A Proper Education: Chapter One

"Take the child," Ma said with a sneer. "My debt is paid."

"Will she make a dutiful wife?" the Collector asked, though his skull remained still.

"She'll do as she's told," Ma answered, "or she'll be thrown to the woods."

Wonda appeared beside them, her head caved in and her face painted with blood.

"I's could see 'er to proper use. I's could take 'er to a lovely 'ouse."

"I'll be her only keeper," the Collector bit back.

His talon dipped into his dark robes and when it reappeared there sat a mountain of coins in his palm, too many to hold, and several spilled onto the ground. He offered them to Ma.

"Her price."

Ma shook her head. "It was paid. Her soul for my freedom."

"I's might like a bit 'o coin, stranger-bones."

"You will not worry for her?" the Collector asked, ignoring Wonda.

"Should I?" replied Ma. Her face twisted into the visage of Lilith. "No. It's the reason she was born."

Credence woke with a short gasp.

Sunlight streamed through three giant, glassless windows, fully lighting the room around her. Several faces, huddled together, stared down. They did not look unpleasant or angry, but curious and cautious.

There wasn't a single grown up among them.

When she opened her eyes, a few of them pulled back as if they had expected her to sleep forever.

"Gray eyes," a voice said, though Credence couldn't place its owner. "You owe me two bronze, Yvette."

"You said they'd be gray-blue," argued another voice. "Those are just gray. I owe you nothing."

Credence slowly sat up in bed. Part of her was immediately on guard, ready for an attack. She silently dared someone to make the mistake of engaging her in a fight.

"Good morning," she said carefully. "I'm Credence."

Incomprehensible noise rose around her as every child simultaneously gave their name back, and Credence couldn't catch a single one through the din.

"Hold on, one at a time," the same voice that demanded two bronze from Yvette said. "She can't hear if we all talk at once."

The children turned to their leader, and Credence followed their gaze to a boy a few years older than she was, who had a pleasant smile on his face. The nest of brown hair atop his head looked like it had never seen a comb. Freckles dotted his face like stars and his grin showed a missing tooth.

Credence nodded towards him. "What's your name?"

"Adam. Pleased t' meet you, Credence."

Under Adam's guidance, each child took a turn introducing themselves. There were so many that Credence couldn't possibly remember them all, but Adam assured her that in little time she would know every last one as well as a brother or sister.

Among the group was a child named Tildy, who took Credence's hand and held it tight, not once letting it slip from her grasp. Credence didn't mind Tildy's grip, for the girl was very young and seemed to instantly take to Credence for one reason or another, so much that Credence believed Tildy might already love her dearly. If the child needed comfort or reassurance, Credence wouldn't neglect her.

After what she'd seen the night before, Credence could do with a comforting hand herself.

"Breakfast soon," Adam announced to the room. "Time to get dressed."

Everyone scrambled from Credence's bed, all but Tildy, whose hand remained firmly around her new friend.

"Help dress," Tildy said, tugging on Credence's nightgown.

Credence was pulled to Tildy's bed, where the child pointed to the wooden chest sitting at its foot.

"Too heavy," Tildy said with a pout and Credence understood what was expected of her.

Credence opened the chest and retrieved the only items there: A pair of brown pants, a shirt, and a short length of rope. Just like the room before the Auction, no one cared about changing in front of each other, and there was no curtain or corner for modesty.

Tildy raised her arms as Credence tugged the nightgown above her head, and kept them dutifully in the air so Credence could pull the shirt over her. She held onto Credence's shoulders as she stepped into the pants, and waited patiently while Credence tied the oversized waist with the rope.

Credence was still in her nightgown, so she urged Tildy to let go of her hand and walked back to her own bed. Tildy remained close behind, like a wolf stalking its prey. Credence opened the wooden chest at the end of her bed, expecting to find the dress she had worn before inside. It was gone, replaced with a pair of brown pants and a shirt, and Credence was comforted in the knowledge that she wouldn't have to stand out in her blue dress. The very second she was finished dressing, Tildy grabbed her hand once more.

"Breakfast," Tildy said and pulled Credence towards the door at the front of the room, where many children had begun to congregate. The child stopped abruptly and turned to examine Credence's hand, only just realizing that something felt different, and grimaced when she found the empty space.

"It hurts," Tildy said as she poked the puffed scar.

"No," Credence said, hoping the child wouldn't bring the rest of the room's attention to it.

"You hurt."

"No," Credence repeated. "Not anymore. It's nothing."

To Credence's relief, Tildy accepted that answer and grabbed her new friend's hand again, this time with a little less squeezing.

