Shadow Days
Page 4
Bosque shook his head. “Simply administrative obstacles that you’ve no need to concern yourself with. I’m sure you can find ways to distract yourself until the matter is settled.”
“How long?” I asked. Having my summer vacation extended wasn’t a bad thing. On the other hand, school was the only place I was likely to meet people.
“A few weeks,” Bosque said.
I opened my mouth and closed it again. I’d been ready to argue that I should have just stayed in Portland, finishing my senior year there like I’d wanted to. But arguing with my uncle never got me anywhere.
“I guess I’ll hit the trails, get some good hikes in,” I said, slump-ing down in the seat.
“That’s the spirit.” His phone buzzed and I looked away as my uncle fell into quiet conversation with whomever had called.
My gaze wandered to the window, finding snow-covered peaks and mountain slopes painted in greens that ranged from jade to ebony. Portland had been a great place to live because I’d spent so much time outdoors. Adventurous, sure, but it was also soft. The air had been perpetually damp in Oregon, giving the rivers and forests a mellow quality. Colorado felt wild. The air that slipped in when I cracked the window was dry, sharp, and biting. I shivered reflexively.
“Stunning, isn’t it?” Bosque was looking at me.
“Yeah,” I said. My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out to see a text from Ally.
Are you there yet? Why haven’t you updated your status?
I sighed, punching in a response. Landed, not home yet. Uncle’s here.
Really???
Affirmative. Gotta go.
“friends missing you already?” Bosque asked.
“Yep.” I shoved my phone back in my pocket, trying to ignore the knot in my gut. Trying to pretend I didn’t wish I was back in Portland.
“You’ll make new friends,” he said. “I assure you. You’ll be well taken care of.”
“By the school that won’t let me in?” I asked.
Bosque gave me a measured look, not blinking until I said,
“Sorry.”
We spent the rest of the trip in silence. My headache had revived itself and Uncle Bosque was reading The Economist. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, an hour maybe, in which I’d nodded off, when he cleared his throat.
I rubbed the grogginess out of my eyes. When my vision cleared, I didn’t have the sense to catch myself before I swore, starting at the behemoth that stood outside my window.
My uncle laughed. “It is impressive, is it not?”
Impressive wasn’t the word I would have picked. It was enormous.
The car had stopped at the end of a long drive lined with expertly manicured trees. The house, if you could call it that, had four stories.
The first three were lined with immense, mullioned windows while sharp eaves of the fourth cloaked what I guessed were the attic’s rooms.
In a place this big is it still called an attic?
In the crooks and shadows lining the top of the mansion were dozens of stone creatures. Some innocuous: deer, owls, and horses; others, sinister beasts that inhabited only myth. Twisting winged serpents, gargoyles, and chimeras leered at me as I climbed out of the car. The stone exterior was a somber gray and its facade looked out of place against the backdrop of mountains. A house like this belonged amid lonely English moors.
I’m moving into evil Hogwarts, I texted Ally.
She answered a few seconds later. Nice. Too bad you’re a Muggle.
Obviously she’d found that funny, but I was still freaked out by the place. It wasn’t just the way the mansion looked. With each step I took toward the front doors, my skin crawled. It was a warm Sep-tember day, but I couldn’t help shuddering.
Uncle Bosque appeared entirely at ease as he took long strides to the doors. They swung open as if in welcome.
“Good afternoon, sir,” a tall, thin man greeted him. “Everything is in order, per your instructions.”
“Excellent,” Bosque said. My uncle beckoned me toward the open doors. My feet had rooted themselves to the ground, making each step I took cumbersome. I was even more uncomfortable when the thin man bowed as I walked past him into the house.
Waiting in the front entryway were a dozen or so more people, men and women all dressed in crisp black and white uniforms, heads bowed in respect. I wanted to scream and jump around them like a maniac just to see if they’d keep up the deference act or clobber me like any sensible person would. As unnerving as the silent staff was, the entryway itself was even more intimidating. The room was broad and round. A chandelier hung suspended in the air above us, the darkness of the wrought iron offset by the sparkle of crystal. On the wall opposite the front doors two staircases rose to meet the balcony ringing the second floor.
My contemplation was broken by the solid thud of the front doors closing.
“Shay,” my uncle said. “This is Rowan Estate’s staff. They’ve done me the courtesy of gathering to meet you. You’ll rarely see them assembled like this. I prefer they do their work out of sight.”
I slid a critical gaze at my uncle. Did he really talk about people like this?
None of the staff flinched. Their heads remained bowed. Not only was I moving into a small castle, apparently I had also been transported through time back to the nineteenth century.
“Should my nephew require anything, I trust you’ll see to it.”
Bosque spoke to the thin man. “Thomas is the head of the house staff. I’ll leave his number with you, Shay. Don’t hesitate to contact him in my absence.”
I nodded.
Thomas bowed deeply in my direction. “It will be a pleasure to serve you, Master Shay.”
A strangling sound bubbled forth from my throat.
“Perhaps dropping the formalities with my nephew would be best,” Bosque said, smiling. “These young people have different sen-sibilities about the world.”
“Of course, sir,” Thomas said. “Dinner will be served at seven thirty.”
“And our guests?”
“They are expected at seven, sir.”
“Very good.” Bosque put his hand on my shoulder, steering toward the staircase on the right side of the circular foyer. “Let me show you your room. Your things will be sent up shortly, if they haven’t already arrived.”
