The Woodward Academy,

Chapter 12: May

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"You won't mind being covered, will you?" David asked Bispy. The two of them were on their way to a small meeting room in Beckett Hall, where Mr. Garibaldi was planning to interrogate Cherise. He had borrowed Bispy because he had a plan. Jailla was not coming along, as he was a bit miffed about David consorting with another familiar.

"Just so I can poke my nose out to breathe free air," Bispy replied.

"Okay."

The two made their way into Beckett Hall, and found Mr. Garibaldi.

"Hey... uh, that's not your familiar," Garibaldi said.

"No, but he might help us convince Cherise to talk. What else did you find out about her?"

"You'll be in there for it all. Try not to say too much, David. There will be a recording device in there, and I don't know how my boss is going to feel about you 'interfering' in an official investigation. And don't mention the device to her. We always use them, but people seem to talk much more freely when they forget the thing is in the room, so we disguise it, and don't mention it."

"Gotcha. Where is it?"

Garibaldi walked him into the room, and pointed it out to him. It looked like a book, hidden among other books, sitting on a shelf. It even had an innocuous cover.

"Where do you plan on her sitting?" David asked. Garibaldi pointed to the chair. He said, "Okay... Bispy, if you would, can you lie down here, with your nose facing away from where she'll be?"

"Why do you want him facing away? Won't it be hard for him to hear things that way?"

"I don't really need him to hear anything, but I don't want her to see him."

"Gotcha."

Once Bispy had settled, David covered him with a large towel, placing it in such a fashion that it looked like it had just been dropped there.

"Anything else you want to do before we call for her?"

"Nope." David went over and leaned against the wall in the corner. It would make it hard for Cherise to see him while she was looking at Garibaldi, but he would still be able to hear everything clearly.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Garibaldi went to see who it was, and Dean Lengel entered.

"Madame Lengel," Garibaldi said.

"Good morning, Officer Garibaldi. Good morning, David."

"Good morning, Ma'am."

"Do you need anything from our office?" she asked Garibaldi.

"If you could have Miss Cabalon brought here, I'd appreciate it."

"Simple enough." She pulled out her mirror, and dialed, saying, "Kippy." In a second, the little pixie that David had grown used to having summon him appeared. "Kippy, could you tell Cherise Cabalon that I need to see her in my office, please?"

"Surely!" Kippy said in her happy, high-pitched voice, and then popped out of existence.

"I'll send her down here when she arrives," Dean Lengel said. "Anything else?"

"You could give me official permission to miss class today," David said with a grin.

Dean Lengel looked over at him. "That's asking rather a lot," she said.

David shrugged. "I'm going to miss class whether you give me permission or not," he told her. "It's just a question of whether you're going to punish me for it later."

"I could punish you for it now, you know," she said.

"I'd rather you didn't," Garibaldi told her.

"Tag-teaming me, eh?" she replied. Garibaldi blushed.

"No, ma'am. Just expressing my opinion. If you want to punish him later, I don't care, but he may be of help to me here."

"We'll discuss whether you should be punished later, David. Come see me in my office when you two are done here."

"Yes, ma'am."

Dean Lengel left the room, which left Garibaldi and David to wait for Cherise to arrive.

"Can you use any kind of spell or potion on her to force her to tell the truth?" David asked.

"No. It's against the law. We can only use such things to find out stuff after she's been convicted."

"Why would you need to find out anything after she's convicted?"

"Well, maybe not in this case, but let's say we had a murderer, and we didn't know where the body was. We could force him to tell us where he hid it, but only after he'd already been convicted of the murder. We can also, once a person has been proven guilty of a serious enough crime, compel them to admit all other crimes they have committed."

"So, if you convict a murderer, you can find out if he's a serial killer?"

"Right. Because he's already been proven to be a criminal, and criminals have far fewer rights. We also tend to use the truth tests to verify that we did, in fact, convict the right person. If, under truth potion or truth charm, he tells us that he didn't commit the crime, then he will likely be released."

"Oh."

Their conversation lapsed at that point, and they waited in silence for the knock at the door. When it came, Garibaldi straightened, and said, "Come in."

Cherise entered the room hesitantly, unsure of exactly what was going on.

"I was told to come down here?" she said, making it sound like a question.

"Sit down," Garibaldi told her. As she did, she realized that there was someone else in the room.

"David!" she said. She wasn't sure whether to smile at him, or not, so she kept a neutral expression.

"What do you know about the poisoning of Olissa Volaire?" Garibaldi asked.

Cherise turned to David. "David? You know we've already-"

"The man asked you a question," David snapped. "I'm here merely as an observer."

Cherise frowned at that. She turned back to Garibaldi.

"Olissa Volaire. Poisoning. What do you know?" Garibaldi reiterated.

"Just the same as everyone else. She got hurt on April 1st, spent a few weeks in the infirmary, and got out late last week."

"That's all?"

"Yeah."

"The facts beg to differ," Garibaldi said. "Last Tuesday, you told David Stroud that Olissa was poisoned with Gelert Potion."

"So?"

"So that information has never been released to the student body."

"David told me."

"I have a sworn and signed affidavit to the contrary."

"He's lying," she said, shrugging.

"Or you are. Where were you the morning of April 1st, between the hours of 8am and 10am?"

"Hell, I don't remember," she said.

