Max was startled to see Connor was right; instead of the ocean there was a series of sand dunes that rose in gentle swells for miles until they stopped at a wall of dark rock that extended to the horizon. Ms. Richter smiled.
“As Connor has noticed,” she said, “our Sanctuary is a very different place from the world back through that tunnel. Like many things here at Rowan, the Sanctuary has its own space: space that is ‘borrowed’ from other places in the world. This provides our guests with a safe haven and a variety of habitats reminiscent of their homes. The only way in or out of this Sanctuary is through this tunnel. Remember, Old Magic can be raw and unpredictable, and thus it is important not to wander too far.”
Max elbowed Connor.
“Is there anything here that can’t hurt, kill, or eat us?” he whispered.
Connor grinned. “Keeps you on your toes, don’t it?”
“Do you think we could ask not to have one of these?”
“I highly doubt it,” Connor replied quickly as Ms. Richter glided past them.
“Ah,” said the Director, glancing at her watch. “I think Nolan’s ready for us.”
A lanky, tanned man was walking toward them from the building near the lagoon. He had something that seemed to be wriggling in his arms. At fifty yards, he laughed and placed it on the ground. Max grinned with recognition. Lucy’s head bobbed up above the tall grass as she quickly closed the distance, barreling into Max with a snort. Max hoisted her in his arms.
“Hey there, Lucy!” he exclaimed. “Good to see you!”
Lucy squirmed in his arms, scrambling up his chest to sniff at his cheek. Max laughed and turned toward the others.
“Ah,” said Ms. Richter. “I’d almost forgotten that Max has met Lucy before! Class, come and meet Lucy. She’s been Nigel Bristow’s charge since he was an Apprentice, some thirty years ago.”
“This is more like it,” Cynthia breathed as she scratched Lucy behind the ears.
“Hello, Lucy,” cooed Omar, patting her belly.
“There’s a good girl,” chirped Connor, shaking her foot.
Lucy tossed frantically, trying to look at each student as they introduced themselves. It was too much. With a grunt of shock, she released a burst of gas, looking hurt as the children fled with shrieks of laughter. She buried her head in Max’s armpit.
“Now, now, you’ve hurt her feelings!” the man said with a laugh. He had dark hair, a mellow drawl, and bright blue eyes with crow’s-feet at the corners. He wore jeans, a thick leather apron, and gloves that bore a variety of deep gashes and punctures. Max recognized him as the man they had seen the previous day on the beach when they had taken their tour with Miss Awolowo.
“Hey, students,” he said, waving at them. “You ready to make a friend for life?” he inquired with a loud clap of his gloves. Taking Lucy from Max, he whispered something in her ear and placed her on the ground. She trotted back toward the lagoon.
“Children,” said Ms. Richter, “this is Mr. Nolan, Head Groundskeeper at Rowan.”
“Just ‘Nolan’ is fine with me,” he said with a wink. He glanced over at Cynthia, who had looked petrified ever since the predatory bird had appeared. “Will you be my assistant, young lady?”
She nodded slowly.
“Thank you.” He smiled at her, offering his arm and starting toward the building. “Let’s all head over to the Warming Lodge. We’ve got some beautiful creatures that are dying to meet you!”
The Warming Lodge was made of dark, unpainted wood and covered with weathered shingles. Several bales of hay were stacked on a covered porch that faced the lagoon. Gathering the children around the porch, Nolan motioned for quiet. He produced a small silver bell, ringing it three times. The porch’s planks began to creak as something large moved inside.
“Kids, I’d like you to meet YaYa. She looks after all the animals in the Sanctuary. She is the Great Matriarch of Rowan and has been here since it was established.”
The children stepped back as the head of a massive jet-black lioness emerged from the doorway. Bigger than a rhino and crowned with a single broken horn of speckled ivory, she stepped heavily out onto the porch. Her black fur gave off a faint white shimmer. The great creature lowered herself slowly onto the porch, folding her black glossy legs beneath her. Her eyes were clouded with milky cataracts, and her sides rose and fell with her labored breathing. Trotting out the door, Lucy snuggled beneath the whiskers on YaYa’s great chin.
Max thought the piglet looked like an appetizer.
“She’s beautiful, Mr. Nolan,” said a girl in front. “What is she?”
“I’m sure she’d prefer to answer that herself.”
Max stood riveted as the creature raised her head. Her voice sounded like several women speaking simultaneously.
“Thank you for your kindness. I am a ki-rin. Greetings and welcome to Rowan.” Breathing deeply, she lowered her head once more, covering Lucy.
“YaYa is very old,” Mr. Nolan said. “Seven hundred years is a long life, even for one of her kind. Today we ensure that YaYa can spend her days resting and tending to the injured. As the Great Matriarch of Rowan, however, she’s the one you’ll have to answer to if she hears you’re shirking your tasks.”
YaYa spoke, her voices soft as the subsiding drizzle.
“Do not frighten them, Nolan. I’m sure the charges will be in very good hands. Lucy already speaks highly of them.”
The cloudy eyes turned toward Max.
“YaYa,” said Nolan, “with your permission, we’d like to introduce your charges to the class.”
“Of course,” she replied. “With the exception of Tweedy, they’re very excited.”
Nolan led the students behind the building, spacing them well apart in rows. Ms. Richter, YaYa, and Lucy settled onto a large woolly blanket the Director had spread on the grass. The sky was threatening and Max was very nervous.
Several minutes later, Nolan reappeared along with a dozen other adults. A motley assortment of creatures followed in a strange procession behind them. They came in all shapes and sizes, peering anxiously at the students. Some towered above the adults leading them, but most were smaller and huddled around them, murmuring or purring or chattering in their own tongues. A nametag hung from each neck.
“All right,” said Nolan. “There’s really nothing to this. All you have to do is stand in your places and let our lovelies take a look at you. Most are quite young, so don’t be insulted if some are less polite than they should be. Part of your job will be to teach them proper manners. Okay, then—let’s get started.”
Max tried to calm his breathing as the creatures stepped, crawled, and hopped among them. An enormous winged bull with the head and face of a young man stopped to loom over him. It gazed at him impassively as Max read ORION, SYRIAN SHEDU on its nametag. The shedu did not move. It merely stared at Max, a small frown on its face. Max was at a loss.
“Hello, Orion. My name’s Max.”
Nodding stonily, the shedu lifted its head and walked down the line toward Lucia. Max heard a jingle and looked down to see a small striped dog sniffing at his ankles. It sat on its haunches and looked up at him, its nametag indicating that its name was Moby, a Somerset bray.
“Hi, Moby.”
The dog wagged its tail and gave an earnest little yelp that sounded like brass horns. Max clapped his hands to his ears and the dog trotted away. Poked from behind, Max turned to see two Normandy fauns eyeing him suspiciously. They each had the hind legs of a slender goat, but the torsos and faces of a young boy and girl. They appeared to be twins: Kellen and Kyra. They spoke in French.
“Il n’est pas pour moi,” sniffed Kellen.
“Moi non plus, mon frère. Je préfère Connor,” replied Kyra, peering back down the line.
Max felt insulted without knowing why, when a shiny red bullfrog bigger than a toaster landed on his shoe. Clammy, padded fingers gripped Max’s leg as its throat inflated like a balloon. Max sought out its nametag.