Chapter Seventeen: In Which I Try a Different Tactic, or, Warning Glass
Glass was exactly where I had suspected she would be: sitting alone at a table in the dining hall, halfway done with her supper.
For a second after spotting her, I almost lost my nerve. I’d never directly approached her before, and I had a feeling that she’d absolutely hate it if I did so now. Especially with all the other students in the room. She had a reputation as an unapproachable loner, and I wasn’t sure what would happen to me if I attempted to ruin that.
Besides, she looked so pristine and ladylike sitting there, her posture perfect, coils of her neat black hair cascading down her back, her uniform wrinkle free and looking as if it had been made for a queen. Whereas, I knew I looked terrible. There was still dried blood caking my leg and my sock, my curls had been so windswept I probably looked like a madman, and my uniform, which always looked frumpy on me, was now dusty and more wrinkled than ever. I probably looked like I’d just been in a fight, and I shied away at the thought of anyone making that connection, though it was untrue.
But she needed to know about those strange grey men. So, squaring my shoulders and attempting to dust off my skirt, I abandoned my post by the door and headed straight for Glass’ table. Food could wait.
Apparently, caution could also wait. Instead of going with my original plan, where I’d stand somewhere near Glass’ elbow and politely ask if I could sit at her table since there was something I needed to tell her, I just casually plunked down on the bench opposite her and waited for her to react.
Her reaction was much milder than I’d expected. She calmly set down her spoon, folded her hands atop the table, and looked straight into my eyes. Surprisingly, she didn’t seem too terribly angry. Yet.
“What, may I ask, brings you here?” Glass asked, far too evenly. “Have you finally decided to come clean?”
No, I hadn’t. In fact, I was going to pretend that I hadn’t heard that last question. “I was in town today, and ran into three men.”
Glass stiffened ever so slightly. “What does that have to do with me?” she asked. There was an extra edge to her voice, and I could tell that, despite her apparent disinterest, she very much wanted to know what I had to say next.
Apparently, a few others in the room also wanted to know what was happening. Since the space between each table was so large, no one could hear what we were saying, but I could feel several curious eyes turned upon us, wondering how anyone could be sitting at the same table as Glass Farthingdale and not be eaten alive.
“They recognized that I’d come from Norlocke, and asked me about you.”
She frowned. “Your details are very sparse. What did you tell them, and what did they look like?”
“I didn’t tell them anything. But they said that they were your friends. They were all quite tall, and dressed in black. One was older, maybe forty or fifty, and there were two younger ones who looked to be in their early twenties. They all disappeared when I wouldn’t tell them anything.” I almost mentioned the grey skin tone, but decided not to at the last second. A small detail, but strange enough that I couldn’t help but be concerned that she wouldn’t take me seriously if I brought it up.
Glass steepled her fingers, tapping her pointer fingers against her lips. She no longer seemed aware of my presence, or of any of her surroundings. She didn’t look particularly worried, or excited, or frightened.
Shaking herself free from her thoughts, she glanced back up, and saw me still across from her. For some reason, she seemed slightly surprised and more than a little annoyed by this. “Is there anything else?” she asked. Any previous tolerance in her voice had vanished.
“Not really,” I said. “I just thought you should know.”
“Well, you’ve told me. Go away.”
I didn’t budge. “Should I be concerned at all? Should the Headmaster be informed?”
Picking up her spoon, she went on eating, as if I wasn’t there.
My fingers gripped the edge of the bench. Why did she have to be so aggravating? Yes, I wasn’t the friendliest person around, and yes, she did have reason to be suspicious of me, but why did she have to rub me the wrong way every time? I mentally shoved down my anger, and tried to proceed as if nothing was wrong.
“Since I warned you, I’d love to say that my conscience is clear and it’s all up to you now. But I can’t. Those men seemed extremely suspicious, and, like it or not, I’m concerned. Unless you have something to say that can allay my concerns, I will be telling the Headmaster. I’m sure he’ll take me seriously, and will at least be extra careful if any men come around looking for you.”
Glass’ head snapped up. Her hidden ire bubbled to the surface, and any pretense at ignoring me or attempting to tolerate my presence vanished in a twinkling. “Mind your own business,” she snapped.
I cocked my head slightly to the side and gave her a vague, cheeky smile. Part of me wondered what in the world I was doing. I needed to tread lightly around this girl, especially since she seemed to at least partially suspect that I was keeping an eye on her. The other part of me had a feeling she’d give me the most information, either by reading her or through direct words, if I purposefully annoyed her. It was time to bring out my especially irritating side.
My reaction clearly did irritate her. She looked as if she were about to boil. Leaning over the table slightly, she stared daggers straight into my eyes. Amazingly, I was completely unruffled, and more amused than anything else. If she got under my skin, it was nice to know that I got under hers as well. The normally icy and collected Glass was hopping mad.
“I don’t know what your problem is,” she hissed under her breath, “but you need to stay away.”
I shrugged. “Then give me a good reason not to tell the Headmaster.”
She flopped back onto her bench, but only continued to glare.
“As I see it,” I added, “your silence is only making it all seem more suspicious.”
For several long seconds, during which time I could sense almost all eyes in the room now turned towards us, Glass said nothing. She seemed to be raging some sort of inward battle. Or perhaps she was just trying to come up with a lie that sounded plausible enough.
Finally, she stood up, rigid as a board. Grabbing her food tray from the table, she muttered, “Do whatever you want. I’m not telling you anything.”
I watched her stalk away. She’d taken a bit of a gamble in not explaining anything to me, but she’d revealed a lot as well. Probably more than she realized. Based off of her reaction to my news, the likelihood of the grey men being kidnappers had dropped to almost nothing, thankfully. As for them being reporters, that too seemed unlikely. She would’ve been much more willing to let me tell the Headmaster about them if she didn’t want the strange men to see her. And although I wasn’t entirely sure whether or not to dismiss the idea that Glass had called the men there to spirit her away from Norlocke, it also seemed rather unlikely.
What I could conclude absolutely though, was that Glass had been conflicted enough to consider telling me something, before ultimately telling me nothing. Which could only mean one thing: she wanted to talk to these men, and yet didn’t want to. She didn’t care whether I told the Headmaster or not, since then she wouldn’t have to choose for herself.
Now, whether she would be able to meet up with the grey men completely hinged upon me.
If that was the case, I wasn’t going to tell the Headmaster. Not yet, anyway.
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