"So you have no alibi."

"I don't need one. I had nothing to do with Olissa's poisoning!"

"Do you know how to make Gelert Potion?"

"No."

"That's funny, because your instructor, a wizard adept named Eric Kendlehott, said you were quite good at it."

"I don't even know who that is," Cherise asserted.

"Look, girl, lies are bad enough. Stupid lies just make you look even guiltier. Kendlehott works for Mischief Magic. It's a school you attended - illegally, I might add - the year before last. Their records list you as a student, and before you go getting any ideas about it being a different Cherise Cabalon, you are the only person with that name in all of Callamandia."

Cherise opened her mouth, then closed it. After a few seconds, she said, "Okay, so I went to the school. That doesn't prove anything."

"It's enough to possibly prevent you from getting licensure, for one thing," Garibaldi said. "Your attendance is causing Mr. Kendlehott no end of problems, while he tries to explain why he let an unlicensed wizard go to his school for an entire year. My point is that you knew damned well how to make Gelert Potion."

"So do lots of people."

"Not lots of people with a motive."

"I barely know Olissa! I have no motive!"

"Except to punish David, for refusing to date you."

"He'll come around, eventually," she said confidently, her smile returning. "He and I are meant to be together."

"And putting Olissa in the infirmary was, what? Incentive for him to see the light?"

Cherise said nothing at all.

After a few beats, Garibaldi moved on. "Okay, fine. How about the poisoning of Prof. Samantha Stott?"

"What about it?" Cherise asked.

"What do you know about it?"

"Nothing."

"Really. Then perhaps you can explain what you were doing with a jar of the toxin that poisoned her."

"What?"

"We found, among your possessions, a jar containing trace amounts of the toxin that was responsible for Prof. Stott's illness."

"I must have gotten it from the same place she did. That jar must have contained food that went bad."

"There were no traces of food whatsoever in the jar," Garibaldi informed her. "So, what were you doing with a biological poison in your room?"

"Someone must have put it there," she replied.

"I see," Garibaldi said. He stood up, and looked around, then said, "Who?"

"What?"

"No, who. Who would frame you for attempted murder?"

"Attempted murder?" Cherise asked, a bit shaken.

"Yes, attempted murder. Had she not been treated promptly and well by Healer Hall, Prof. Stott would probably have died. That makes it attempted murder. Now, who, exactly, do you suppose has a motive to frame you for that?"

"I... I don't know." This was bullshit, and Garibaldi knew it. David was the obvious person to blame for it, but Cherise was hesitant to blame him for something this egregious.

"We'll set that aside for a moment. Do you know Stacy Kaplinger?"

"She's my roommate," Cherise acknowledged.

"Ever seen her baxayr stick?"

"Of course. It's in her room."

"Ever touch it?"

"Uh... probably, at some point."

"How about on the day that a large rock was pried loose from the cliff face above the terrace waterfall, nearly killing two students?"

"Huh?"

"There are traces of an automation charm and a strengthening charm on that baxayr stick. Two charms that would be necessary to use it as a lever to get that rock to fall."

"So why are you blaming me, and not Stacy?" Cherise said.

"Because Stacy was in class at the time, observed by a couple dozen people to be busy working on a potion," Garibaldi said. "Your two other roommates were likewise occupied. You, on the other hand, didn't have a class for another hour and a half."

"You can't prove I did anything."

"Perhaps. However, I find it suspicious that the two people in danger from that falling rock were once again close friends of David Stroud."

"Maybe David is at fault, then."

"David did not have access to the baxayr stick. More to the point, he was in the presence of Prof. Qwellyn at the time the rock was dislodged, and was seen immediately afterwards running toward, not away from, the location where the rock landed."

"There's more than one way for him to be at fault," Cherise said, looking over at David.

David stirred, but didn't speak. He glared at Cherise.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Garibaldi pressed.

"Nothing," Cherise said. She turned back to Garibaldi. "You have nothing that proves I did anything wrong."

Garibaldi leaned against the bookshelf behind him. "Why did you hire the services of Anthony Feldspar?"

"I don't know who that is."

Garibaldi sighed. "Mr. Feldspar is an impediveur."

"A what?" David asked, unable to stop himself.

Garibaldi said, "An impediveur is someone who is skilled at preventing divination. In this case, Mr. Feldspar performed several anti-divination charms around Miss Cabalon, here."

"Prove it," Cherise said snidely.

Mr. Garibaldi slid a piece of parchment across in front of her. "This is the contract you signed with him. Did you forget? He makes everyone sign a contract, for exactly this reason. It protects him, legally, from trouble."

Cherise looked at it, then slid it back over. "So what? Hiring an impediveur isn't illegal."

"No, it's not. But it does make me wonder just exactly what you had to hide. Given that you were forced to take out a rather large loan just to pay the man, it seems that it was rather important to you that your actions remained covert."

"I like my privacy," Cherise sniffed.

Garibaldi looked over at David, and shrugged. Turning back, Garibaldi said, "Okay, now, we're going to go over every detail of the days in question, and you'd better have better answers than, 'I don't remember,' or we're going to be here a very long time."

-----

Four hours later, Garibaldi turned back from the window, and looked at David. He could tell that Cherise was beginning to wear out, but he wasn't sure that she was going to crack. It was time to try David's idea, whatever it was. He nodded at David.