“Guests?” I asked as we climbed the staircase.
“How long?” I asked. Having my summer vacation extended wasn’t a bad thing. On the other hand, school was the only place I was likely to meet people.
“A few weeks,” Bosque said.
I opened my mouth and closed it again. I’d been ready to argue that I should have just stayed in Portland, finishing my senior year there like I’d wanted to. But arguing with my uncle never got me anywhere.
“I guess I’ll hit the trails, get some good hikes in,” I said, slump-ing down in the seat.
“That’s the spirit.” His phone buzzed and I looked away as my uncle fell into quiet conversation with whomever had called.
My gaze wandered to the window, finding snow-covered peaks and mountain slopes painted in greens that ranged from jade to ebony. Portland had been a great place to live because I’d spent so much time outdoors. Adventurous, sure, but it was also soft. The air had been perpetually damp in Oregon, giving the rivers and forests a mellow quality. Colorado felt wild. The air that slipped in when I cracked the window was dry, sharp, and biting. I shivered reflexively.
“Stunning, isn’t it?” Bosque was looking at me.
“Yeah,” I said. My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out to see a text from Ally.
Are you there yet? Why haven’t you updated your status?
I sighed, punching in a response. Landed, not home yet. Uncle’s here.
Really???
Affirmative. Gotta go.
“friends missing you already?” Bosque asked.
“Yep.” I shoved my phone back in my pocket, trying to ignore the knot in my gut. Trying to pretend I didn’t wish I was back in Portland.
“You’ll make new friends,” he said. “I assure you. You’ll be well taken care of.”
“By the school that won’t let me in?” I asked.
Bosque gave me a measured look, not blinking until I said,
“Sorry.”
We spent the rest of the trip in silence. My headache had revived itself and Uncle Bosque was reading The Economist. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, an hour maybe, in which I’d nodded off, when he cleared his throat.
I rubbed the grogginess out of my eyes. When my vision cleared, I didn’t have the sense to catch myself before I swore, starting at the behemoth that stood outside my window.
My uncle laughed. “It is impressive, is it not?”
Impressive wasn’t the word I would have picked. It was enormous.
The car had stopped at the end of a long drive lined with expertly manicured trees. The house, if you could call it that, had four stories.
The first three were lined with immense, mullioned windows while sharp eaves of the fourth cloaked what I guessed were the attic’s rooms.
In a place this big is it still called an attic?
In the crooks and shadows lining the top of the mansion were dozens of stone creatures. Some innocuous: deer, owls, and horses; others, sinister beasts that inhabited only myth. Twisting winged serpents, gargoyles, and chimeras leered at me as I climbed out of the car. The stone exterior was a somber gray and its facade looked out of place against the backdrop of mountains. A house like this belonged amid lonely English moors.
I’m moving into evil Hogwarts, I texted Ally.
She answered a few seconds later. Nice. Too bad you’re a Muggle.
Obviously she’d found that funny, but I was still freaked out by the place. It wasn’t just the way the mansion looked. With each step I took toward the front doors, my skin crawled. It was a warm Sep-tember day, but I couldn’t help shuddering.
Uncle Bosque appeared entirely at ease as he took long strides to the doors. They swung open as if in welcome.
“Good afternoon, sir,” a tall, thin man greeted him. “Everything is in order, per your instructions.”
“Excellent,” Bosque said. My uncle beckoned me toward the open doors. My feet had rooted themselves to the ground, making each step I took cumbersome. I was even more uncomfortable when the thin man bowed as I walked past him into the house.
Waiting in the front entryway were a dozen or so more people, men and women all dressed in crisp black and white uniforms, heads bowed in respect. I wanted to scream and jump around them like a maniac just to see if they’d keep up the deference act or clobber me like any sensible person would. As unnerving as the silent staff was, the entryway itself was even more intimidating. The room was broad and round. A chandelier hung suspended in the air above us, the darkness of the wrought iron offset by the sparkle of crystal. On the wall opposite the front doors two staircases rose to meet the balcony ringing the second floor.
My contemplation was broken by the solid thud of the front doors closing.
“Shay,” my uncle said. “This is Rowan Estate’s staff. They’ve done me the courtesy of gathering to meet you. You’ll rarely see them assembled like this. I prefer they do their work out of sight.”
I slid a critical gaze at my uncle. Did he really talk about people like this?
None of the staff flinched. Their heads remained bowed. Not only was I moving into a small castle, apparently I had also been transported through time back to the nineteenth century.
“Should my nephew require anything, I trust you’ll see to it.”
Bosque spoke to the thin man. “Thomas is the head of the house staff. I’ll leave his number with you, Shay. Don’t hesitate to contact him in my absence.”
I nodded.
Thomas bowed deeply in my direction. “It will be a pleasure to serve you, Master Shay.”
A strangling sound bubbled forth from my throat.
“Perhaps dropping the formalities with my nephew would be best,” Bosque said, smiling. “These young people have different sen-sibilities about the world.”
“Of course, sir,” Thomas said. “Dinner will be served at seven thirty.”
“And our guests?”
“They are expected at seven, sir.”
“Very good.” Bosque put his hand on my shoulder, steering toward the staircase on the right side of the circular foyer. “Let me show you your room. Your things will be sent up shortly, if they haven’t already arrived.”
“Guests?” I asked as we climbed the staircase.
