Free The Unexpected Enlightenment of Rachel Griffin (Books of Unexpected Enlightenment Book 1) by L. Jagi Lamplighter Page A

up or burning or freezing. This last time, with Mr. Starkadder, it was a glacier.”
    “I wonder what that means?” Rachel mused.
    “It gets worse.”
    “How could it be worse?”
    “In the case of Miss Iscariot, I was standing on her grave.”
    “Her grave!” Rachel cried. “When does she die?”
    “Twenty years ago,” the princess replied. “According to the date on her headstone, she is already dead.”
    • • •
    Rachel pondered the Princess’s disturbing news as they made their way to class. She did not question whether Nastasia’s visions were real—many sorcerers had visions—but she did struggle to comprehend what they could mean. Under what circumstance could a young girl have died before she was born? Could Salome be a vampire? But they met in bright sunlight. Or a revenant? Was that why she looked so much more mature? It made no sense…which meant that there was more to know.
    Whatever the truth was, Rachel could not wait to discover it.
    They arrived at Art class to find animals milling around the classroom. Dogs, cats, and ferrets sniffed at the cabinets where the art supplies were stored. A magpie and a red-winged blackbird flew among the rafters. Apparently, Art was a class to which one brought one’s familiar. Lucky was already with Siggy. The two girls ran back to their room. To Rachel’s delight, Nastasia was one of her roommates. She had the bunk above Rachel’s.
    Rachel had not met her roommates the night before. She had arrived after dinner and fallen asleep almost immediately, still being on London time and exhausted from her family outing in New York City. As they gathered their books for class, the two girls who shared the other set of bunks entered the room. With Kitten Fabian was the shy Astrid Hollywell. Astrid’s familiar turned out to be a red-winged blackbird named Faraday.
    Even with her new empathy bond, Rachel could not catch Mistletoe. He had slipped through a hole too small for her. She could sense the cat, but she could not get to him. She called, but he did not come. Mistletoe never came when called; becoming a familiar did not change this.
    • • •
    Back in the classroom, Rachel was the only person without a familiar. She sunk as low as she could in her seat, hoping fervently that no one would notice. The tutor for this class was Mrs. Heelis, an old woman with round glasses, who wore her white hair in a bun. Her high-necked robe was black and red, like those worn by all conjurers. She did not wear a cap. Her ancient cat slept beside her on the floor in a pool of sunlight.
    Seated at the table, she spoke to the students with a lively gleam to her eyes. “Art is the basis of the Sorcerous Art of Conjuring. All conjured objects must be conceptualized in the mind,” she tapped her head, “before they can be drawn into the world of the real. Here, your familiar will be a big help. Your familiar can see into the world of dreams from which conjured items come. It can help bring definition and perspective to your creation.”
    She made a gesture and glanced at her cat, who suddenly sat up alert. The two of them bent their heads toward each other. Straightening, Mrs. Heelis held her palm up and drew her fingers together until her fingertips touched. Then the cat raised his paw and batted, just as Mrs. Heelis moved her hand downward.
    “ Muria ,” she stated firmly.
    As if she were waking from a dream, Rachel realized that a sweet white duck with a light blue bonnet that looked like a living version of Jemima Puddleduck waddled around the room. There were gasps of astonishment, and girls squealed with delight.
    “It is only temporary. It will fade soon,” Mrs. Heelis explained. “But you may all come over and examine it.”
    They all went forward to examine the animated duck. Looking up, Rachel realized that there were framed pictures of Peter Rabbit, Squirrel Nutkin, Jemima Puddleduck, and Benjamin Bunny on the walls. She smiled at the pictures. They seemed so