David moved forward, to the end of the table where Bispy lay. Bispy'd been silent for the entire time, unmoving, but attentive. He saw David approach.

David pulled the towel off Bispy, and tossed it to Garibaldi.

"Wipe your forehead," David said.

"What the hell is that?" Cherise asked, staring at Bispy.

"Oh, this? This is just a dragon. His name is Bisperion. He's Olissa's familiar."

David saw the color drain from Cherise's face.

"What's the matter, Cherise? You look even paler than I am. Oh, wait... could that look be because you know that pissing off one dragon, means that you piss off all dragons? Are you worried that Bispy might not believe that you had nothing to do with Olissa's injuries? Are you looking into a future when you might be hunted down and charred to a crisp because you chose to make an enemy of the dragon race by hurting one of their allies? Well, you know, there is one safe place from the dragons. It's called prison. Now, I wouldn't recommend you confess unless you did it... but then, if you didn't do it, you don't have anything to fear from Bispy and his cousins, right?"

Cherise could not take her eyes off Bispy, who was playing his role to the hilt, spreading his wings and glaring at her. He stalked toward her along the table top, folding his wings slightly, but keeping them raised, to make himself look more menacing.

When Bispy got within a couple feet, Cherise couldn't take it anymore, and bolted out of her chair, flattening herself against the far wall. Bispy stared at her for a long moment, then opened his mouth and hissed. The sound was worse than any snake or alligator could have produced, and Cherise shuddered.

Cherise was shaking when she asked, "C-can I t-talk to D-David for a m-min-nute, in p-p-private?"

"Sure," Garibaldi said. As he walked past David, he whispered in his ear, "The recorder is still on."

David nodded in acknowledgment, but didn't say anything. As Garibaldi left the room, David motioned Bispy back to the end of the table, and the two acted as if David was having to force him back. In truth, David wouldn't dare put his hands on Bispy in an aggressive manner.

Finally, David turned and said, "So what do you want?"

"David... can't you make this go away?" she said, stuttering a bit. "All I want is to be with you."

"Are you fucking cracked? You must be out of your motherfucking mind to think that I would go out with you after all of this! You've made the last month of my life a living hell!"

"I never meant to hurt you. I would never hurt you."

"Oh, but going after my friends was fair game, huh?" David said. Cherise closed her mouth tightly.

"You make me sick," David said. "Too stupid to simply accept the truth, which is that I will never date you. Too cowardly to come at me directly in retaliation. Too craven to even look your victims in the face as you attack!"

"I am not a coward," Cherise said, keeping her voice under tight control.

"Yes you are," David replied. "I saw how you reacted just now, to the thought of being hunted by dragons. You can't even stand up to a juvenile dragon. He's not even a fire-breather yet! And his very presence sent you jumping across the room. It doesn't get much more cowardly than that.

"But I didn't need to see that to know you're a coward. Your quarrel is with me. Me, not with any of my friends! You said it yourself, you hardly even know Olissa, or Gwen, or Devyn. Why did you have to attack them?" David demanded.

Cherise blurted out, "Why should they get to have you if I can't? I hate them all! You spend your time with them, THEM! They don't love you! I love you! They have no right to you!"

"And, of course, if they weren't around, I would turn to you for comfort and friendship, right?" David said. He was horrified at what she'd just said, but he had to push that far down for the moment. He needed her to keep talking.

"I would be there for you always, David! You don't need those other girls. You only need me!" she said, crying now.

"So you were just trying to show me what I really needed," he said, trying to put sympathy into his voice. He doubted he was really succeeding. Cherise, however, nodded at his words. "You tried to run off Rose, because she was competition." Cherise nodded again. This wasn't illegal, and easy for her to admit to.

"And, of course, when you blackmailed me into dating you, you were just trying to get me to see the light," David said, his voice still sounding sympathetic.

"We had fun, didn't we?" she said, smiling, but still crying. "It was just too short. We could have had a lot more fun, if you hadn't broken up with me!"

David nodded, as if understanding all of this for the first time. "But then, I don't understand, why hurt Miss J? She and I weren't dating or anything of the sort."

"You would have. If there was no one else, you might have turned to her, instead of me."

"I see," David said, actually meaning it this time. "So you were trying to remove all of your potential competition, before you went after the main women in my life. Who else was on your list? Surely you couldn't have thought that Miss J was the only girl I might turn to."

She shook her head. "I didn't see you with any other girls."

David moved over and sat on the table above her, doing his very best to look as if he was coming around to her side, or at least admiring her plan. "So, you figured, with my 'backup plan' gone, then you could go after the real women in my life."

Cherise nodded.

"How did you get the toxin that you used on Prof. Stott?" David asked, trying to show more curiosity than hatred.

Cherise seemed to be past noticing. She wanted David's approval of her plan, of her, of their future. "I just left some meat to rot, and then soaked it in water to pull out the toxins. I did that a few times, then concentrated it. I used a spell to inject it into the cream puffs."

"Not a bad plan," David conceded. It actually was fairly ingenious. "And the rock with Gwen and Devyn? Why choose that? It seemed a bit risky; you might have accidentally hurt someone you didn't mean to."

"I wouldn't have cared. As long as we can be together, David. I'd kill anyone you asked me to."

