The Oakhurst School of Magic is going places. They’re applying for accreditation as an official institute of Pure Magic, and this will attract more students.
But in amongst preparations for the visiting accreditation committee, Mrs. Marsh’s rabbit goes missing and Veronica gets roped into trying to find it.
Why does a wayward rabbit matter?
Well, it’s a magical rabbit, and you can’t have magic running loose in the school grounds if you want to impress the committee.
Scratch that, it’s a clockwork rabbit and it symbolises everything Pure Magic is not, everything Mrs. Marsh and a couple of other teachers stand for. The one rabbit stands for a deep division in the school community.
The school’s reputation, Veronica’s job and the harmony of the Oakhurst village are on the line. How can Veronica make sure no one is harmed, not even a clockwork rabbit?
Snippet from the book:
Veronica was so focused on the scene across the street that she didn’t notice the creaking of the door behind her until it swung open. Mr. Merewether, the shopkeeper, had turned off the lights and closed the door to his shop.
He stepped out onto the porch and stopped.
He stood there and waited, lighting his pipe. The soft glow of the pipe’s ember lit his face from below. After a few moments, he exhaled a curl of smoke into the night air and nodded at the eating house across the street.
“Quite the gathering, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is,” she replied, keeping her voice low. She wondered how much he knew about who these people were and what they were doing here.
“I saw them arrive this morning—the accreditation committee. Here to force the school into their narrow idea of what magic is and should be like.”
He clearly had his opinion on the matter.
“I didn’t expect to see them all together like this.”
She’d expected to see the group turn up at school, being led through the corridors to view the facilities, maybe poke their heads into the library or the potions class if they wanted to see magic being taught in a spectacular, messy way.
Mr. Merewether nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving the scene across the street. “It’s been coming for a while now,” he said, puffing on his pipe. “Power, influence… Those sorts have a way of creeping into places they don’t belong. And they’ve had their eye on the school for a long time.”
Veronica frowned, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “The school applied for accreditation. They’ve always been about fostering magical talent, about giving everyone a chance to learn, no matter where they come from.”
Mr. Merewether gave a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “It’s not about education to this lot. Not anymore. These city folk see the school as a means to an end. You’ve got powerful families wanting to push their own agenda, use the school to gain control of the magical world. They want to keep out the machines, because the machines are bad. But no, they’re not, or at least not all of them. They can do a lot of good to common people, non-magical things like planting fields and sewing. But they can also be used for ill. But who is going to know about those things if you refuse to teach them?”
Veronica’s stomach churned. This was about the rabbit, but also about something much bigger. The rabbit had to be expunged from the school because of the accreditation and because of the accreditation, the school could get more money.
“And this lavish dinner? What’s that about?”
Mr. Merewether shrugged, tapping the ash from his pipe. “Bribery, plain and simple. They want to ensure the committee gives a glowing report to facilitate the school’s accreditation. A good review, and the principal, along with those families, can push for changes—changes that favour the enrolment of wealthy students from the city. More spots for the elite, fewer for the village kids. They’ll say it’s to improve the school, make it more competitive, but it’s really about locking out the common folk and any opinions they don’t like.”
Veronica clenched her fists. “That can’t happen. The school is supposed to serve everyone, not just those with money.”
“Aye,” Mr. Merewether agreed. “These people have too much money.”
“The school doesn’t.” Which was probably why they were doing this.
“Yes, it does. If it can throw it around like this. They should be giving it to students in scholarships to get students who wouldn’t normally come to the school to attend to broaden the view about magic.”
“I attended on one of those scholarships,” Veronica said. Although it had not covered all the costs and she also knew that not as many scholarships were given now than back when she started. And let’s be honest, without that small scholarship, she would never have attended and she would never even have considered going to the Academy, even if her parents had paid for all of that.
“Did you, really?” Mr. Merewether turned to her, holding his pipe to the side, so the smoke didn’t drift in her face. “Then, I would say, Miss, do what you were recruited to do.”
