The great clock tower fell silent once more.
The last echo of the ancient bell drifted across Highdon School before fading into the cool autumn air.
For a few moments, the entire school seemed to be holding its breath.
Even the autumn leaves stopped rustling.
Peter carefully slipped the carved wooden disc into his satchel.
He fastened the buckle tightly.
“Miss Ashcombe said there are four pieces.”
David nodded.
“If this is one of them, where are the other three?”
Miss Blyton gently rolled up the ancient parchment.
“I believe the previous Keepers hid them.”
“So nobody could ever gather all four together,” Simon said quietly.
Andrew looked towards the dark edge of Ashcombe Wood where the hooded figure had disappeared.
“Except someone is trying to find them.”
Nobody argued.
Far above them, twelve ravens circled the old clock tower before disappearing into the clouds.
Miss Blyton looked upwards.
“They always appear when old magick begins to wake.”
The afternoon lessons passed slowly.
Mrs Fenwick taught mathematics.
Miss Cartwright took geography.
Mrs Bellamy supervised afternoon prep.
Normally the boys would have been thinking about homework or rugby.
Instead, every one of them was thinking about the wooden token.
Peter kept remembering the strange glow that had surrounded it.
Simon wondered what might happen if all four pieces were ever joined together.
David could still feel the warmth of Miss Ashcombe’s enchanted lantern.
Andrew found himself staring out of the classroom window towards the woods instead of listening to rivers and mountains.
Even Mrs Fenwick noticed.
“You four seem unusually distracted today.”
Nobody answered.
The old teacher simply smiled.
“Highdon has a habit of doing that.”
As evening arrived, the boys met beneath the great cedar tree.
The enormous branches stretched above them like the roof of a cathedral.
The ravens had gone.
Only a handful of glossy black feathers lay scattered across the grass.
David took the brass compass from his pocket.
The needle spun wildly.
Once…
Twice…
Three times…
Then it became still.
It pointed towards the oldest building in the entire school.
The library.
As they walked across the silent quadrangle, Peter noticed something strange.
For just a moment…
Figures seemed to be walking beside them.
Women dressed in black gowns from many decades before.
Some carried books.
Some held bunches of old-fashioned school keys.
One elderly headmistress carried a long, polished cane beneath her arm.
Another quietly held a black rubber-soled gym slipper that had once been used to punish naughty boys.
The ghostly teachers walked silently through the mist before slowly fading away.
“They’re watching us,” whispered Simon.
Miss Blyton nodded calmly.
“The old Keepers often said that every headmistress who truly loved Highdon never really left.”
“They still protect the school.”
“And they still expect good behaviour.”
Almost as though she had heard them, one of the ghostly headmistresses paused beside an old oak doorway.
She smiled kindly.
Then she lightly tapped her cane against the stone floor.
The sound echoed softly through the corridor before she vanished.
David swallowed.
“I don’t think they’re frightening.”
“No,” replied Miss Blyton.
“I think they’re guarding something.”
Inside the library, several enormous books already lay open upon the oak table.
Candles burned without melting.
Blue flames flickered inside the fireplace even though no logs had been lit.
The room smelled of beeswax, old leather and herbs.
Bundles of dried rosemary, rowan, sage and mugwort hung from the ceiling beams.
Protective symbols had been carved into the ancient shelves hundreds of years before.
Miss Blyton smiled.
“I’ve found something.”
She pushed a thick history book towards them.
It had been written nearly eighty years earlier.
Inside was a beautifully drawn sketch of Highdon’s original school crest.
Peter frowned.
“That isn’t the crest we have today.”
“No.”
Miss Blyton smiled.
“It was changed after the First World War.”
David leaned closer.
The crest showed four symbols surrounding a glowing lantern.
A raven.
An oak leaf.
A brass key.
And…
A carved wooden disc.
“That’s exactly what we’ve found,” Simon whispered.
Miss Blyton nodded.
“It isn’t simply a carving.”
“It formed part of Highdon’s oldest magical crest.”
She carefully turned another page.
Beneath the drawing appeared faded handwriting.
The writing belonged to Miss Ashcombe herself.