David took her hand, and Cherise nearly swooned. "Just one more thing. Why use Gelert Potion on Olissa? Seems like you'd have gone after Devyn. She was my girlfriend, after all."

"And she's not anymore, is she? In fact, she won't even talk to you. I got rid of two birds with one stone! It was a master stroke. Girlfriends come and go. Olissa's your best friend, and I knew that I couldn't take any chances with her."

"You seem to know an awful lot about how I feel about people. Just how long have you been watching me, Cherise?"

"Since the day we found out you were a demighost."

"You've been watching me since last year?"

"Yes! And it hurt me so much, not being able to touch you! But now we can be together, for always! I knew that you and Amanda would never last. She couldn't handle the teasing. I just waited until she went away on her own. I'd hoped you would thank me for rescuing you from the moat, and we could start dating then, but you didn't come find me. I knew, when I saw you at the Handbook Committee meeting, that it was my turn."

"I just have one last question for you," David said, smiling down at her encouragingly.

"What?" she asked, smiling tearily up at him.

"How do you think you're going to like prison, bitch?" David said angrily. He forcefully threw her hand down on the table, and got up, walking to the door. David opened it and motioned Garibaldi inside.

"Get anything?" Garibaldi asked.

"Oh, I think you might find it interesting," David allowed.

"David, what are you talking about?" Cherise said. She wasn't able to process his sudden break in attitude away from what she wanted.

"You, young lady, were being recorded," Garibaldi said, pulling the 'book' off its shelf. He set it down on the table and opened the cover. Inside still looked like a book. There was a page with some writing, and a few empty boxes for entering commands. Into one of those boxes, Garibaldi wrote, "Since I left the room."

Suddenly, an image of David, Bispy, the table, and Cherise was projected in small form so that the real tabletop was acting as a floor for the projection. Together, they watched in silence as Cherise admitted to David every dirty deed she'd done.

When the display was finished, Cherise was seething. "You tricked me!" she accused David.

"Yes, I did. You're not as bright as you think you are. By the way, as far as I know, pissing off one dragon has no effect on the other dragons at all. Of course, that doesn't mean that Bispy doesn't want to rip your heart out and eat it for lunch."

"This... this will never stand up in court! You're a demighost! You can't testify!"

"He doesn't need to. We have you on record, confessing."

She looked over at David, now enraged. "I should have left you to drown in the moat."

David shook his head. "You stupid cow. I could have spent a hundred days in that moat, and it wouldn't have made any difference at all. You really are as dumb as you look, aren't you?"

Cherise tried to lunge for David, but Garibaldi stopped her. David said, "Let her go. If she wants to attack me, I've got the right to defend myself. It'll save everyone a lot of time and energy." David's hand was on his wand, and Cherise could see energy crackling from its tip. She backed off rather quickly, and succumbed to the magical handcuff hex.

"Why couldn't you just love me?" Cherise asked David, now crying again.

"Because you're a psychopath, and I'm not," David said simply. Turning to Garibaldi, he asked, "Did I get enough out of her?"

"Oh, way more than enough. There will be little doubt of her guilt at this point."

"Good. Now I have to go face the music with the dean."

"Good luck."

-----

"Hi, David," Tracy said. "Go on in. She's expecting you."

David nodded, then knocked on the dean's door.

"Come in," she said.

David came into the room, and then moved to stand before the dean's desk.

"Well, you know the routine. Have a seat," she said, smiling at him.

"I thought I was in trouble," he said.

Dean Lengel snorted. "Yeah, right. You just like making drama."

David cocked an eyebrow at her.

"I was watching the interrogation, David. I used a divination spell. Nice acting there at the end, by the way."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Oh, and just so you know, making an enemy of a dragon is not a good idea. You might not anger every dragon, everywhere, but you are likely to enrage his clan, which is usually bad enough. Where is Bispy, by the way?"

"I sent him off back to Olissa."

"How is she doing?"

"She's trying to attend class today. She's still a bit weak, and scared to death."

"Scared? Of what?"

"Her licensure exam. She missed a month of class. She's convinced she'll never make it up in time. I'm trying my best to help her, but we've only got a week left, and then we have to take finals. I'm not sure how much studying we'll be able to do that week, to get her ready for licensure."

"Oh, I see. Is there anything the school can do to help her?"

"Not that I can think of. We're spending every free moment we've got on studying. I've even asked Prof. Stott for the remainder of the semester off of my apprenticeship."

"I see. Do you have a good place to study, where you're not disturbing others?"

"Eh... I guess it's working, though her roommates have already complained once, and my roommates are too often talking in our room to be a good place."

"So, if we could provide some peace and quiet and privacy, that would be helpful?"

"Yes, I guess it would. Is there like a conference room or something that we could use?"

"Actually, I can go one better than that. I'm going to give you access to our detention housing. I'm not going to lock you in, don't worry, but you and Olissa can use it to study. You can also get meals there, and, should you need to take a break, you can take a nap there. This way, you don't need to worry about disturbing others. I honestly don't know how close to catching up you can get her, but since it wasn't her fault, we need to do what we can to try to help you."

"Thanks, Madame Lengel."

"No problem, David. Give Olissa my best wishes, as well."

"I will. Say, where, exactly, is detention housing?"

Dean Lengel chuckled. "Wait outside, and I'll have someone show you."

"Okay."