Adam was at the head of the room watching everyone closely, and he began to call to the children who were lagging. At the sound of his voice those still undressed put a bit of energy in their step. Adam hadn't threatened them, merely noted they were holding up the group, and it was enough to spur those lazing into action. Only after everyone was ready did Adam open the door and step to the side to direct them out, reminding after them:

"Quiet in the hallway. Keep walking."

When Credence and Tildy came to the door, Adam frowned at the sight of their clasped hands.

"You know the rules. Hands to yourself in line."

With a small grumble, Tildy's hand dropped to her side and her chin fell against her chest. She left in front of Credence, with the slightest dragging of her feet. Adam stopped Credence before she left the room, nodding his head towards the younger child.

"Careful with that one, or she'll have you doing everything for her. She can sense a sympathetic heart and she'll use it to her advantage."

He tapped on the door to the room, his fingers grazing the carved image of a rabbit's face.

"Rooms have a different animal on them so you know which one is yours. Remember that you are a rabbit."

The children remained silent as they moved through the hallway, where Credence saw several more doors, all with various animal faces, from doves to deer to daces, lined up on both sides. As it was in the rest of the towns the air was warm, though not as stifling as before. The smell was more pleasant here, but still tinged with the odor of people.

The line came to a stop before a door painted in deep burgundy and Adam moved swiftly to open it, watching to maintain order as everyone entered the next room.

Credence thought the room she slept in was crowded, but she was shocked to discover dozens more children behind the burgundy door. They moved to and fro like fish in a pond, carrying bowls back and forth to several tables. They were chatting amongst themselves, their mood light and easy, and although they caused a great deal of noise it was nowhere close to the cacophony of the Auction.

Following her line, Credence stopped before a long table set with piles of empty bowls. Each child grabbed one before moving to a second table, upon which sat four tall, steaming pots. Behind each pot was an old woman who spooned porridge into each bowl and said nothing to the children who passed by. In return, no one paid attention to the women, but received their breakfast and moved to find an empty seat at a table.

When her bowl was filled, Credence uttered a soft, "Thank you", and was answered with a sour look from the receiver. It must have been some unknown rule not to speak to each other, so Credence took the woman's scorn as a lesson learned and moved on.

Tildy was waiting for her, and led Credence to a table where a handful of young children were busying themselves with breakfast and play. Uninterested in the conversation of her babylike companions, Credence studied the room.

It had to cost a king's sum to care for so many people.

Now Credence understood why her clothes were well-worn. They hadn't belonged to one person before her, but many. There was no other way the Headmaster could afford it. But what happened to the child whose clothing and bed Credence now occupied? Had they run away, or been sold at the Auction?

A bony elbow jostled Credence from her thoughts.

"Eat," Tildy commanded, " 'afore med'cine."

"Medicine?"

Tildy nodded and turned back to her bowl. Credence searched for Adam, knowing he'd be the best person to answer her questions, but she could not find him in the sea of young faces.

There was a small commotion when the Headmaster entered the room.

He stood with his hands behind his back, patiently waiting for silence. Gone was the painted face and wig from the previous night, as was any of the pomp and haughty airs such a costume implied. Instead, he was dressed head to toe in a long, forest green frock that buttoned high at the neck. With all the frills stripped away, the Headmaster looked normal, with red hair and a smile that enhanced the dimples of his cheeks.

He looked kind.

Handsome, Credence thought, feeling a short catch in her throat. She decided she much preferred him this way. A quick reminder of his coldness towards Wonda's fate, however, kept those thoughts from lingering.

At his appearance, the conversation slowly died in the room, and when everyone's attention was dutifully turned to him, he addressed the room with a friendly tone.

"Good morning, students."

"Good morning, Headmaster," every child greeted back.

He clapped his hands and the women behind the large pots moved to his side, taking from their apron pockets a spoon and a tall bottle of brownish-black liquid.

"Time for medicine," the Headmaster announced, and at the word 'medicine' the children rose from their tables to line up in front of him.

Forming a line with so many people proved a clumsy affair, but it was still a well-practiced routine, and there was no fuss about who came first or last. Tildy took Credence's hand and led her to the line, putting the older girl in front of her, and they waited silently as each child was given a spoonful of medicine. It was reminiscent of what Credence experienced under Miss Scrubbs, when the red stripes were given a cup of wine. As with the cups, the two spoons were reused without any ado over cleaning them between children. When each child finished their medicine they opened their mouth to show a clean tongue, and after a nod of approval they were sent out of the room.