The Four Tokens shall remain apart until the next Circle of Keepers is complete. Let no pupil seek them without courage, wisdom, kindness and discipline.
Andrew read the words twice.
“So every symbol is one of the Four Tokens?”
“It certainly appears so.”
Peter slowly placed the wooden disc upon the page.
The moment it touched the paper…
The entire room changed.
The lantern upon the drawing burst into warm golden light.
The raven shimmered silver.
The oak leaf glowed emerald green.
The key sparkled like polished brass.
Ancient runes appeared around the edge of the page.
The candles suddenly burned brighter.
Outside, every raven cried together.
A cool wind swept through the library even though every window remained closed.
Then…
From somewhere beyond the bookshelves…
Came the unmistakable sound…
Tap…
Tap…
Tap…
A cane striking polished wooden floorboards.
The boys turned.
Standing between the shelves were several transparent figures.
Old teachers.
Long-forgotten mistresses.
Former headmistresses of Highdon.
Some carried books.
Some held lanterns.
Several carried the famous supple school canes for which Highdon had once been known.
Others quietly held black and red rubber-soled slippers beneath one arm.
Their expressions were neither angry nor cruel.
Instead they watched the boys with calm approval, like teachers satisfied that their pupils had shown honesty and courage.
One elderly headmistress slowly inclined her head.
“The Keepers return,” she whispered.
Her voice sounded no louder than rustling autumn leaves.
Then every ghost disappeared together.
The library became silent once more.
Before anyone could speak…
There came a gentle knock upon the door.
Mrs Bellamy entered carrying a tray of steaming hot chocolate.
“I thought you boys might appreciate this.”
She smiled warmly.
“You’ve been helping Miss Blyton with her research.”
Peter smiled.
“Thank you.”
Mrs Bellamy noticed the history book.
“My goodness.”
“I haven’t seen that since I first arrived here.”
“You’ve worked here a long time?” Simon asked.
She laughed softly.
“Long enough.”
“My grandmother worked here before me.”
David looked surprised.
“Really?”
Mrs Bellamy nodded.
“She often spoke of the old headmistresses.”
“Their portraits would sometimes smile.”
“Their footsteps could be heard after dark.”
“She always said that if you heard a cane gently tapping the corridor, or caught sight of an old rubber-soled slipper outside an empty classroom, you were expected to remember your manners.”
“And if the ravens gathered before Michaelmas…”
She paused.
“…then powerful magick was once again awake within Highdon.”
She smiled mysteriously before leaving.
The boys watched the door quietly close.
Peter looked at Miss Blyton.
“Do you think Mrs Bellamy knows the truth?”
Miss Blyton smiled.
“I think she knows rather more than she ever says.”
That night David sat beside the dormitory window.
The moon hung low above the chapel.
Mist drifted gently across the playing fields.
Then he saw movement.
Not the hooded figure.
Someone much smaller.
A little girl.
She wore a school uniform from nearly a century before.
In one hand she carried a tiny lantern.
In the other she held a sprig of rowan tied with green ribbon.
She smiled kindly towards David.
Behind her, for only a second, stood the ghostly figures of several former teachers and two old headmistresses.
One rested both hands upon a polished cane.
Another quietly carried a black rubber-soled slipper beneath her arm, more as a symbol of the school’s long history of discipline than as a threat.
They all seemed to be protecting the little girl.
She raised one finger to her lips.
“Silence.”
Her lantern flashed once.
Green sparks drifted upwards into the night.
The ghosts faded into silver mist.
Then she disappeared.
The following morning the four boys hurried back to the cedar tree.
Exactly where the little girl had stood…
Something lay upon the grass.
It was another wooden token.
This one had been beautifully carved with a perfect oak leaf.
As Peter picked it up, the leaves above them rustled although there was no wind.
Somewhere beyond the chapel…
A raven called once.
Far away, almost too faint to hear, came the gentle tap…tap…tap… of a cane upon an old stone corridor.
Two of the Four Tokens had now been found.
Two still remained hidden somewhere within Highdon School, beneath its ancient buildings, or deep inside the enchanted woods where the ghosts of former teachers, wise headmistresses and the old Keepers continued their silent watch over the school and its ancient magick.
