The Wandmaker

Left, Right, Left, Right

C H A P T E R      e i g h t

The corridor was cold, dark and dreary. She was on a high level of the school, in one of the cast off corners that no one bothered to clean or decorate, so it was deserted and covered with a light layer of dust. Outside the sun was rising, sending tendrils of light dancing across the treetops. Symbida could just see the tip of the orange glow through the windows as she silently crept along the cold corridor.

Each step was harder than the next. She had to force herself to put the next foot in front.

Left. Right. Left. Right . Left.

She felt like she was marching to her doom. The shadows dancing on the walls, made by the rising sun, only made the situation seem even more desperate, even more ridiculously hopeless.

Right. Left. Right. Left.

She came across an intersection, where two corridors met. Without much thought, she crept down the one to her right, keeping to the walls, her eyes on the ground in front of her.

Right. Left. Right.

It was extremely quiet in the still air. No students ran around laughing and joking, running up and down the corridors or pulling faces. The portraits were asleep as well, snoring on the walls and the suits of armour stood tall and resolute. Of course, that was to be expected as it was about five in the morning.

Symbida ducked through corridors of every shape and size, heading towards the general area of the headmistress' office. She had heard that in times before, the office of the headmaster or headmistress was kept a secret, visited by a select few. This didn't happen with Lampurn. The office was well known by every student, and feared by most.

It was known as Her Office, and was on the seventh floor, accessible by a golden gargoyle. It was on the same floor that she was on now, a thought that filled her with both relief and dread. Since it was close, there was a chance that she might not get caught by another student or teacher. Her plan was to take herself directly to Lampurn, without a story concocted by someone else about how she was trying to sneak out of the school.

Her footsteps could be heard now, as she was making no effort to keep in the shadows or move silently. She was almost running, her head bent down and her gaze directly in front of her.

Left. Right. Le-

Symbida ran headfirst into a wall.

At least, she thought it was a wall.

She rebounded back, skidding on her side along the ground a considerable way. Her head began to throb terribly, needles of pain jabbing incessantly in her brain. She didn't seem to be bleeding, but she checked her leg only to find a huge graze from her ankle to her thigh from sliding on the hard floor. Squeezing her eyes tight to fight the growing pain, Symbida forced herself to breathe. In, out, in, out. Her heart rate gradually slowed as her breaths steadied her pulse. And slowly, very slowly, the pain began to ebb away.

She hadn't grown up on a farm for nothing. There, scratches were inevitable, so she knew how to deal with a little bit of pain. Once her heart had stopped pounding in her rib cage, Symbida scrambled to her feet and glanced around to find the offending wall.