God Loves Angels

«Miss Burling, Madame Director is expecting you. Please follow me. – She said and disappeared in the doorway. I turned to my things, and they obediently floated through the air past me to the door, as if it was said to them. I ran after.

Finding myself in the large front hall of the castle, I admired the huge bronze clock, towering between the columns and arches. On the wall hung a huge tapestry with the school’s emblem – a huge gilded globe, against the background of the sun, whose rays in sharp lines diverged in all directions, and in the center there was a beautiful letter N with curls. Around this sun was the inscription: «Nordlig ly på jordkanten». This whole composition was cast in gold and glittered in the lights of a huge chandelier on the ceiling.

My suitcase crashed against the left wall of the hall. The sorceress who meets me is gone. I was at a loss for a minute, but realized that the door in front of which my suitcase stood was where I should go.

I went over and knocked on the door.

Chapter 3. In the office of Brutilde

I entered the office of the director, Madame Brutilde Escalotte, a sorceress of the highest order, as the golden plaque at the door said. The room in which I found myself was round, all in dark brown tones and with only one narrow window, filled with flowers so densely that it was impossible to see what was outside. The chocolate-colored bookcases filled with books and stacks of yellowed papers lent the cabinet a tangible library aura. A light rustled in the small fireplace. A chandelier hung over the table itself, illuminating the room, cabinets and table with the yellow light of an electric lamp, not penetrating into the shadows under the table and the mysterious gloom above the ceiling.

A thin lady was seated at the table on a high-backed chair. She was the same age as my grandmother, but in her stern form and sharp-sighted look, one could feel energy and power. Brutilde looked at me.

Hello Miss Burling. I’m tired of waiting for you. – said the director imperiously, calmly and unhurriedly. She tapped her finger lightly on the table. I noticed that on her thick wrinkled fingers large emeralds on the rings shimmered with a dull light. My grandmother has a similar ring. I greeted and handed to Brutilde a letter written by my grandmother, my application for admission.

– Have a seat.

On the left, I noticed a black figure. At first it scared me. I thought that someone was hiding against the wall. But it turned out to be just a raincoat hanging on a hanger. No, most likely, on a hook, because underneath the hanger legs were not visible. Someone from afar could have mistaken him for a man in a long cloak. But I saw that there were no boots under it. And the cloak itself was a thin shapeless matter and was too thin to hide a person under it. At the top of the cloak was a black head – a helmet-like mask, but made with small triangular ears and a pointed nose. The black eye sockets were empty. This made me happy. I felt creepy when the thought came that there was someone else in the office besides me and Madame Brutilde. This head itself was staring at the floor in front of it. She probably hung on the same hook as the cloak. To myself, I called this outfit «Black Fox». It was the fox that reminded me of the head-mask. I had no time to think why the director would need such an outfit. But this made Madame Brutilde seem even more stern and stern to me.

Brutilda unrolled the pages on the table in front of her. She put on her glasses and stuck her pointed nose into the large swirls of grandmother’s ink.

– Thirteen years! Good age, but you should have enrolled a year early! – There was a remark.

All the stern look of the headmistress and her tough remark upset me. Really, they won’t take me to school? Will they refuse, as if I have no magical powers? Is it because I’m late?! And what will grandma say? She will probably cry. How do I get home?

– Hmm, your birthday fell on an important astronomical date! Very rare. Appreciate it! I think your rebellious age will not be a hindrance.

Brutilda put the papers in a drawer and lifted her spectacles to her forehead, peering into a thick open book.

– Hmm, right and… Right. – Concluded Brutilde. At these words, the book rose above the table and floated in my direction. A large feather, probably a peacock, which served as a decoration for a gilded glass inkwell, suddenly hovered over the book. The book lay flat in front of me, the pen froze in the air. I was dumbfounded at the first moment.

This is the moment when I sign my magic contract. The moment from which I am under the tutelage and protection of the castle and at the same time I am responsible for my actions to the school and its director. My grandmother used to tell me about the importance of her signature. It was a long time ago. I didn’t take her words seriously. And now, when the thick book lay in front of me, I felt cold inside. Feeling the stern gaze of Brutilde on me, I obeyed my choice. My grandmother’s choice, first of all. I will study at Nordlig and become a strong sorceress, a tall lady.

I took a long and fluffy feather floating in the air above the book and wrote my first and last name. I tried to print the letters more beautifully, but it didn’t work. First, the plumage was constantly moving and blocked my view. And most importantly, the tip of the pen was scribbled over the paper. The result was like a chicken’s paw. I looked at the signature with disappointment and resentment and hardly recognized my name in them. It was impossible to fix anything.

– well! – exclaimed Brutilde. The pen and the book spontaneously flew to a small desk cabinet in the corner of the room. The director handed me a folded sheet of paper. – This is your schedule. It lists all the assigned hours. Do not be late, we are strict with this. You can check the exact time of Nordlig with the clock in the front hall. We all live and work for them.

I nodded.

– Your new school uniform is in your suitcase. And Madame Rector, Mrs. Argento, will show you to your chambers.

Brutilde looked at the door. I turned around, but there was no one there. And it couldn’t have been, I would have heard if someone had come in. I turned back to the director.

– Good luck in your first year of knowledge at Nordlig.

Brutilda smiled. Her eyebrows rose a little, and the gesture changed her face. It became kind and caring. Brutilda now looked more like my grandmother. A smile appeared on my face too. I feel better. I do not know what I expected from the meeting with the director, but my spirits improved.

