All That Lives Must Die - Eric Nylund [144]
A slight smile rippled over Miss Westin’s pale lips as she watched Fiona’s internal struggle. And then, seeing her student hold her temper, the Headmistress nodded.
“Team Scarab,” Miss Westin continued, “for their valiant efforts, however, will be given a ‘non-grade’ for the match. Their midterm grade will be based wholly on their individual accomplishments in the Midterm Maze . . . which I note are miraculously identical scores of A-minus.”
Fiona took that in, stunned, but quickly recovered.
Okay, so they wouldn’t get the win, but it wouldn’t count against them, either, in gym. She could live with that. Still, that left Scarab in a precarious position of having one win, one loss, and a draw.
It was, however, nice that they’d gotten an A on their midterm. Eliot had really pulled off a miracle in the maze, and yet, it irked her that it was an A–. What was the minus for?
She knew better, though, than to let out even a squeak of a complaint in front of Miss Westin.
Fiona shot a quick warning glance to the rest of her teammates—especially bigmouthed Jeremy Covington.
Miss Westin turned to face the other students. “Team Dragon.”
The Dragons stood at full attention.
“You were slated to compete against Team Scarab,” Miss Westin said. “I accept that you were led astray by unscrupulous influences, so we shall record the loss of this match on your gym record.”
The Green Dragon students stiffened as if struck.
The huge boy who was the Green Dragon Team Captain ran a hand over his crew cut and answered, “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”
Miss Westin then strode to Team Wolf, slowly pacing before them.
They looked as if they were about to be executed, shuffling feet, the color draining from their faces; one girl looked as if she were hyperventilating.
“Team Wolf,” Miss Westin said. “We shall also mark you down as a loss for this match.” She halted before Donald van Wyck.
He looked up, but reluctantly, as if he had no choice in the matter, and whispered, “May I speak, Headmistress?”
“No. I have spoken to your family,” Miss Westin told him. “They lobbied quite vigorously on your behalf, but you sealed your fate when you diverted Mr. Ma’s attention and arranged this demonstration of your ‘superiority.’ Pride, arrogance, and underestimating a worthy opponent—these are among your many failings.”
Van Wyck remained standing, but his shoulders slumped.
If Fiona hadn’t hated him so much, she would have felt some pity.
“These personality traits we might have addressed and corrected here at Paxington, given enough time,” Miss Westin continued. “But broken rules? That I will not abide.”
She turned her back to him.
“You are hereby expelled.”
Donald van Wyck looked up, eyes wide. He tried to speak, but nothing came out. He glanced helpless to his teammates, but none of them would look his way.
Harlan Dells moved to his side and set one massive hand on his shoulder.
Van Wyck looked at Fiona, eyes pleading.
Maybe she should say something.
No—he’d tried to kill her, Eliot, and everyone on her team. Fiona’s glare sharpened. He was getting off easy.
Miss Westin nodded to Mr. Dells, and the Gatekeeper marched him off the field.
Fiona watched until they vanished into the tunnel.
Miss Westin withdrew her tiny black book and made a note within.
“There,” she said. “I believe that ends this matter. Students, you are dismissed.”
The Dragons and Wolves skulked off the field.
As they left, Jeremy whooped and danced a celebratory jig. He hugged his cousin Sarah.
Robert and Mitch exchanged a more reserved high five.
Fiona should have felt like celebrating, too. Instead, she was wary, as if something else bad were about to happen.
Eliot stepped next to her and whispered, “I wonder if we’ll see him again.” He gazed at the dark tunnel through which Donald van Wyck had left.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I hope not.”
Had they won today? Or made an enemy for life? Or with his Van Wyck necromancy . . . had they made an enemy for eternity?
Fiona’s attention turned as she saw timid