it, at least a dozen, maybe more. They were hunched over papers and surrounded by enormous stacks of books and piled-up teacups, everyone still and quiet and concentrating. This was a room for study.
As they entered, Rook cleared her throat. The group looked up and then leapt to their feet, practically knocking over book piles and lamps in their haste. Morrigan wondered if this visit had been sprung on them, and if they were terrified of Rook or just excited to see her. Should she be terrified of Rook, she wondered? She didn’t seem anywhere near as bad as Dearborn.
It took Morrigan a moment to realise that none of them were, in fact, looking at the Scholar Mistress. They were staring at her. And to complete this entirely unlikely scenario, they burst into applause.
‘Welcome!’ cried one of them, and another shouted, ‘Bravo, Morrigan!’ (Bravo for what, exactly, she didn’t know.)
‘Mr O’Leary!’ Morrigan said, suddenly noticing a familiar, smiling face. She stared at her Opening a Dialogue with the Dead teacher, an elderly gentleman with bright, piercingly blue eyes. He leaned on a handsome carved walking stick, and his snow-white hair was combed neatly and parted down the side.
‘You might as well call me Conall, Wundersmith,’ he told her, eyes twinkling with merriment. ‘We don’t indulge in formalities down here.’
Rook gestured vaguely at the group. ‘Morrigan Crow, meet the basement nerds. Basement nerds, Morrigan Crow.’
Conall arched an eyebrow at the Scholar Mistress. ‘I can only presume you meant to introduce us by what you well know is our actual name – the Sub-Nine Academic Group.’
‘Presume away,’ Rook said, staring back at him.
Morrigan found that she recognised a few of the group members, by faces if not by names. Next to Conall O’Leary stood a young man Morrigan had seen on the Arcane floors, who might have been a senior scholar, or a very recent graduate, and there were a few teachers she’d seen around Proudfoot House. Rounding out the group, a foxwun wearing a coat of burgundy velvet sat calmly on the floor in front, watching her with a polite curiosity.
‘Welcome!’ shouted the teenager, making his way to the front of the group to shake Morrigan’s hand, a little too eagerly.
‘Inside voice please, Ravi. We don’t want to scare her off,’ said the foxwun kindly. She looked up at Morrigan and nodded. ‘Hello. I’m Sofia. Unit 897. I hope you don’t mind the ambush, Morrigan, it’s just that we’re so happy to be meeting you at last. It’s truly an honour.’
Morrigan looked around at all the faces beaming back at her and was shocked to find that she believed that improbable statement. Nobody had ever been honoured to meet her before.
‘Sofia, Conall,’ said Rook, beckoning the pair of them, ‘I think we’ll take Morrigan to the Liminal Hall. The rest of you just … carry on nerding.’
Morrigan followed Rook, Sofia and Conall from the warmth of the study room and back to the cold marble hallway. They turned left into one of the cavernous chambers, and the word Williams lit up above the doorway as they entered. They didn’t stay in Williams, however, but crossed the floor into another room called Muhrer, which led to another called Treloar.
‘I can’t tell you how thrilled we were to learn that the Wundrous Society would have its own Wundersmith once again,’ Sofia continued as they walked. ‘We wanted to speak with you – to congratulate you – as soon as you made your announcement. It truly was so brave of you.’
‘But Elder Quinn said we had to wait until after your first C&D meeting,’ said Conall.
Morrigan looked up at him. ‘So the Elders are in charge of the School of Wundrous Arts, too?’
Conall, Sofia and Rook exchanged a look.
‘Let’s just say there’s an extremely unofficial understanding between the Elders and us,’ said Conall carefully. ‘It suits them to ask us no questions, so we tell them no lies. We think they must understand that what we’re doing in the Sub-Nine Academic Group is important, even if they don’t know much about it. They let us carry on quietly, so long as we don’t cause them any trouble.’
Morrigan smiled at that. She found she liked the thought of the Elders not knowing about everything that happened in the Society. ‘What exactly is the Sub-Nine Academic Group?’
‘It was the School of Wundrous Arts,’ said Sofia. They’d entered a fourth chamber now: Gibbs. Every room had so far looked the same: white marble floors and walls without