– Thank. – I answered and left the office.

They were already waiting for me in the corridor. A tall, thin sorceress in a dark green robe; with a fashionable, miniature, the same emerald color, a hat shifted to one side, which did not hide the shiny bronze-colored hair, but emphasized their extraordinary splendor. Madame Argento.

Chapter 4. Through the corridors

«I am Madame Argento, rector of the Nordlig School. Follow me. I’ll show you where the women’s hostel is. Boys and girls live in different wings of the castle. And meals and some lessons are held together. You yourself will learn everything about this and many other things later. «And Madame Argento took me to the women’s hostel. It was located right there in the castle. Great!

I turned around and noticed that my suitcase and small duffel bag were gone. This worried me. My stuff! Someone took them. By themselves, they could not evaporate. Or could they?

«It’s afternoon.» Lessons will start in half an hour.

– Ah … – I gave a voice. He sounded uncertain, aloof, – My things… Bag and suitcase. They…

I didn’t know how to say Gone. Wouldn’t that seem like an accusation of theft?

– Do not worry. They are already waiting for you in the hostel. – answered Madame Argento, turning her face to me. Then she raised her hand and snapped her fingers.

– Voila!

I guess my mouth opened with confusion. Voila?

At the mention of dinner, my stomach rumbled. I immediately felt hungry. And I was ashamed to admit this to Madame Argento. I decided that I would survive one missed lunch. I also figured out how I could have skipped lunch: after all, I went in a balloon with Franklin at about eleven o’clock in the afternoon! And the flight itself took several minutes. So it seemed to me. What if the travel time actually took longer? This would then explain my awakened feeling of hunger. Yes, I didn’t really have breakfast. But I would be hungry in a few hours. Or do they dine here much earlier?

Then the hurricane of thoughts about hunger, my suitcase, old Franklin disappeared. I was amazed at the beauty of the castle.

The heels of Madame Argento’s footsteps thudded on the stone floor. Even thick red carpets could not drown out the rector’s confident gait. I almost ran after her to keep up with her. Sometimes I stumbled because I didn’t look at my feet. All my attention was absorbed by the castle. These corridors and walls, architecture and decoration. This was the pinnacle of creative thought. I guessed baroque styles and notes of older architectures. My eyes darted. I turned to the paintings, canvases hanging in the corridors and huge colored tapestries. A whole museum could be assembled from all these paintings. Stern faces in huge wigs. Ladies in lush dresses. The artists depicted in their creations in great detail gorgeous balls, festive meals, faces of significant persons of bygone times and art workers and perfectly reflected the spirit of the past era.

They depicted hunting scenes, and simply landscapes, and much more, than people lived many centuries ago. But for me it all seemed like a fairy tale, not connected with reality, the fiction of an unknown artist. How can a lady of advanced age wear such a cap on her head, more like a rubber bathing cap, together with such an expensive dress, and a choker around her neck? I think no. But at the time, it might seem fashionable.

High ceilings were propped up by semi-columns with lush bas-reliefs. Huge stained glass windows, bright patterns on the curtains, in which I dreamed of unusual colored embroidery, and mystical stories dedicated to important events of magical life.

I reluctantly left it all behind and stepped onto the flight of stairs, followed Madame Argento to the second floor. Here the splendor has diminished. The ceilings were of normal height, the paintings on the walls were not visible. The half-curtained windows threw in a faint light, but still chased away the melancholy twilight. There were few doors. This was more like a school in the world of ordinary people, if not for the exquisite carvings on wooden doors. I was sure that behind these doors were classrooms, devoid of the expensive decoration of the main hall of the castle and the adjacent galleries.

Madame Argento led me down a quiet corridor, opened the door, behind which there was a spiral staircase, and we climbed even higher. The steps went further, where above through an invisible window, blinding sunbeams lay on the stone wall. I smelled a hint of floral scent. Our path passed this welcoming sign. Now he was walking along a narrow dark passage, and my anxiety was growing. I was afraid to appear in front of other students. I’m new and I don’t know anyone yet. How will other girls accept me?

Then the thought came to me that just as I am now walking along a castle that is new for me, one day my grandmother was walking. The young woman, probably unsure of herself, was heading to the women’s hostel, and did not know what awaited her outside the door. And my mom? My grandmother did not tell me where she studied. But I’m sure it’s also in Nordlig. Perhaps it was here that she met her dad, and they fell in love. These walls mean more to me than I thought. Here I can touch the past of people dear to me.

I clenched my fists for a second, trying to give myself confidence. The rector opened the door, entered, and stopped. I immediately bumped into her and stumbled on the threshold, taking a step back. I hastened to squeeze out an apology and stopped short.

We stood in a spacious room with about twenty girls of different ages. Their faces immediately turned to us. The din of conversation subsided. All girls were in school uniforms. And I stood alone, unlike everyone else in my usual clothes. A second later there was a loud greeting:

– Good afternoon, Madame Argento!

There was silence. The girls stood and did not move. It seemed to me that they were all gathered on purpose so that they would meet me. I could hear my heartbeat and the crackling of logs in the large fireplace. My suitcase and bag lay near the door.

The rector nodded:

– Good day to you, young ladies! – Then she made a gesture in my direction, I felt a soft push in my back and obediently took two steps forward.

«This is Miss Roselyn Burling. Your new colleague. I ask you to love, and favor, and help her become «Heflig Miss»!