-----

"So, what happened with Cherise?" Simon asked. David was packing up some books in his bag.

"Cherise was arrested, and is being taken first for psychiatric evaluation."

"Wait... she might get off because she's crazy?" Nate asked. "That would suck."

"From what Garibaldi tells me, criminally insane people aren't treated much better than typical prisoners."

"Yeah, but she'll get out a lot sooner," Nate complained.

"And be sent straight to Earth. Anyone who's been sent to the criminal psych ward is automatically disqualified to hold a wizarding license. In fact, so is anyone convicted of a serious crime."

"That's true," Simon said. "So, that issue's wrapped up, then? Are you going to have to testify against her?"

"Garibaldi said he'd try to keep me out of it. Truth is that I didn't see anything incriminating. I may have to be there because I'm the central cause of things. We'll just have to see."

"So... what're you doing? Class is over for the day..."

"I'm going to study with Olissa. You probably aren't going to see much of me for the next couple weeks. We're going to be hitting the books pretty hard, to try to get her caught up."

"You be in her room, if we need you?"

"No. Dean Lengel gave us access to the detention house, so we'd have someplace to work. We'll be there."

"Okay."

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

Olissa slammed the book closed, and stretched, then rubbed her forehead. "My brain is frying," she said. "This isn't going to work, David. I can't cram a month of study into a week! I can't!"

David slid over and wrapped his arms around her. She hugged back, but he could feel the tension radiating through her body.

"Don't give up on me, now," David said softly, rubbing her back. "We've still got five days left before finals begin, and twelve days, minimum, before your licensure exam. Don't worry about your finals. We both know they're not nearly as important as your license."

"There's no way I'm going to pass my licensure," she said morosely. "It's hopeless!"

"It's not hopeless," David told her. "We can do this. You just need to calm down a bit. Relax. What is the very worst that can happen to you?"

"I fail my licensure exam," she said.

"Okay, and what does that really mean? It means you have to try again next year. Were you planning on coming to school next year, anyway?"

"Yeah..."

"Then all it really means, if you don't pass your exam this year, is that you won't be able to do magic away from school until the end of next year. Annoying, but it's not the end of the world."

"I guess not," she said. "But I'd feel like a failure."

"Even if you give it your very best shot?"

"Well..."

"It's not your fault you were out of it for a month. It's mine. So if we can't get you caught up, that's not your fault, either."

"You didn't poison me, David," Olissa objected.

"No, I just turned down the crazy woman who did, causing her to try to kill off all of my friends."

"You couldn't have anticipated that."

"I sure as hell could have by the time she got to you. Or if I'd just stayed awake to warn you," he said, frustration filling his voice.

"She'd just have postponed things. You might have stopped her once... but she'd have just kept coming. Besides, you did cure me."

"Thanks to Lord Woodward, not anything I figured out," he said. "No, if one of us is a failure, it's me, not you."

"Oh, come on, David. Don't be so hard on yourself. You're a second-year student. You did damned well, from what Healer Hall told me. Ease up a little, would you?"

David said, "I'll ease up on myself, if you'll ease up on yourself..."

Olissa smiled. "Okay, deal." She hugged David again.

When they broke the embrace, she said, "I just wish I could relax a little bit."

"Well," David said, rubbing her arm. "I do know one way..."

Olissa looked at him, then, understanding dawning, she smiled. They were soon on the way to the bedroom.

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

"Fancy meeting you two here," Jim said. "I haven't seen either of you outside of class all week."

"We've been studying," David said. "But we needed a break. Besides, Prof. Schmidt asked if he could borrow Bispy for the seminar."

"This should be a good one," Jim said.

After a minute, Prof. Schmidt appeared from behind the Animal Annex.

"Good morning, students. Today is our Magical Creatures Familiarization Seminar on Draconic species. For those of you not familiar with the word draconic, we are talking about the dragon family. If you'll all join me over by the annex..."

The group walked together to the side of the building, where there was a stand with a cage on it. Inside the cage was a nasty creature all too familiar to David. He'd seen more than a dozen of them up close the previous year.

"This filthy little creature is called a prembat. Not quite the most primitive of the dragons, but certainly close. The dragon family, you see, spans a very wide group of creatures, from primitive to very advanced. From stupid to wise, and from aggressive to docile.

"The prembat is primitive, stupid, and highly aggressive. If you encounter one, you will encounter many, as they live in groups. If you do encounter them, chances are they will be chasing you, as they don't like any other creatures in their territory. If you should happen to be bitten by one, get yourself to a healer or potions master quickly, as their bite is venomous.

"These beasts make horrible pets, and cannot be trained as guard animals. In fact, we've found absolutely no use for them whatsoever, unless being an annoyance can be considered a use. It would be dangerous for you to touch the prembat, so we'll move along."

Moving over slightly, Prof. Schmidt whistled. In just a second, a creature no bigger than Bisperion came dashing out of the annex. It looked like a baby red dragon, though its wings looked a tad too small.

"This is a drakee," Prof. Schmidt told them, picking the creature up. The drakee cuddled against Prof. Schmidt. "This one is named Eli. Drakees are the one domesticated member of the dragon family. Drakees cannot fend for themselves, and they love being around people. They're still not very bright. Drakees will never talk. They are, however, about as aggressive as a cotton ball. They love to play, and they can get a bit rough when they get excited, but it's all in good fun.

