The Magic Mirror of the Mermaid Queen - Delia Sherman [6]
This was worse than meeting vampires on Broadway. At least with vampires, I knew what the rules were.
Something big and heavy hit my desk with a crack. I jumped. The other mortals snickered.
“Do pay attention, Neef,” Tester said. “This is school, not a fairy revel. And stop playing with your hair.”
I jerked my hand away from the curl I didn’t even know I was tugging. It was a habit I thought I’d broken last summer. Apparently, I was wrong.
She raised her voice. “Listen, children. You all know that Folk have lots of rules. You also know that they don’t usually tell you what they are until you’ve broken one. Here at Miss Van Loon’s, we tell you all our rules right at the beginning, along with the consequences of breaking one. That way, you can concentrate on lessons without worrying about doing something you didn’t know was wrong.”
I looked at the book in front of me. It was square and thick, with stiff red covers.
“You have until the next full moon to learn them,” Tester went on. “We call this the Honeymoon. Just remember, it’s a grace period, not permission to do whatever you want. You may open your books now.”
The first page was a drawing, in profile, of a very pretty woman with a lacy collar and her hair in ringlets. It was labeled “Miss Wilhelmina Loes Van Loon.”
The second page looked like this:
RULE 0:
RULE 1: STUDENTS MUST NEVER FIGHT OR QUARREL AMONG THEMSELVES.
RULE 2: FOLK ARE NOT ALLOWED TO SET FOOT INSIDE MISS VAN LOON’S, NOT EVEN FAIRY GODPARENTS.
RULE 3: STUDENTS MUST NEVER SPEAK OF WHAT HAPPENS INSIDE THE WALLS OF MISS VAN LOON’S TO ANY SUPERNATURAL BEING WHATSOEVER, INCLUDING THEIR FAIRY GODPARENTS.
RULE4: STUDENTS MUST NEVER VISIT ONE ANOTHER’S NEIGHBORHOODS WITHOUT PERMISSION OF ALL RELEVANTGENIUSES, THE SCHOOLJUFFROUW, AND A NATIVE GUIDE.
This was worse than the lists of treasure guardians and fictional bogeymen Astris had made me memorize. I flipped through the pages with growing horror.
RULE 50: STUDENTS MUST BE EXACTLY ON TIME TO ALL LESSONS.
RULE 76: STUDENTS MUST NEVER RUN UPSTAIRS TWO STEPS AT A TIME. ONE STEP IS USUAL. THREE IS ACCEPTABLE. IF THEY ARE SEEN TAKING FOUR, THEY MUST REPORT TO THE TALISMAN ROOM TO HAVE THEIR SHOES CHECKED FOR UNAUTHORIZED SPELLS.
RULE 103: STUDENTS MUST NOT USE ANY MAGIC TALISMAN WITHOUT SUPERVISION.
RULE242: STUDENTS MUST NOT PLAY WITH THEIR HAIR.
I was sunk.
There were two hundred pages in all, with five rules on a page: one thousand rules to learn and follow. At the bottom of each page, in big, black letters was printed:
ANY STUDENT CAUGHT BREAKING ANY OF THESE RULES MAY BE:
1. BANISHED
2. DEPRIVED OF GOLD STAR POINTS
3. OTHERWISE PUNISHED AT THE TUTOR’S DISCRETION
A boy at the front of the room waved his hand, black as night against the pale green walls.
“Yes, Fortran,” Tester said. “You have a question?”
“What’s Rule Zero?”
“Zero is not a number,” Tester said. “Any other questions?”
We all shook our heads gloomily.
“Good,” said Tester. “Now I’m going to tell you something about our founder, Miss Van Loon.”
If I’d listened carefully, I would have learned exactly when Miss Van Loon had come to New York Between and why she’d founded a school for mortal changelings and a lot of other things it might have been interesting to know. As it was, I didn’t hear a thing. I was too busy hating everything around me.
It wasn’t the Book of Rules. I was used to rules. There are rules for everything in New York Between: words to say, rituals to follow, things not to do or else. Astris and Pooka had been teaching them to me ever since I could remember. Why you should never look behind you. (Something might be gaining on you.) When to say “thank you.” (When you want to get rid of a brownie.) What to take on a quest. (A magic bag. Jellybeans. Your five wits.)
They’d never taught me how to deal with mortals.
“Neef,” said Tester. “Have you heard a word I said?”
I stiffened. “Um.”
“I didn’t think so,” said Tester. “You’re the Central Park changeling, aren’t you?” She consulted a piece of paper. “Geas, quest, godparents a magic