Novel - Arcanum 101 (with Rosemary Edghill) by Mercedes Lackey Read Free Book Online Page B

actually encountered Elves before. She just didn’t think that—even Underhill—there were very many Elves like Inigo Moonlight.
    She reached the end of the hall and tapped quietly on the door.
    “Enter.”
    She pushed open the door and walked in.
    If Ms. Clifford’s office was designed to be welcoming, Mr. Moonlight’s, well, wasn’t. It wasn’t designed to be intimidating, either. It just was.
    Although she knew it had to have been new when the school was started three years ago, it actually looked older than the building itself, like something out of the Victorian period (or maybe the Middle Ages.) There wasn’t a single modern piece of office equipment in sight, not even a phone—the Headmaster left things like making telephone calls to his assistants. The walls were paneled in dark oak and lined with glass-fronted “barrister” bookcases; the large window had a stained glass panel at the top—and if that weren’t enough, gold-fringed green velvet curtains—and there was an enormous Oriental rug on the floor. The walls held, not only a number of lovely oil paintings in elaborate old-fashioned gilt frames, but other objects in deep shadow-boxes as well. A collection of sea-shells. Some carefully-framed—and very old—postcards. A number of coins or medallions. Nearly every horizontal surface contained some object as well: vases, bowls filled with Mr. Moonlight’s beloved roses, pieces of sculpture even older than he was.
    The center of the room was dominated by an enormous mahogany desk. The top was a single solid slab of malachite. VeeVee had seen one like it in photographs of the Russian Imperial Palace. Its top contained a bronze inkstand—Mr. Moonlight handwrote everything—some art-glass paperweights, a large wooden stationery box, several seals, and a very large leather blotter. Piled neatly in the center of the blotter were two stacks of paper. One was school paperwork and the other was gardening catalogues.
    In front of the desk were two comfortable leather chairs. Behind the desk was a third high-backed leather chair, and in the chair sat Mr. Moonlight.
    Even though he wore the glamourie that made him look human, VeeVee suspected he’d look pretty much the same way with or without it—very tall, very pale, and very old. His hair was absolutely white, swept straight back and worn collar-length, and the way he dressed reminded her just a little of Doc Holiday in the old Western movies her Mom liked to watch—a little old-fashioned, and very formal.
    “Sit down, Miss Langenfeld. How does the world find you today?”
    “Very well, thank you, sir.” Formality was a plus in dealing with any of the Sidhe, and that went double for dealing with St. Rhia’s Headmaster. She sat down and folded her hands demurely in her lap.
    “I presume our Miss Clifford has spoken to you about our newest student already—and that you feel yourself capable of accepting the challenge he presents?”
    “I think so,” VeeVee said. “And I know that if I’m not, I won’t be foolish enough not to say so as quickly as possible.”
    Mr. Moonlight smiled. “An excellent answer. We can never, after all, be entirely certain of what the future will bring until it arrives. Even the Gift of Foreseeing is not entirely reliable in that regard. You’ve shown excellent judgment in the past, however, and I believe that, with your assistance, we may be able to preserve his Talent and harness it to the service of good works. I am also certain that this will be no simple task. The Children of Earth—especially the very young—are often remarkably set in their ways. You must impress him in whatever fashion you feel is best, Miss Langenfeld. I believe we will need to throw him off-balance at once so that he gives the other students—and especially the teachers—the respect they deserve.”
    VeeVee blinked in surprise. Students were generally strongly discouraged from flaunting their Gifts and Talents outside the labs and