Chapter Seven
“Mister Thistlewood, please remain after class.” Master Arel spoke in his typical soft, airy voice.
I glanced at Sephimara, who flashed a nod in goodbye, her lips pressed in a thin smile. Pain? Regret? Sadness?
I had no guesses what the mage faculty adviser wanted with me, nothing in his gaze or tone gave the slightest hint, but a sinking feeling in my gut told me it wouldn’t be to inform me I’d been gifted a subscription to Caerwick Confectioners pastry of the month club.
The classroom door thunked shut with finality as the last student exited.
“How may I be of assistance, Master Arel.” A nice rhubarb tart wouldn’t be amiss.
He stared at me a long moment before picking up a paper from the black marble surface of his desk.
Yup. Definitely not pastry related.
“There has been another complaint against you, Mister Thistlewood.”
I’d heard nothing further from House Greanderal since the first week and thought the matter was closed.
“What am I alleged to have done?” I left off the ‘this time.’
“Theft. The city and this institution strive to maintain a safe, orderly environment, and therefore takes such accusations most seriously.”
I fought the urge to clench my fists, instead breathing slow, measured breaths. “No one from House Greanderal attends the academy, their palace is a considerable distance, and presumably well-guarded.”
“Indeed it is.” Master Arel raised an eyebrow.
“How and when am I supposed to have stolen something from them?”
“The complaint is from a fellow student, Aldyr Balmenor. He apparently demanded to search your room in the dormitory.”
That guy.
Breathe. Slow, controlled breaths.
“As a fellow student, his rights, and the weight of his complaint is rather different than a non-student, regardless of how powerful their house may be.”
Yoi had mentioned a connection the other night. But what did they want? I was literally a nobody in elven society.
“Fine. What am I alleged to have stolen from him?”
“That is why we are discussing the matter, Mister Thistlewood. He refused to say, only stating that it was a highly personal item.”
Oh, that’s convenient. And denies me even the slightest clue what’s really going on.
That lousy lump of lindworm leavings. I could just see myself pounding his smug face the next time I saw him.
And getting expelled shortly thereafter.
Slow breaths.
“I value my position here at the academy, and would gladly consent to yourself or another academy official inspecting my dormitory room to allay any concerns. I have nothing to hide.”
Master Arel stood, strode softly to the window, and gazed out. “Therein lies the conundrum, Mister Thistlewood. If Aldyr Balmenor is unwilling to provide us with the item’s description, we are not able to search for it, are we now?”
With his back to me, I granted myself a moment of fist clenching.
How could I get myself out of this? I had nothing illegal.
Of course with access to my room, Aldyr would have the opportunity to plant something.
But shouting my innocence wasn’t very elven, and probably wouldn’t be effective.
I had to prove I could do this the elf way.
Years of back and forth with my brother. There had to be a way.
“Do you feel it is reasonable for another student to be allowed to search my possessions, based solely on his accusation?” I finally asked.
He turned, paused, and flashed the briefest smile. “I do not.”
We stared at each other in silence for what had to be half a minute.
“I am inclined to believe that he is a malcontent, one of many who disapprove of the mage specialization. Yet wealth and influence cannot be ignored. His demand will be declined for the time being. But I suggest you not antagonize him or House Greanderal any further.”
“I thank you Master Arel. I strive to represent this academy with pride.”
The bell sounded.
And now I’d be late for the next class.
? ? ?
I escaped geomagic with only a single disapproving glare from the instructor for my tardiness, lingering to apologize as the other students left. I didn’t mention the conversation with Master Arel. That would have been making excuses.
As I strode down the hall, physical training enticed me more than usual today. Could I gift myself a few extra minutes? And perhaps paint a certain elven face on one of the training dummies? As I passed the lobby, an elevated voice caught my ear. Aldyr.
“Those in the good favor of House Greanderal are fortunate indeed.” His voice echoed through the stone surfaces of the curved lobby. I’d have been embarrassed to speak at that volume.
He and his cohorts had their backs to me, and I intended to keep it that way. Master Arel’s warning loomed fresh in my mind.
Rain pattered on the glass wall facing the street, where streetlights barely cut through the stormy gloom.
“I am certain his coach was delayed by weather, but in the meantime—”
My gaze locked with Sephimara’s, who I now saw had been backed against the outer wall by the trio. I froze.
Her stern gaze made it clear she wasn’t enjoying the conversation.
I did not need more trouble with these guys. Sephimara was confident in a literal life and death situation aboard a sinking clipper. She did not need my help here.
Yet the weariness in her eyes, the clench of her jaw, her posture… I knew too well what it was like being chipped at.
Blasted bark beetles!
“Lady Arazniros, do you require any assistance?” My voice carried uncomfortably in the lobby despite the din of rain.
The trio spun to glare at me.
“This is a private conversation among nobles,” said Aldyr.
“Assistance? What are you implying?” said one of the others.
Screw it. No point half-felling a tree. I stepped closer. “Transportation. Nothing more. I was curious if there was an issue with the city streetcars.”
“Are you suggesting that the lady walk several blocks in the rain to the closest stop?” said Aldyr.
“This is why it is pointless to discuss such things with commoners,” said one of the others.
“No sense of decorum,” added the third.
The tight line of Sephimara’s lips curled slightly upward. “Your concern is unwarranted, Mister Thistlewood. I am expecting a coach any minute now.”
I gazed into her green eyes the briefest moment. Tipped my head.
You’re not alone, Sephimara. Please know that I’m here if you need me.
Finally gesturing a quick bow, I continued, “Then I shall not disrupt you further.”
Her smile quirked up at one side. “Actually. These gentlemen have reminded me that I could use your assistance.”
All three spun to face her.
“Carrying my bag. To leave my hands free for my umbrella.” She pushed between two of them with the subtlety of a splitting wedge and handed me a leather messenger bag.
“As you pointed out, such a thing is hardly the province of nobility such as yourselves, and Mister Thistlewood is the only commoner about. Good day to you.” The tone with which she sliced off the ends of her words made it clear that further words between them were unwished.
I fell in beside her, holding the door as she opened her umbrella, though an overhang shielded us from all but the damp gusts.
We stood at the edge of the overhang for half a minute, her rigidly holding a superfluous umbrella over both of us.
“I may only be a commoner, but I couldn’t help but notice that your bag has a shoulder strap.”
She tipped her head, expression masked in the dim light. “Does it? How silly of me to have forgotten such a thing.”
Another half minute of silence between us was broken by the clack of reptilian claws as her coach pulled up.
I handed her the bag.
“You are correct, Mister Thistlewood, I can manage my bag and umbrella together.” She stepped toward the open door, turning back to me as she was halfway in. “I did not require your assistance, Mister Thistlewood.” Her smile broadened, voice dropping to a whisper. “But it was appreciated.”