"Drakees cannot fly well. As you see, their wings have atrophied, because they tend not to use them much. Drakees make great pets, as they are clean, social, and fairly gentle. They even like children. There is just one warning about drakees. The other dragons do look out for them, because they like drakees, too. If you are found to be mistreating a drakee, the consequences could be very unpleasant for you.

"I'm just going to let Eli play amongst you while we carry on with the seminar. Feel free to say hi and pet him. Just don't get him over-excited." Prof. Schmidt set the drakee on the ground. "Go on, Eli. Say hi."

Eli immediately scurried into the crowd, crawling up on people and shoving his head into their chests for petting.

While Eli was making friends, Prof. Schmidt retreated into the annex to retrieve their next dragon, which was significantly larger than Eli. The creature towered over Prof. Schmidt, standing at least eight feet tall.

"This is a wyvern," Prof. Schmidt said. "These are very dangerous creatures, and this one is being kept calm through the use of Animperium. This is an exceptionally large wyvern, and they can run the gamut from huge, like this fellow, to about the size of Eli. If you encounter a wyvern in the wild, you should hope it does not decide to hunt you. Once a wyvern engages in a hunt, it will continue to track that creature until one or the other is dead. Wyverns are of average predatory intelligence, which means they're no slouches in the brain department, but they can't talk, and they're not human-level bright. Not only am I not going to let you pet this guy, I'm going to ask you to stay back away from him.

"Wyverns live in forests and swamps. They'll eat anything that moves, including prembats and other small dragons. Wyvern bites are magically painful, causing pain so intense it may paralyze you. Also, a wyvern has camouflage magic. When it is hunting, it will lie motionless, and when it does, you will be unable to see it until it moves again. The magic is a psychological effect, rather than a physical one, so it doesn't work on everyone, and it works less well if you remember it's happening. Still, you'll have difficulty seeing them even if it doesn't work fully. The best advice is to stay as far away from wyverns as you can. They may be the most dangerous of the dragon species you see here today."

Prof. Schmidt put the wyvern away. As he was doing so, David felt something slam into his shin. He looked down to see Eli, looking up at him.

"Hey, buddy," David said, and reached down for him. Eli scampered up David's arm and sat on his shoulder. He sniffed over at Olissa, but cringed, and then moved over to David's other shoulder and hopped onto Jim.

"Guess he can smell Bispy," David said. Olissa nodded.

"Speaking of," Jim said, motioning. Prof. Schmidt was just now leading Bispy out of the annex. Bispy was riding on Prof. Schmidt's shoulder, much as Eli was sitting on Jim's.

Prof. Schmidt set Bispy down onto a table, where he unfolded his wings and tried to look menacing. He held out his front claws, and began to bob his head and sway his neck back and forth. The move was reminiscent of a cobra. He was big enough to be scary, but probably not as fierce as he wanted to look.

"This is a juvenile cave dragon," Prof. Schmidt said. "Normally, getting a cave dragon to one of the seminars is extremely difficult, because they don't like to be bothered. This one, however, is a familiar, belonging to Miss Volaire, and he agreed to participate, though he said he would not be 'manhandled', so I gather he does not wish you to pet him, unless, that is, you happen to have a snack he can eat."

The group laughed at this.

"Cave dragons are approximately human-level intelligent. They can talk when they reach adulthood, though Bisperion here cannot talk to anyone except his wizard at the moment. Cave dragons do breathe fire, but again, it is a skill that only adults possess.

"If you should happen to come across a cave dragon in your explorations, your safest bet is to simply apologize, and leave. Though they are easy to annoy, they tend to be slow to true anger, and won't attack you until you give them a good reason. They'll eat virtually anything, including some things that are inedible."

Once again, the group laughed.

"Are there any questions?"

"How big will he get?"

"A fully grown cave dragon will be thirty feet long, including the tail, with a wingspan of fifty feet or so."

"Could he be ridden?"

"Certainly. Cave dragons have been used as war mounts in the past. However, there has to be a reason for them to participate in said war. If, for instance, their caves were threatened, they would agree to help the human wizards fend off the attackers. They will not acquiesce to being ridden just for the fun of it."

"How old is he?"

"I'm not sure. Miss Volaire?"

"Bispy is fourteen."

"How long will he live?"

"Now that's a good question. No one knows the lifespan of a dragon. Anyone else?" There seemed to be no further questions. "Thank you, Bispy. And thank you, Miss Volaire, for allowing him to appear."

Bispy jumped from the table and glided over to Olissa's shoulder, causing several people to back away briefly, until he'd settled himself.

"Now, onto our next creature." Prof. Schmidt motioned, and the next creature came out, with a rider on its back. It had the long neck of a dragon, and a long tail, but only two legs, and no wings at all. It looked a bit like a dinosaur to David.

"This is one of an entire subfamily of dragons, known as the wingless wyrms. The name is misleading, since most of the wyrms have legs, but the group was named for the original creatures found, which were in fact legless, wingless, and very nasty. That particular group has since been rendered extinct. However, there is an entire class of dragon that has no wings, and they have, for better or worse, been labeled wingless wyrms.

