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“Indeed,” Arthur replied.
“And what are you going
to do while I’m at the interview?” I asked.
“I requested some new tomes to be delivered and they just arrived at the library, so I think I shall peruse them.”
I couldn’t stop thinking about the dream, so I did venture to ask Arthur one question.
“Arthur, what would happen if a Slayer became a vampire?”
Arthur’s face paled. “That would be a very bad thing indeed, and it’s not something we like to think about.”
“Has it ever happened?”
“No, and it’s my job to ensure that it never will. Don’t think of such matters, it will only lead you down a dark path of doubt and fear.”
His answer troubled me, not just the content of it, but the way the words were rushed. Arthur was usually a placid man and it took a great deal to rouse passion within him, so there definitely seemed to be more to this. It was the first time that I really doubted him. There was so much I didn’t know about Arthur and the history of Slayers as a whole. Everything had I learned had been from Arthur, and I thought I should do some research of my own because I felt something from that dream, something dark and powerful, and it wasn’t as easy to dismiss as Arthur seemed to think.
Becoming a vampire had only been something I thought about in passing. I was confident in my abilities as a Slayer, but not to the point where I was reckless. Arthur had warned me that a Slayer’s greatest downfall was her own ego, and I had assumed he was talking from experience regarding what had happened with my aunt. I had asked him how she died, but it evidently caused him great pain. The two of them had been close for a long time and he wasn’t just her mentor; he was her friend. He said she had made a mistake that had cost her everything, and since he pushed me so hard to concentrate and be mindful of my surroundings, I could only assume that she had let her guard slip in battle and a vampire she fought was able to kill her.
So far, none of the vampires I had faced had been deadly or skilled. The ancient ones were the ones Slayers had to worry about. The only danger from the minions was their number, for as powerful as she was, she was just one warrior against an army.
However, for the time being, I had to push those worries aside and focus on my interview. After breakfast I got dressed and then Arthur was ready with the car to drive me to Angel Academy. I watched the world whiz by as we circled the city and made our way to the large academy that was situated in the woods. It was a private, prestigious place that offered students a varied education. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have been able to get in, but the Slayer organization had garnered a lot of favors over the years and one of them had been influence in the academy. It also helped that a sizeable donation had been made recently. I wasn’t a fan of how the world worked but it seemed logical to take advantage of it.
The road turned into an avenue that was lined with trees. Their leaves were lush and the trunks were wide and sturdy. They were so tall it seemed as though they were standing guard. The avenue was straight and it led up to black iron gates tipped with gold. A stone wall ran around the perimeter and a plaque had been nailed into the pillar. There was a buzzer next to the gate and a place to swipe a card. Since we didn’t have a card, Arthur pressed the buzzer and announced our arrival. The gates swung open slowly, creaking. The tires of the car crunched the gravel of the drive. It was straight and the lawn stretched out for acres.
The gravel drive led up to a fountain and the gravel path formed a circle around this centerpiece. I gazed in awe at the fountain. It was a grand design that stood about six feet tall by my estimation. Cherubs sat around the rim of the lowest bowl of the fountain, and in the middle an angel rose up high, its wings and arms spread out, and its neck was arched back as it gazed up to heaven. Cherubs clung to this angel, and around the angel were shells, harps and trumpets. Water trickled down over its wings and into the main fountain. It was a resplendent sight, and the pose was so dynamic, I almost expected the angel to ascend and soar through the sky.
The main building stood before us, tall, wide and imposing. The red bricks were bright and the sun gleamed on the wide windows, making it look as though they were winking as we drove up.
Arthur parked the car and opened the door for me. He checked that I had everything I needed and then he wished me luck.
“I’ll return in a few hours,” he said. I nodded and watched him depart. The car traveled back up the gravel path and receded into the distance. I turned, took a deep breath, and made my way up the stairs to the large doors. As I grew closer I heard the sounds of people moving around, and as I looked up, I wondered how many students came here. I wore a blouse and trousers, which were about the smartest things I owned, and I carried with me all the documents from the orphanage, which showed my test results and academic ability.
Arthur said this interview was merely a formality, but I wasn’t sure I believed him. I wasn’t even sure that I would fit in here, but he was convinced that it would be a good place for me, and I was willing to endure a few years of hardship if it meant I could have some better opportunities in life afterwards. I never wanted to be dependent on anyone and I never wanted to feel as helpless as I had done in the orphanage. I wanted control over my own life in case I was ever abandoned again.
My boots clacked over the marble floor as I entered. There was a pattern etched into the floor and there were paintings hung all around the oval lobby. There were doors at regular intervals, leading to different parts of the academy, and a staircase that rose to another level. The doors were open and more sound poured through, the sound of life, and yet I felt so distant from them while standing out here. There were portraits hanging on the walls, of academics who were held in high esteem. The biggest and most prominent was of William Angel, the founder of the academy.
I walked up to the reception desk and mentioned that I was there for an interview. She smiled at me, checked a book, and then had me sign in. She gave me a visitor’s badge and instructed me to wait for someone to call me. I perched on a wooden bench and took in more of my surroundings. It was such a pristine place; it seemed a world away from the orphanage in which I had grown up. I gazed at the portraits of all the academics and it seemed as though they were staring back at me. I wondered if any of them had ever known the truth about the world. This seemed to be a place that was untouched by evil, and it was easy to forget that out there, in the nearby city, undead monsters roamed freely.
In here, I was just a normal girl with everything to prove.
“Miss Carpenter? If you’d like to come this way,” a voice said. I looked up as my name was uttered and saw a prim lady opening a door for me. She wore a green shirt, and a pleasing smile. Perhaps it wouldn’t be as bad as I thought. She led me through a narrow corridor into a room where two other people were sitting. She gestured for me to take a seat, and then introduced herself and the others.
“I’m Mrs. Thorpe, this is Headmaster Griff and the Head of Academics Mr. Hanon.”
They nodded in turn. My gaze drifted to all three of them. The two men were slim and pale, with high cheekbones and grey eyes. The Headmaster, especially, seemed to glower and I only felt comforted by Mrs. Thorpe.
“Thank you for seeing me, it’s an honor to be here,” I said, trying to remember to be polite and respectful. I placed my file on the oak table but none of them seemed concerned with it. The walls were adorned with leather bound books and they each had a notebook in front of them, with a pen, although none of them had taken the pen in their fingers.
“I see that you have received no formal education,” Headmaster Griff said. I was taken aback by how harsh he was. It didn’t seem like an accommodating question and it took me a few moments to compose a response.
“While I didn’t attend a high school, I did receive an education from the nuns that ran the orphanage. As you see here,” I pushed the file a little nearer to him, although the Headmaster made no move to take it, “I have proven myself academically.”
“You were raised in an orphanage; that must have been ve
ry tough. Can you tell us a little bit about that?” Mrs. Thorpe asked.
