Midnight Academy. Born at midnight. Edgars Auziņš
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– Why did we come to the library? – I persistently repeated my question, because the answer to it was the simplest.
And something else will definitely not follow him. Just one word: information, books, manual. About how to survive autonomously in the forest for a whole year if a maniac is chasing you.
But my mother couldn’t fit it into one word:
– Because this is where there is a passage to places where ordinary people cannot get.
– But we are ordinary people!
I became stubborn. She became stubborn because she wanted to finally hear at least some specifics. The recognition that I had been secretly waiting for for the last four years – ever since I realized that I was a little, but still different from normal people. Ever since I began to subconsciously guess that the maniac was somehow connected with my abilities.
Guess, yes. But don’t believe in it, don’t think about it, don’t reflect. Out of fear of being right, I cut off my guesses in the bud.
The lady in gray was clearly starting to get angry:
– Silence.
“One more second, please,” Mom asked, turning around for a moment, after which she said with a soft smile: “No, Sally.” We are not ordinary people. At least I do. I'm Midnight, honey. One of those who never sleeps at night. Of those who maintain order on this side of the world and on the other.
– Which one? By Dark? – I remembered her words in the car.
– This is what I was talking about. Behind one answer there is the next question, but I really don’t have time now, although I would really like to finally get rid of this burden. One thing I can say for sure: you will get all the answers to your questions elsewhere. Then when you are safe. We're on the second floor.
The last statement she made was no longer for me. Hearing this simple phrase, the Gray Lady silently took her chair again and feigned painstaking work. We freely walked past her desk to the massive gilded door that was located on the right.
The simple curls on the canvas sparkled under the dim light of the lamps. The door looked like the entrance to a treasury and nothing else, but behind it there was a wide staircase of two flights, with carved railings and finials in the form of folded wings of bats.
I even dared to touch one.
Having gone up to the second floor, we just as easily found ourselves in another room. It was almost no different from the previous one, but what is most striking is that we were greeted by the same Gray Lady with a face that did not express any emotions at all.
There were two options: either I had gone crazy, or my mother had gone crazy. However, it could not be ruled out that we had both been out of our minds for a long time.
Questions, questions, questions… Biting my tongue, I kept expecting that we would now meet with someone from the top of this mental hospital. With someone who will quickly and succinctly insert all the necessary information into my head, and then we will go on a new trip. Somewhere where the maniac who was pursuing us will definitely not get to.
But reality, as always, did not agree with the fantasies.
Silently nodding to the librarian, my mother took out a dagger with large red stones in the hilt from her jacket and suddenly turned to me. More precisely, to the door behind me, and therefore I had to actively step aside.
I watched, feeling confused, as she inserted the blade into the gap between the door and the floor. Repeating the outline of the doorway with its point, the mother straightened up and opened the door, turning the round gilded handle.
She let me go ahead.
I went down with caution. So far nothing has changed in the surroundings. The same staircase, the same walls and tops. Even the hall on the first floor is still the same. And the Gray Lady is the same. Stands there, doesn't blink.
Looking at my mother, I received a warm, indulgent smile. And it was a no-brainer that she knew something that I had no idea about yet. But the longer I had to wait for the explosion, the more terrible the pictures of my near future became.
And yet I was the first to go out onto the porch. She went out, looked around and almost counted the steps. The parent caught me by the shoulders literally at the last moment.
Her gaze again expressed understanding. She seemed to know how much confusion was in me now and what feelings and doubts were overwhelming me.
Now I was going down much slower. Firstly, because it finally dawned on me: instead of bright day, we were greeted by night. Secondly, the street was radically different from Ashwool Street. Instead of sprawling construction projects and brand new townhouses, there were long Victorian-style houses with white trim, carved corners and low railings around the balconies.
Two horses harnessed to a dark carriage rushed past us. Here and there there were passers-by who seemed to have stepped out of the pages of a history textbook or the frames of a pseudo-historical film.
“You will study here,” my mother said, as soon as we stopped at the gates of the academy, behind which stood a gloomy tall building with spiers and ugly gargoyles on the ledges.
“I’ve already graduated from school,” I reminded, forcing myself to stay in place by an effort of will.
It was simply unbearable to want to take even a couple of steps back.
– This is not a school, Sally. This is an academy for Midnighters.
Taking a large burgundy rectangular map from the inside pocket of her jacket, she placed it directly into the open mouth of the stone bat. The mouth instantly closed and opened with a click, leaving two impressive holes on the card. Then the gate next to the gate creaked open.
I was in no hurry to go inside.
“But you yourself said that I’m not like that.” What will I learn here then?
– Everything that I didn’t tell you about, because I recklessly believed that this side would never touch you. But she touched, which means you must be prepared for the fact that our world is not as simple as it seems at first glance. And he won’t find you here,” she was the first to go through the gate.
Without doubting for a moment, I immediately followed her, hoping to finally get an answer to the main question. Clenching my fingers into fists, I felt that the solution was already close.
– Who, mom? Who have we been hiding from all this time?
Silently continuing our way past the working fountain, on which stood an ugly stone gargoyle, she nevertheless responded dully, as soon as we reached the steps of the main building:
– From the Hunter.
But it didn’t become one gram clearer.
“Hey, you seem to be lost in thought,” Nirel touched my hand, pulling me out of recent memories.
Catching the attentive gaze of his green eyes, I directly and unvarnishedly blurted out what I knew about the Midnighters. There