Not wanting to cause trouble on her first day, Credence took her spoonful without any fuss or thanks, following the lead set by those before her. She expected the medicine to be bitter and unpleasant, and was surprised to find a sugary syrup on her tongue. It was delicious, like a small dessert after a meal.

I might enjoy school, she thought.

She swallowed the sap and smiled at the Headmaster, then opened her mouth for approval.

"Taken to it very well, I see," the Headmaster complimented and Credence blushed under his praise. "Adam is waiting for you. He'll show you the way from here."

As she left the room, Credence turned back to give a farewell glance to Tildy, who was currently opening her mouth to receive a spoonful of medicine, and whose expression suggested a world of gloom at having to part with her new friend. Still, the young girl didn't say a word to express her disappointment.

The children are so well behaved, Credence thought.

No one wanted to upset the tranquil balance of things, and Credence took this as a good sign.

On the other side of the door, Adam was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

"How was breakfast?" he asked.

"Very good."

"And the medicine?"

"Oh! It was—"

"Even better?"

"Delicious."

"Glad to hear it," Adam said with a chuckle. "Most newcomers are afraid the first time they hear the word, but everyone agrees it's one of the best things about this place."

"I thought medicine was only for people who are sick."

"Not this kind. It keeps us healthy and wakes our minds so we can learn our lessons better."

He began a walk through the school, up a second flight of stairs that opened into another hallway. Credence thought him very mature for his age, and the way he comported himself was exactly like a grown up.

"Have you been here long?" she asked, trying to make friendly conversation.

"Long enough."

"Where were you before? Do you have a family?"

"Eh, I don't talk about that. All you need to know is I'm happy not to be there anymore."

"Everyone obeys your command like you're a leader."

"That's because I know everything about this place." Adam's chest puffed with pride. "I know all the rules and what's expected of us, and the Headmaster likes me because I don't give him trouble."

"Do the others give him trouble?"

"Not too many. They know what will happen if they misbehave."

"What will happen?"

Adam stopped walking. "Punishment, of course."

"What sort of punishment?"

"The kind best left unsaid unless you wish to receive it."

It was an odd response, and something in Adam's tone made Credence uneasy.

"You saw how mornings go," Adam continued, resuming his walk, "and it's the same every day: Wake up and get dressed for breakfast. Take your medicine. After that comes lessons, and then dinner and a bath. You get free time in the evenings before bed. It's an easy life here, and you'll settle into it quicker than you think."

"What about the rules?"

"Main thing to know is: Don't speak to a grown up unless they speak to you first. The Headmaster likes quiet and doesn't want us speaking to any of the domestics."

"The old women? So that's why she was upset when I thanked her."

"I saw that. Yeah, they don't like it when students speak 'cause it's against the rules. But no one will tell on you for your first time. You didn't know, so no harm done, but now you do, and you'll make sure not to break that rule again."

"Why is it a rule though? Why can't we talk to grown ups?"

"It's just the way things are. There are only two reasons to break that rule: The Headmaster tells you to, or someone is hurt. If you get a cut or there's a fight, it's not against the rules to tell the first grown up you see."

"Are there a lot of them—fights?"

"No. Those are instant punishment and everyone knows it. Still, once in a while things happen. Sometimes it can't be helped."

"Have you ever been in a fight?"

"I'm Headmaster's favorite for a reason. Never been in a fight, 'cause it's against the rules. And I don't break the rules."

"What's lessons?"

"Eh?"

"You said after breakfast and medicine comes lessons. What is it?"

"Well, some of them are from the Headmaster, where he teaches you things. There's more to it, but you'll see soon enough."

"Does he teach reading and sums? I can do that already."

"No, nothing like that. He teaches important things."

Credence paused, and Adam stopped walking when he noticed.

"What is it, Credence?"

"There was a lady called Mistress Cinder. She told the Headmaster to educate me so she could be my keeper. I don't know what sort of education she meant though, if not reading and sums."

Adam's expression softened and he placed a hand on Credence's shoulder.

"You're scared 'cause you're new. It'll pass, trust me. School is nothing to be afraid of, and neither is having a keeper. Everyone wants to be given to a good home, and the Auction is the best place to find one. School is where you get ready for it, to prepare for a new, better life."

"You want to be sold at the Auction?"

Adam considered her question.

"Headmaster wouldn't want to lose his best student," he said finally. "I won't ever go to the Auction. School's my home."

"What if I would like the school to be my home, too?"

Adam pointed a finger at her, and his expression was stern. "Don't start any talk like that. That's another rule: Everyone leaves. Everyone goes to the Auction. No one stays here."

"But you do?"

"I'm the exception to the rule," Adam replied bluntly. "I'm special."