The smell of garlic, celery, and lavender soap clung to her mom’s shirt. Sylvie inhaled deeply. She hadn’t realized how much she loved this smell. It reminded her of home.
“I love you, too, Mom. Be careful. Okay?”
“Always,” said her mom, though not as confidently as Sylvie would have liked. “Just remember, Sylvie. As long as you’re safe, I’ll be fine too. And no matter what happens, I’msoproud of you.”
Kitty cleared her throat. “I hate to break this up, but my pies have been waiting long enough.”
“Right.” Sylvie’s mom finally let go. “I’ll see you in six weeks.”
Sylvie nodded. “Good luck at the Golden Whisk. I’ll be watching.” She followed Kitty up the garden path and didn’t look back. Her eyes turned prickly. Sylvie steeled her gaze. She wasn’t going to cry.Not in front of a teacher.
“We’ll have orientation tomorrow morning after breakfast,” said Kitty. “But I’ll go over the basics now.”
Sylvie nodded, trying to hide the emotions crashing over her in waves.
“Pip dorms are on the south side of the garden. You’d be wise to stay on this path to access them.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” Sylvie squeezed past several crookneck squash the size of hay bales.
The moon was now casting its glow across the open field. Cloudberries and gooseberries glistened in the soil like colorful shards of sea glass.
A slithering gourd, fat as a python, twisted across the path. Sylvie tried to step over it. A vine wrapped around her ankle.
“Hey!” She tried to kick it loose, but it tightened its grip.
Kitty whipped around, pulling out a seven-inch onyx Blade with cat eyes of various shapes and colors embossed across the silver handle.
Thwack!
The vine went slack.
Kitty kicked the twitching tendril away. “You all right?”
“Fine,” said Sylvie, trying not to sound too rattled.
“Plants over here tend to be the most docile.” Kitty tucked her knife back into her cardigan. “Except for the snake gourds. They get a bit territorial if you come too close.”
“I read that snake gourds like sugar water,” said Sylvie. She wanted Kitty to know she could be a great student too. “Apparently, it takes away their bitterness.”
“Correct!” said Kitty, looking rather impressed. “Their mood should improve tomorrow morning, once they’ve been watered.” She pointed toward a terraced hillside. “Over there is the cafeteria. It’s the only spot on campus where Pips and Sages are able to mingle freely. Breakfast is served every morning at eight.”
“Great,” said Sylvie, scanning the ground as they trudged ahead.
An enormous stone building suddenly caught her eye. Even from a distance, Sylvie could see two grand towers jutting out of the center like ancient sentinels. Thick patches of ivy twisted across them like ornate pieces of chain mail. Windows that looked two stories tall glowed as brightly as the moon.
There it was: Brindille, stretching toward the sky like a grand castle. It was even more magnificent than the pictures she’d seen.
“Does Brindille really house threemilliongallons of potions and elixirs?” asked Sylvie, as she stared.
“Yes,” said Kitty. “It’s also home to twelve botany labs, a spice island, five acres of gardens and forest, plus fifteen thousand feet of teaching kitchens.”
“And the Long Hall … Brindille’s famous library, with the largest collection of cookbooks in the world,” added Sylvie. A thought was coming to her.
Kitty nodded. “It is. In fact, that’s where your orientation will begin tomorrow.”
“Really?” Sylvie decided to press Kitty for more information. “Will we learn anything about Escoffier?”
Kitty shrugged. “We have a few of his cookbooks in our library’s collection.”
