This could be the result of the absolutely disgusting behavior Mr. Moss showed during the debate. Or this could be caused by some particularly murky reasoning behind the projects Mr. Moss is proposing. We’re sure quite a few eyebrows have been raised by the direction Mr. Moss’s politics have suddenly taken after months of being absolutely benign and middle-of-the-road. To Ms. Allende’s credit, she has always been constant in her politics and her pursuits.
We hope the residents of Crow’s Nest cast their vote for Ms. Allende in two weeks time.
—Crow’s Caw
The linefrom theCawstuck in her mind well past breakfast.
“Constant in her pursuits.”
The newspaper’s first-ever political endorsement had caused tremendous upheaval. TheCawhad never before come out this openly in favor of a candidate running for any office on the island. It had written articles with subtle knocks, as Mayor Fowler had endured during his last months in office, but the island’s one and only local source of media had never published the wordsvote forbefore.
That had been a very pleasant surprise. A vote of confidence from the newspaper that both vexed the locals and drew a huge readership. Natives of Dragons, by all accounts, kept their subscriptions even after they had departed the shores of the island. The Crowharts might have occasionally called it yellow, but even they had always renewed their subscriptions. All five of them. So, all in all, Paloma should’ve been pleased. Proud. And she would’ve been, except for that one little line.
Four words, and she kept replaying them since she had set eyes on the paper. What did they mean? Her pursuit of the office? Her pursuit of her business interests on the island? Her pursuit of… Surely, theCawwas not at the level of sensationalism to bring Deryn into the mix?
She blinked and wondered why she was digging a grave when there was no dead body. Why was she overthinking this as badly as she was? Because the levels of reach she was undertaking were quite spectacular. One deep breath, then another. She counted to ten and lifted her eyes, pushing her strange and unwelcome thoughts aside. What some newspaper thought about the appearance of her relationship with Deryn—which she herself had orchestrated—was irrelevant.
She was definitely reading too much into those four damned words.
Paloma bit the inside of her cheek and focused. When she finally pushed aside all the noise in her head, she looked around her office with a touch of disbelief. The entire Crowhart clan and Magdalene Nox were being made comfortable with Lachlan’s help. Coffee, tea, snacks, and other refreshments had been distributed, and small talk had been endeavored. Chiefly by Victoria and the Headmistress, who chatted away about the Headmistress’s mother, of all people. Paloma heard a distinct note of curiosity in Victoria’s questions—a very, very particular one. One that could only be interpreted in a certain way. She wondered why it had not occurred to her before that the oldest Crowhart could be queer.
“Well, if you could please tell your mother that I am sending her my warmest compliments.” Victoria’s voice lowered an octave, and next to her, Deryn, her hair sticking up comically and endearingly above the bandages wrapping her head, made gagging noises.
“Aunty, I really don’t want to know any of this. And I will bet money that Headmistress Nox wants to hear about you and her mother even less.”
To her credit, Nox pursed her lips and chose to look away instead of chiming in as Victoria waved her hand dismissively at Deryn.
“You should mind your business, baby Crow. Maybe if you’d minded it better, you’d have a real girlfriend right now.”
Everyone laughed. The Headmistress shot Paloma a questioning gaze. Paloma shook her head subtly. It wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have in a room full of Crowharts anyway.
“Now that everyone is here, it’s time to lay some cards on the table.” Paloma addressed the room, feeling that enough small talk had been dispensed. “Headmistress Nox has provided me with documents that indicate that the Rathcross Foundation is the entity behind the Moss campaign and specifically behind his plans to build the Museum of History and Faith in Crow’s Nest.”
There were murmurs and gasps from the family. Rhiannon was the first to find her voice. “The Rathcross Foundation? Really? Isn’t Dragons a little too small for them? They’re more of a ‘Let’s gerrymander the entire state of North Carolina’ kind of corporation.”
Magdalene put a folder on Paloma’s desk and looked at Rhiannon. “You’d be surprised what pies that family has their fingers in. This is not a complete overview of their involvement in Moss’s campaign, and I can’t ascertain how deep it really goes. But to give you a tiny window into what is or isn’t too small for them, there was a Rathcross proxy on the Dragons Board until not too long ago. The name Roswell probably means nothing to you, but he sat on the Board until he passed away a few years ago. Well, Roswell’s mother was a Rathcross.”
More gasps followed, and Victoria reached for the cookies Lachlan had brought earlier with their coffees.
Magdalene lifted a shoulder gracefully. “Maude Roswell, née Rathcross. There were very few women on the Dragons Board in the last century, but ole Maud sat on the Board for fifty years before her son took her place. Before Maud, there was her father, Damian Rathcross. The Dragons records are impeccable, so I had no trouble tracing the family’s involvement directly to the establishment of the school. Dagmar Rathcross was one of the first particularly active trustees. In fact, she was so active, she was appointed as the very first Headmistress when the school opened.”
Paloma felt her stomach flip at the revelations. “There are interesting documents with her name on them. You know Dragons started specifically as a school for girls, and the intentions behind the school’s existence have always been warring ones. Freedom, independence, education for women, and eventual equality. And submission, docility, and subserviency to the patriarchy.”
Magdalene picked up her coffee mug but then set it down and just looked at it, her thoughts seemingly miles away.
“Dagmar won most of those battles. The school was founded in 1810, and the first Charter has her fingerprints all over it. And those are some ugly fingerprints, even for that time. That Charter is…grim, to say the least. Very conservative.”
Victoria sniffed. “There’s a reason why no Crowhart ever studied at Dragons. No offense, Headmistress.”
“None taken. It’s ironic that Crowharts also didn’t take part in the governance of the school, despite being one of the most influential families on the island. Despite being on the island since the very beginning…”
Magdalene let the sentence dangle, and Paloma gave the Headmistress points for sneakiness. And diplomacy. She didn’tinsinuate anything and didn’t imply much. The question, however, was right there in her own words.
Ceridwen coughed politely before speaking. “While I don’t know the reason why Crowharts always stayed away from the school, I assume that we will find answers in the family bible Rhiannon is restoring. From what I remember, my grandmother never spoke positively about Dragons. She was gone by the time Headmistress Fenway took over, and reforms began being implemented.”
“It’s ironic that several island families were on that first Board of Dragons, among them the Fowlers and McMonses and Astors. The Rathcrosses weren’t the only mainlanders, but they always stood out. Rich, powerful. In any case, Rhiannon, I don’t believe for an instant that anything is ‘too small’ for them. For some reason, Dragons Island is of interest and has always been, judging by the way Dagmar built and took over the school. Dragons was nothing but a minuscule drop of land, insignificant in terms of resources, its town barely bigger than a village.”
“And yet the Rathcrosses found it important.” Deryn lifted her head from her phone. “I just googled them, since you all seem to know who they are, but I have never heard of them. So, they’re a ‘values’ think tank and ‘charity’ foundation with ties to Salem.”