"Now, most of the wyrms end up as human helpers. Please understand, these are not domesticated animals, for their intelligence level is much too high for that. Like many magical creatures, their purpose seems to be in helping mankind. The wyrm she is riding, for instance, acts as a convenient transport. It enjoys being ridden. Other wyrms make good beasts of burden, some are good at helping lift things, or at helping to knock things down in appropriate ways... There are various ways in which the wyrms are useful.

"Wyrms don't talk, but that almost seems to be more of a choice than a disability. They can communicate with people in other ways when necessary, but most of the time, they just keep their thoughts to themselves. Given a complex task, however, they are fully capable of carrying it out on their own, so long as they're physically capable of performing all the parts of the task.

"Should you encounter a wyrm in the wild... well, frankly, ignore it. Chances are that it's busy doing something. If it's in your way, just ask it to move aside. Your only danger of being hurt by a wyrm is accidentally. They are almost as docile as a drakee, and only become truly dangerous when frightened. But then, so very little frightens them that it's almost a non-issue. Go ahead and take him back in, Sheila."

The girl rode the wyrm back into the annex, and Prof. Schmidt said, "Okay, our last creature is behind the annex. If you'll wait a moment, I'll have him come around." Prof. Schmidt went around the corner, and in a second, he was back. Just then, they heard a bit of a thud, and the ground shook.

"Uh-oh," David said.

One of the girls screamed in surprise as a large head appeared over the top of the annex building, some thirty feet in the air. The dragon ignored the scream, but continued to stare at them. It then disappeared from view, and the head reappeared much closer to the ground as the huge animal came around the corner.

The dragon was a deep, vibrant green color, with its underside a mottled brown. Its wings were folded tightly to its body as it walked, and both its head and tail were held up off the ground. The creature was huge, at least eighty feet long, including neck and tail. It moved all the way around the corner, and then settled itself to the ground, its front feet crossed over each other, and its head up, looking at the crowd.

Prof. Schmidt said, "This is Ty. He is a forest dragon. He represents the highest level of dragon development. Lake dragons, forest dragons, rock dragons, a few others... are all, in essence, the same dragon, they just live in different places. I will let Ty tell you about himself."

"Good morning," Ty said, his voice deep, and with a hint of rumble in his throat. "Dragons such as myself are the ruling class of the dragon world. We are extremely intelligent - much more so than humans - very wise, and in most cases, very old. We exist, for the most part, in harmony with humans. Occasionally, one of our number will be angered, and a human settlement will pay the price. This is rare, and is best avoided, rather than combatted. When humans make a concerted effort to attack a dragon, other dragons will rise in defense. There has only ever been one war between dragons and humans, and it didn't end well for either side.

"If you should encounter one of my kind, please don't scream. We are not going to eat you for breakfast... though I am told humans are crunchy, and taste good with something called ketchup, whatever that is. We prey on things much larger than you, and you are simply not worth our time.

"If you need the help of a dragon - and what human doesn't - you may ask for it. Don't assume that you will actually receive it, however. That will be up to the individual dragon to decide. If you attempt to force us to help you... well, then we may have to learn what ketchup is," Ty said with the dragon equivalent of a grin, which looked rather malevolent.

Prof. Schmidt asked, "Are there any questions?"

"How long do dragons live?" someone asked immediately.

"I'm sorry," said Ty. "I'm a trifle deaf in this ear. Speak a little louder next time. Is there another question?"

The audience took this to mean that Ty was not going to answer that.

"Do dragons have rules?"

"Yes. There is a ruling council of dragons. I was once a member of the council, but grew bored with the notion and retired. They pass rules that all dragons must follow. If a dragon breaks those rules, then they are in danger from other dragons."

"Why do dragons allow themselves to become familiars?" Olissa asked.

"You'd better ask them that," Ty said. "I find the notion somewhat repulsive."

There were several more questions, but finally, the group seemed to run out of steam.

"Well. Thank you, Ty, for your time and patience."

Ty nodded, then rose. He spread his wings, which spanned well over a hundred feet across, and gave a powerful leap into the air. He was thirty feet up before he flapped his wings, and he was quickly rising into the sky. Soon, he was a mere speck in the distance.

"Well, students, that's all for today. I do hope you've enjoyed this review of draconic species. Our first seminar next year will be on equine species. Have a good day, and good luck next week!"

As the group moved off, David walked over to the professor.

"Professor... we've already seen equine species, last year."

"Yes. The seminars cycle every two years. That way, those students who only stay to get their licensure, will still have a chance to see all of the creatures."

"Oh. Okay. Well, thanks, Professor. It was definitely interesting."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. Good day."

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

"Well, David. How is the exam going so far?" Prof. Rutherford asked. She had just called him into a side room for his practical demonstration.

"About as well as I expected, Professor," David said with a grin. "Badly."

Prof. Rutherford chuckled. "I'm sorry to hear that. Well, you know why we're here." She motioned to the large bin of dirt in the room. "Try to make it... well, do something."

David nodded seriously. He focused his energy, and calmed his mind. He stared intently at the dirt, and then he lifted his hand. He jerked upward with his hand, clenching it into a fist.

Suddenly, the dirt in the bin rumbled, and a pillar of soil, about two inches in diameter, thrust its way up through the surface.

For about three inches.

David exhaled sharply, and looked at it pitifully.

"Sorry, Professor. That's all I've got."

"Well, it's better than you've managed so far. You're getting better, albeit slowly."

