Page 9 of The Headmistress

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

Yes, that was the saying Joanne had taught her when she was just a little kid who’d always gotten herself in trouble on behalf of others. Judging by Orla’s reaction, Sam was already being issued a one-way ticket to the underworld.

“So I’m learning.” She turned slowly, facing Magdalene. With the sun shining fully through the massive windows behind her, she was encased in light, her outline statuesque. Sam wanted to say something. Something smart or funny, something appropriate for this momentous occasion. An occasion she had fantasized about for months and thought would never come to pass - being face to face with the woman who consumed her dreams and her waking hours. Standing here, in front of her, Sam did not feel the happiness or the expected trepidation she’d envisioned. She simply felt hapless and not a little helpless. Not even naked underneath her hands and mouth, had she felt this vulnerable in front of Magdalene. Yet here she was, stripped of all her defenses in her worn flannel shirt and old Converses.

Perhaps sensing how utterly lost Sam felt, Magdalene took a step forward, only to be interrupted by the creaking of the door and Willoughby, strolling in like he owned the room—which was par for the course for the red menace that he was—unceremoniously making his way to the pillow strategically placed on the windowsill.

“Who in the world let this mongrel in?” Magdalene’s voice sounded both affronted and scandalized.

“Ah, nobody really. He lives here.” Sam felt a smile tugging on her cheeks and tried not to burst into laughter as Willoughby, in complete disregard of the potential storm brewing right next to him, stretched to his full, impressive length and promptly fell asleep on his back, all four paws up in the air. “This is Willoughby the Third, the Academy’s mascot, I guess you could call him. An animal—a dog, a cat, or a horse—has been at the school since its very inception. In a nod to the Downing Street cat, this one holds the job title of the Mouser in Chief.”

“From his bulk, he is either exceptionally good at it, or exceptionally bad at it. And from the state of the school and the accounting reports on the hiring of exterminators three times just in the past two years, should I assume it’s the latter?”

Now Sam’s smile came unbidden and blossomed fully.

“Willoughby is an unconventional employee. But you can literally set your watch by him. Depending on which pillow he chooses to sleep on during the course of the day, you can tell what time it is.”

Magdalene snorted, and the inelegant sound was so unexpected coming from someone of her deportment, Sam almost goggled.

“I assume he faithfully follows the warmest sunspots? Cats don’t belong inside. And Three Dragons doesn’t have a barn.” She strode closer to the sleeping cat, and Sam thought she would have to add poor Willoughby to the list of all the things she would be fighting for.

“With all due respect, Headmistress, he is not a barn cat. He’s one of us.”

“Well, since you are showing me the courtesy of using my official title, it will be under my purview to decide what will happen with the Mouser in Chief of Three Dragons.”

Sam opened her mouth to argue further when the door was thrown open again, now with more force, and a lanky disheveled teenager nearly jumped past Sam to get at Magdalene. She might’ve succeeded, too, if Sam’s reaction had been less swift.

“I don’t know who you think you are, but you can’t fire the teachers! Not without hearing the students out. We have the right to be heard and they have the right to a fair trial.”

Sam wanted to bang her head on the massive desk that stood between herself and Magdalene, who regarded the spectacle with a slightly raised eyebrow.

“And who might you be?” The words were dismissive, but the tone held a curious note that made Sam’s insides clench with the anxiety of what was to come. It also made her curse Orla or Joanne or whoever it was who had gotten Lily so riled up.

“I’m Lily Easterly and I’m here to tell you that there are no better teachers in the whole world than Professor Threadneedle or Professor Dorsea or Doctor Fenway!”

“Lily…” Sam’s admonishment fell on deaf ears as Lily continued to struggle in her grip.

“Well, Ms. Easterly, to your earlier questions, I am Headmistress Nox and I can do pretty much whatever I want under the Charter that governs the Academy’s functioning. As of a minute ago, I failed to see why anyone at Three Dragons would require a trial to begin with. Are they delinquents? Usually, some sort of criminal activity is required for judicial proceedings.”

There was a smile lurking in the curious eyes of the new Headmistress and Sam’s own lips twitched despite the seriousness of the situation. The calm question and the prior statement took the wind out of Lily’s sails, who sagged in Sam’s arms in obvious relief until she realized what had just happened.

“No, ma’am. I’m sorry, I just heard that you fired everyone and that you will be discontinuing the scholarships and cutting all the funding, and turning Dragons into a religious school again and… But you have to know that everyone here, all the students, we can vouch that there are no better teachers—”

“Yes, you said, Ms. Easterly. ‘In the whole world,’ was it?” Magdalene’s tone was dry, not mocking necessarily, but it was clear she did not appreciate the interruption.

Sam closed her eyes in resignation. This was so not how she would have wanted to present the scholarship girls’ case to Magdalene. But despite the unfortunate incident, Sam felt very proud of Lily and very gratified by this kind of loyalty and support. Even under the best of circumstances, the girl’s position at Dragons had always been extremely tenuous. She’d started at the school as a legacy pupil five years ago, her mother having attended a couple of decades prior, but during her time in middle school the family’s situation changed, her father gambling away their fortune, and by the time he and Lily’s mother had declared bankruptcy, they could no longer afford tuition at Dragons. But legacy student or not, Lily had a talent that was so unique, so wonderful to behold, there was no question about ensuring she’d stay. Sam knew that Orla had worked tirelessly to adjust the budget so that a hastily cobbled together scholarship could be awarded.

On top of being talented and loyal and brave, Lily had always been an incredibly sweet child. A staunch defender of truth and a fighter of lost causes, Sam saw a lot of herself in Lily. The girl was fearless, despite having a lot to lose, since she was trans and under the new Board, and their recent inroads at turning the school back to its conservartive roots, Sam worried about her continued welcome at Dragons.

While Sam wasn’t at the school when Lily had started her studies here, she knew that initially, Orla flat out hid her presence at the Academy from the trustees. Subsequently, she took it upon herself and made the unilateral decision to keep Lily at Dragons, despite the trustees’ insistence on a formal review of the overall situation and how all scholarship girls’ cases fit with the rules and procedures enshrined in the school’s charter, since the document in question contained restrictive provisions regarding scholarships.

Some parents had been up in arms about these students, and Sam knew that this summer—with some new faces among the board members—was when the true battle for Lily and Amanda and Suzie and the rest of the scholarship pupils was supposed to take place. She was fully prepared to go to war for the girls, but she wanted to throttle whomever had ruined her strategy of introducing these cases slowly and carefully.

When nothing else followed the statement from the Headmistress, both Sam, and Lily in her arms stood stock-still while Magdalene looked at them, slowly moving her curious eyes from one to the other.

“Ma’am?”

“Yes, Ms. Easterly?” Magdalene's voice was again devoid of all emotion or inflection.

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