swung shut behind them.
The road had become a gravel lane, and the car now followed it to the right, plunging into a thick wood of ash and oak and beech.
Max turned to Nigel.
“Why wouldn’t you let me say good-bye to my dad? Why did you make me hurry?”
“Oh, that—I am sorry. We needed to stay as consistent as possible with the others—those decoys—that preceded you. You did very well.”
“Who were those other kids? Are they in danger?”
Nigel smiled.
“Those weren’t kids, and they are well equipped to deal with any dangers that might arise. You’ve seen your first Agents, Max.”
Nigel wriggled out of his sport coat and held it up against the window. Max saw large dark stains under the arms. Nigel sighed.
“But I’m not an Agent, just a poor old Recruiter caught in the middle and not quite cut out for all this cloak-and-dagger stuff.” He sniffed once at the jacket before folding it neatly on his lap.
“Why were you the one traveling with me, then?” asked Max.
“The Agents insisted I’d be the best decoy out there,” Nigel admitted sheepishly. “They really can be brutal, you know.”
“They were wrong,” Max said. “That man wasn’t fooled. And anyway, I’m glad I got to travel with you and not some boring Agent.”
Nigel brightened as the limousine slowed for an upcoming turn.
“Thank you, Max…. Welcome to Rowan.”
The limousine emerged from the thick wood and into an enormous sunny clearing of smooth lawns, athletic fields, colorful gardens, and old stone buildings set near the sea. Max stuck his head out the window and listened to the seagulls. The car followed the lane along a grassy bluff high above the water’s edge before curving away to conclude at a large circular drive and a sprawling mansion of light gray stone. Many cars were parked in front.
Max opened his door and gaped at a marble fountain of fishtailed horses spraying water high into the air. Through the mist, he squinted up at the mansion. He couldn’t begin to count its windows and chimneys.
“One hundred and eleven,” muttered Nigel, shuffling around the car with Max’s duffel.
“What?” said Max, uncertain if his ears had fully popped from the flight.
“The Manse has one hundred and eleven chimneys. You were trying to count them.”
“How did you know?” asked Max, troubled that his thoughts were so transparent.
“Because I tried to do the very same thing when I arrived here—oh dear Lord—some thirty years ago.”
The Recruiter chuckled and stooped to pluck a white flower from among several clustered on the flagstones at Max’s feet.
“Rowan blossom,” he said, gesturing at the dozen slender trees ringing the drive. Nigel closed Max’s door and led Max up a number of stone steps, pausing a moment before the mansion’s great double doors.
“Ah—one thing, Max. I recognize the temptations, but I would greatly appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention any of our excitement to anyone. That man, Mrs. Millen—any of it, frankly. The less gossip, the better our chances at fixing all this. Will you promise to discuss this only with the Director, and then only if asked?”
Max nodded solemnly and shook Nigel’s hand.
“Good,” said Nigel, visibly relieved. “Let’s join the others. Orientation’s already started.”
Max followed Nigel through the double doors and into a tall foyer flanked by sweeping staircases on each side. They passed through a door beneath the landing and down a long hallway, past several rooms, before stopping at a closed door of polished walnut. Max heard Miss Awolowo’s rich, warm voice speaking on the other side.
“Ack! Just as I feared,” said Nigel. “This door always creaks. Sorry about this….”
The door gave a long, slow squeal as Nigel pushed it open. Hundreds of people turned and looked at the two of them as they stood in the doorway of a little theater. Miss Awolowo paused mid-sentence from where she stood at a podium.
“Ah! There you are! I was beginning to wonder. Ladies and gentlemen, please say hello to Max McDaniels, who joins us from the city of Chicago, right here in the United States.”
Max scanned the sea of faces in mute embarrassment. He gave a little wave as Nigel led him to a seat in the back row. Miss Awolowo continued on; Max heard something about internships.
“Going to clean up a bit and make some calls,” Nigel whispered, patting Max on the shoulder. “I’ll check in with you later—before configuration.”
Max nodded until he realized that something was missing.
“Nigel,” he whispered urgently, “what’s configuration?”
There was no answer. He turned, but the Recruiter had already slipped out. A skinny girl with braces and her mother motioned for Max to be quiet. Max scowled back at them and turned to hear Miss Awolowo.
It was mostly talk of contact information and faculty advisors and school holidays and schedules. Max tuned most of it out and studied his new classmates instead. They did not look like the students at his old school; there was much more diversity sprinkled throughout these seats. While many wore foreign clothes, Max was more interested in subtler differences, such as their posture and facial expressions. He thought many looked older and very serious. He was trying to guess their ages when the whole audience stood and began to file up the aisles.
The scene outside in the driveway was awkward, and Max did his best to keep to the edges while those who had arrived with their parents said good-bye. Tears were shed and luggage was stacked in a cacophony of sound as Miss Awolowo answered last-minute questions and ushered parents to their cars. He watched the skinny girl with braces cling to her mother, weeping uncontrollably until Miss Awolowo gently pried her away and led her mother to a taxi. Max felt guilty for making a face at them.
When the parents had all gone, Miss Awolowo led them into the great foyer. She climbed one of the staircases to address them from the landing.
“All right, children. We now must get you situated in your rooms. Before room assignments, however, I would like to make an important announcement concerning Rowan, a place very dear to me and your new home.”
The air became very still; the chattering stopped immediately. Something in the older woman’s voice had changed.
“Thank you. Until you are given a full tour of the grounds and premises, I ask that you stick only to those rooms and areas that I designate. As you will see, the Manse and the rest of Rowan’s campus are…strange. This campus and its buildings possess a certain unpredictability that can baffle our most senior faculty. There are also a variety of contraptions throughout this house and grounds whose proper workings require careful instruction. As it is only our first day, I have no desire to rescue or mourn any foolhardy students. Is this understood?”
Miss Awolowo’s frank and penetrating look swept from face to face just as Nigel appeared on the landing behind her.
“Wonderful.” She beamed. “Now, before the configuration begins, let me say the following. If history has taught us anything, it is that some students are inevitably disappointed with their rooms or roommates or both. If such is the case, I am sorry but urge you to make the best of it. Room configurations and roommate assignments cannot be changed. So, no crying, no whining. Agreed?”
The children nodded slowly and shot puzzled glances at one another.
“Excellent. This is Nigel Bristow. I believe some of you have already made his acquaintance. He’ll be showing the boys their rooms. The young ladies will come with me.”