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Thirteen: First Impressions

Daphne Haskins sat, silently watching the crowd before her. Many of those gathered were like her, old, over-indulged, hungry for something new, but there were others too. She found her gaze drawn back, again and again to two of Kingston’s finest, alien among the aged and insatiable. The girl was of her own height, though she was slim and strong. Her hair was a deep brown and her eyes a bright blue, but her rose coloured lips were pulled in a thin frustrated line. Her dark eyebrows were pulled together and her expression was curious to Daphne. It even brought a smile to her lips to see the child, the pride and joy of Kingston, so full of rage and hatred towards her creators. The girl had been dressed for the occasion in the fine gown, its blue-silver skirts trailing about her on the marble floor. Jewels ordained her skin and hair, but none of these beautiful things could disguise her ferocity and power.

The boy who stood at a careful distance from her seemed as resentful of their surroundings as the girl, but he was slightly better at concealing his hatred. His blonde hair was swept to one side and as he spoke to the girl he ran his fingers through it frustrated. She wondered briefly how long he had managed to keep it tidy before he had started to mess it. Daphne tapped her glass with her long fingernails, as the boy rolled his eyes and replied to the girl coolly. Daphne wondered if his hatred was not for Kingston but for something or somebody else. He seemed very uncomfortable talking to the girl. She doubted others could see the anger in them. They would be distracted by their power and majesty. She could feel the smile on her own lips as she watched them.

“Grandmother, what are you smiling about?” Daphne glanced up to see her grandson standing by her chair. He watched her suspiciously for a moment before sitting beside her.

“Matthew, an old woman with such a handsome grandson should not need an excuse to smile,” she laughed, taking his hand between her ring-clad fingers and squeezing it.

“If you say so grandmother,” he said dismissively. She regarded him careful. He seemed relaxed, a large feat when Elmhirst was near. He was watching the head boy and head girl too. He seemed fascinated by their every move, their every action. They engrossed him. And why shouldn’t they? They were otherworldly.

“Are you enjoying your evening?” she asked casually, lifting one hand from his and raising her glass of wine to her lips.

He glanced at her doubtfully, with a slightly contemptuous expression. “I have had better evenings,” he replied tightly. “I have a job to do and I worry that…”

“Stop worrying, child,” Daphne sighed dismissively. “You will manage it, in time”.

“But I don’t have time,” he breathed irritably. He did not look at her as he spoke. His gaze remained fixed on the head students, who were now cornered by three very similar looking white-haired, pot-bellied patrons. “This place is not what I expected. It is so… unnatural”.

“Child, be quiet,” she hissed, releasing his hand. “To you this is everything you have ever wanted. Is that understood? Even when you think you are in trustworthy company you will be in wonder of this place. They must never doubt you. The walls have ears here, child – remember that”. Matthew looked at her awkwardly, his eyebrows knotting together. He was too young to be here, little older than the soldiers. And yet the weight that had been placed on his shoulders had aged her youngest grandchild. She only worried what would happen to him if he failed or if he was caught.

“Yes, of course,” he mumbled looking back to the crowd, to the students. She sighed wondering if she had misjudged his readiness for the task, but she knew she couldn’t have left it any longer. Even Matthew knew time was running short to find what they needed.

“What do you think of the head students?” she asked, taking another sip of wine. She knew the alcohol was taking effect. Matthew looked at her, the colour in his cheeks deepening. He reminded her of the six-year-old boy who had come to live with her after his mother had passed away, rather than a twenty-two year old man.