71
Headmaster Miles Kendrickburn was having a long day.
The small man usually let himself be led by his humor. But lately, that was becoming a challenge. It had started with the death of the Paddstone boy. Something he still had a lot of questions about.
He sat in his chair in the meeting room.
Around him, the teachers had gathered.
Mistress Vizzingbelle was drinking tea. Master Finklestern looked like he’d been drinking something stronger the night before. He looked like a crumpled mess slumped next to her.
Master Barrowclough was at Kendrickburn’s right. Beside him, Master Garmstooth picked at his nails with a toothpick while Master Barrowclough tried not to tut his disgust.
“We’ll start today with the Farringhams,” the Headmaster decided.
“Do we have to?” Master Finklestern groaned. “That girl is a menace.”
Master Garmstooth looked surprised. “She comes to your classes, too?”
“All the time,” he said. “She doesn’t stop asking questions.”
“Questions are how they learn,” Master Haddrow said.
“You say that because she’s not in your classes.”
“She’s a bit inquisitive,” Master Garmstooth admitted.
“Whatever she is,” the Headmaster said, cutting through them.
“She is about to be more irritating. Her annoying little crew of bodyguards is about to increase. Miss Vizzingbelle has requested another of her family’s mages to be present after she experienced an undisclosed incident.
She claims it is vital to her safety. I had rejected her request, but the Mage Council overturned my rejection. Thus, a mage will be sent.”
“What’s one more?” Master Haddrow asked, not seeing the problem.
“The mage will be rated ten.”
“A ten?” Master Garmstooth sucked air between his teeth. “Who did she upset? You?”
The Headmaster shook his head. “It is undisclosed.” He glanced out through the window. It was raining. “I protested the Court’s decision. In my view, we’re asking for a repeat of the Paddstone event.”
“You think she wants to access the Vault, too?”
“What’s with students these days?” Master Finklestern sighed. “When I was a lad, we’d never consider such foolishness.”
“In any case, be alert,” the Headmaster said. “But let’s not push the mage around too much.”
Mistress Vizzingbelle simply smiled as the Headmaster’s gaze fell on her.
“Next point is the rooms situation,” the Headmaster said. “The Tinkers have advised, formally, that they’ve noticed a startling lack of movement from the upper levels. But that the lower levels have been shifting around quite dramatically.”
“They’ve made it formal?” Master Barrowclough lifted his eyebrows at that one. It had been almost a century since they’d considered anything worth raising in a formal way.
“They’re concerned,” the Headmaster admitted. “Which makes me concerned.”
Master Haddrow looked to the ceiling nervously. “They don’t think there’s a chance of a Reset Event, do they?”
“Hmm.” The Headmaster tapped his finger on the table thoughtfully. While the Tinkers hadn’t gone that far, he could read between the lines.
Almost two hundred years before, the Academy’s internal defenses had suddenly and inexplicably reset all the traps. Which had resulted in the deaths of almost a hundred students and teachers until the Mage Court could send more people to help the Tinkers deal with the issue.
If that happened again, it would be a mess.
Especially given what else was happening in the world.
He shook his head and couldn’t help but to look at the ceiling himself. “I don’t think so. While their report leaves that open to speculation, they don’t say as much. The previous Reset was preceded by other events such as the water pipes shutting off.”
“So, if the water shuts off, we can run away?”
“If you like,” the Headmaster said drily. “I know I would. Whatever it’s doing to itself, the Tinkers thought it best to keep a very close eye on any further changes. Report any strange occurrences, no matter how small or insignificant they may be.”
“Doing it to itself?” Master Finklestern shuddered as he echoed the Headmaster’s words. “You make it sound alive, Miles.”
The Headmaster stared at him for a moment, then looked down at the little note he’d written his meeting points on.
“Possibly related,” he said with a twitch of his lips.
“Some of the students are reporting ghosts again. The Tinkers have asked that we send out a statement telling them that ghosts are not real and what they’re hearing is most likely changes of pressure and temperature in the pipes. They’re old pipes.”
“I’m not sure about that,” Master Haddrow said. “I heard something, once. It sounded more like rats.”
“There are no rats in the Academy,” Master Barrowclough reminded him. “The wards keep any pests out of the structure.”
“I’m just telling you what I heard.”
“Could it be related to the rooms?” Master Garmstooth asked. “If there’s more movement in the lower levels, that could be vibrating the pipes.”
“The Tinkers are investigating,” the Headmaster said. “Until they have something more, let’s remind students that ghosts aren’t real.”
“I’ll give something to Miss Darrowfern,” Mistress Vizzingbelle said. “She can also pin something up in the Common Room.”
“Good idea. I’ll leave that to you, then.
” The Headmaster looked down again as the other teacher gave him a nod before sipping her tea.
