Chapter Eight: The Silver Sandal Caper!
Guardians of the Twilight Lands -- The Sixth Book of Unexpected Enlightenment
“Zoë,” Rachel sat up in bed, “what happens to us after we die? Do we flit like bats?”
“Bats? Flit? What?” The other girl snorted. “Of course not. Where’d you get that from?”
Rachel lay back again. “In the Odyssey, when Odysseus seeks advice from a dead sailor, everyone in the land of the dead is a shade that only gains substance and recalls itself fully after feeding on blood. Otherwise, they are like forgotten memories, empty husks of what they once were. Are you sure that’s not our fate?”
“’Course not, mate!” Zoë insisted. “What a waste that’d be. After we die, we come back again. As someone else. Get born as a baby. Or maybe a turtle or a bug if we’ve been real jerks in this life. Nothing to it.”
“So we stop being us?”
“Only to a degree. We lose the specifics of who we are now, but we keep our core.”
“But …” Rachel made a face. “How does that even work?
Zoë shrugged. “It’s like what happened to me when I came here. I’ve forgotten the specifics of the person I used to be, the things I used to do—good and bad—the relationships I used to have. Many people we know have gone through this: Seth, Misty, Prince Von Dreamboat, Cutie-pie Gaius, Valerie. Salome was dead before she came! Many of us don’t even have the same parents here we did before—I definitely don’t.
“We don’t seem to have suffered too much for the experience,” she concluded. “Being reincarnated’s like that.”
Rachel shivered. The thought of forgetting one’s life horrified her. Before she could reply, however, the door to the infirmary swung open, and in clanked Seth Peregrine in his hockey gear. He had been rather short for his age back in September, but in the last month or so he had shot up and now resembled a beanpole. He had warm brown eyes and wavy strawberry-blond hair. He was friendly with Zoë and Siggy, but he was the only member of Rachel’s core group—the students with whom she shared all her classes—with whom Rachel seldom spoke.
As he clanked over towards them, Zoë lit up. Oh, Rachel’s mystic girl powers—as her father called them—tingled. Zoë liked him!
Seth slouched into the chair beside the bed, explaining that he had seen Zoë enter the infirmary and not emerge again, so he had come to check on her. He asked if she was okay and how she was doing. Zoë answered nonchalantly, but Rachel got the distinct impression that she was very pleased. He didn’t stay long, but Zoë had an unusually big smile after he left.
As he departed, he passed Marta Fisher, the daughter of their science tutor. She was a studious young woman with straight blond hair. A copper-hilted dagger stuck up from a sheath on her hip, the symbol of membership in the Brotherhood of the White Hart, a secret organization devoted to the safety of the World of the Wise. Marta was one of only five Roanoke students who had been deemed worthy of membership.
Marta paused at the fountain, spotted the two girls, and walked over to their bed, frowning slightly. “Hi, Rachel. Hi, Zoë. How are you two feeling?”
“A bit better.” Rachel broke off a piece of her chocolate bar and held it out to her.
“No, thank you,” said Marta.
“I’ll take that.” Zoë snatched it from Rachel’s fingers and gulped it down. “Ah, chocolate. The good stuff.” The quoll watched its mistress eat with great interest. Zoë flicked it fondly on the head. “Sorry, no chocolate for you. I don’t know if chocolate is good for quolls.”
Marta said, “Rachel, are you here because Abraham Van Helsing hurt you?”
“No.” Rachel drew out the word, puzzled.
“Which Van Helsing?” Zoë muttered. “The vampire-hunting college kid? Or the one from the novel Dracula? Is this a Transylvania thing? If so, this time, it wasn’t my fault.”
“Um, okay, but...” said Marta, “Rachel, did you ask Sigfried Smith to punch Abraham?”
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