“Finally. The elephant in the room. The Paddstones have officially protested to the Mage Court. The Court will convene some time in the next few days to hear their protest.”
“They can’t be serious,” Master Haddrow scoffed. “Why is the Court even tolerating this? That wretched family stole the Leveler. We should be going and getting the blasted thing back!”
“Fallon has advised his family knew nothing about any attempt by Fergus to access the Vault,” the Headmaster said firmly. “The Court has accepted his version of events. And it has since been claimed that young Fulka Fenrickson was the true mastermind.”
“Ridiculous,” Master Finklestern snorted. “Anyone could see she was his little slave.”
“Appearances may be deceiving,” Mistress Vizzingbelle countered.
“Whatever the case may be,” the Headmaster continued. “The investigation is with the Court.”
“They want the Mooney boy,” Master Garmstooth said tightly. “That’s what this is about. Paddstone wants his hands on him.”
“That’s part of it,” the Headmaster admitted. “They’ve demanded we hand over young Milo to them so they can investigate and get justice for the death of young Fergus.”
“Justice?” Master Finklestern barked a laugh that made him wince and clutch his aching hungover head straight away. “What about justice for the guards Fergus slaughtered on his way into the Vault?”
“I can’t see the Court giving in to his demands,” Master Garmstooth said. “If they did, it would set a very awkward precedent. They’d have to be mad to hand him over. No. I can’t see them doing it.”
“Whatever they do, it is for the Republic,” the Headmaster said with a wry smile. “In any case, it is out of our hands. I bring this up for a second point to that, which is the younger brother of Fergus, Padrick, is due to arrive soon.”
“What?” Master Haddrow blinked at the news. “They’re going to send him?”
“Yes.”
“To hunt Milo,” Master Garmstooth sighed. “If they can’t get him formally, they’ll do it informally.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Master Haddrow growled.
“Ridiculous or not, that’s the situation,” the Headmaster said.
He felt an itchiness in his back. He’d often felt it in this room when talking about important matters.
But the wards he’d placed ensured no one was scrying into the room to see what they were talking about.
Still. He felt itchy. “I want to say we can stop it, but we can’t.
The Mage Court again advised my opinion wasn’t important. ”
“Blasted fools,” Master Garmstooth said. “What will happen if Padrick attempts to kill Milo and is killed himself? What then?”
The Headmaster’s look was heavy. “That would be most troublesome for us all.”
“Maybe we should speak to him,” Mistress Vizzingbelle said calmly.
Master Finklestern lifted his bleary gaze. “Has anyone even seen him? I haven’t. Selma comes to my classes, but only when she wants to spar against Belt.”
“His newest team member is in mine,” Master Haddrow grunted. “She’s a little better than average.”
“But no one has seen Milo?” The Headmaster searched their faces as they shook their heads.
“Then, let’s speak to Ket about that, too.
See if we can pin the little brat down somewhere and imprint into his soul how important it is that he leave the Paddstone rat alone.
I’ll also have a chat with young Padrick when he arrives.
See if he has any more sense than the rest of his family. ”
Master Barrowclough pursed his lips. “Do you think Milo would kill him?”
“He killed Fergus,” Master Garmstooth pointed out. “What’s one more Paddstone to him?”
“Yes, but that was different.”
“Was it?” Mistress Vizzingbelle sipped her tea. “The boy is clearly independent and highly adaptable. He has a deeply analytical mind. Fergus was correct about one thing. It is very strange how easily Milo and his team traverse the dungeons.”
Master Garmstooth nodded. “I wish we could see into the dungeons. I’d give anything to see how he really does it.”
“Regardless of how he does it, I’m of the opinion such things should be encouraged.” The Headmaster offered one of his smiles. “We need some fresh ideas now and then.”
“Fresh ideas can also be very dangerous,” Mistress Vizzingbelle said.
“That’s why they should be encouraged,” the Headmaster said, his eyes glittering. “Only a fool would try to tame a dragon with collars and chains. Feed it. Don’t fight it.”
“And when it gets out of control?”
The Headmaster grinned broadly. “Then you get down on your knees and beg its forgiveness and hope for the best.”
“He’s only rated one, Miles,” Master Finklestern reminded him.
“Yet he has proven to us all that he’s not the mouse in this house,” the Headmaster hummed, sounding more like his slightly deranged self. “Let’s all respect the power of his squeak and try to work around it for now.”
Master Barrowclough lifted his eyebrows again. “That’s your formal instruction? Let the boy be?”
“Heavens, no,” the Headmaster said. “My formal instruction is to treat him like any other student. Whip knowledge into his little brain with a big stick! Let him know who is boss. Just because he managed to somehow manipulate events to kill off his rival and walk away unscathed, and possibly with the world’s most powerful core, shouldn’t be any cause for alarm. Should it?”
“Ah. I understand now.”