"Yes, ma'am. Just out of curiosity, is this even a passing grade?"

"You got it to do something, didn't you? Of course it's a passing grade. Just don't ask for an A!" she said with a grin.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he told her.

"You did all right, David. Relax. Go take the rest of your exam."

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

"Mr. Stroud, I have a question about your term paper," Prof. Gardner said quietly when David turned in his final exam.

"Yes, sir?"

"This is some of the most insightful analysis of Lord Woodward's life I have ever seen, and I was wondering how you came to some of the conclusions you reached about the motives for his actions."

David shook his head. "I don't know what you mean, sir."

"As a single for-instance, you state that it was Lord Woodward's previous dealings with weres, which had shown them to not like climbing, that caused him to build Mt. Woodward. That information is in no resource I've ever read. How did you come to that conclusion?"

Smiling, David shrugged. "I asked him."

"Excuse me?"

"Professor, Lord Woodward resides here in the castle. I chose to do my report on him specifically because I could interview him directly. I didn't do any analysis of Lord Woodward, sir, I simply asked him why he did things, and recorded the answer."

"Ah. That explains your citations page somewhat. I had not considered this option for obtaining information. How much time did you spend talking to Lord Woodward, to gain this information?"

"All told? Probably a full day. We had three interviews, each lasting several hours."

"I see. You should have cited this differently in your citations, so I'm glad you told me about it."

"Sorry about that, sir."

"It's all right. Have a good summer."

"Yes, sir."

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

"How did you do on your exams?" Gwen asked Olissa.

"Horrible," she said, frowning.

"Did you pass?" Jim asked.

"Barely, in some cases. But yeah, I passed all of them."

"I told you that you would," David told her. She smiled at him.

"How'd you do this semester?" Simon asked David.

"A's and B's. One C."

"What did you get a C in?"

"TEM, what else?"

Simon chuckled. "At least you passed."

"Yeah. Now, on to licensure."

"Where I'm sure to fail," Olissa said.

"Piffle," David replied. "You said that about your finals. What is the licensure exam like, anyway?"

Simon said, "It's a lot like last year's exam, only much longer, and much harder. There will be questions from every subject you've studied."

"My grade report didn't list a time. It just said Thursday. How do I know when to show up?"

"Yours is Thursday, too?" Olissa asked.

"Hey, I'm Thursday!" Nate said.

Gwen told David, "You have to show up at nine o'clock on Thursday. You'll sit in a room with about thirty or so other people, and wait for them to call your name. You could be there all day."

"Joy. Can we study while we're there?"

"Sure, as long as you don't disturb other people."

"This is not going to be fun," David opined.

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

When David and Olissa arrived in Prof. Thropp's classroom, they looked around for people they knew. Nate waved to them from across the room, and they waved back.

"Hey, David! Hi, Olissa," a voice said from their left. They looked to see Flo sitting there, reading a magazine.

"Hey, Flo. I didn't know you'd be here."

"Yeppers!" she said. David could tell she was a bit nervous, despite her smile. David and Olissa sat down in the row in front of her.

David could tell that Olissa was scared. He could even see her shaking. He reached over and took her hand. She looked at him, frowning.

"Take it easy. You've studied as hard as you could. You've done everything you could do. All you have to do is go in there and do the best that you can. Anything more is out of your control." The two had worked through every free moment, studying for the last two weeks. David was comfortable with his knowledge, though he was a bit shaky on his practical abilities in places. Olissa, however, still felt as though she was behind.

"I'm never going to get past this," she said.

"You need to relax," David told her.

"What, right here? I don't think that's allowed," She told him, grinning. It was a nervous reaction.

David chuckled, and then squeezed her hand. Just then, two people David had never seen before walked in, and made their way to the front of the room.

"Good morning. First, we are going to call the roll. Once we are through with that, we will call four names, and each of you will go with one of the people standing in the back. As each of those four finishes their exam, another of you will be called, until there are no more students left in the room. You are not allowed to return to this room after your exam, so if you have brought anything with you, you must take it with you when you leave. Are there any questions?"

"Are we allowed to go to the restroom?"

"Of course. There are, however, two observers in the halls, to keep an eye on you."

"Will we be breaking for lunch?"

"Lunch will be served right here. It will be the same kind of meal you'd have had in the cafeteria."

"How long will we be here?"

"That depends on how far down the list your name is. Anything further?" There were no more questions. "Very well." No one talked or joked as the person read off all the names of the people in the room. Once that was done, she said, "The examination has officially begun. I will now call the first four names."

Nate was among the first four called. David gave him a thumbs up as he walked by, but Nate was too nervous to even smile about it. Once the four had gone, David looked over at Olissa.

"And so it begins," he told her. She didn't smile, either.

-----

"Olissa Volaire," the voice said.

"Oh, god, I think I'm going to puke," she said.

"I don't think that will get you any extra points," David said with a smile. He stood up with her, and then he embraced her strongly. "I believe in you, Olissa. You can do this."

Olissa smiled at him, and then she gave him a short kiss. After that, he let her go, and watched as she was led out of the room. He realized he was more nervous for her than he was for himself.

I hope she does okay.

-----

"Flo Tractus," the voice said. David turned around to look at Flo. She quickly took out her mirror and checked her hair, then used her finger to wipe off a touch of stray lipstick. She put her mirror away, then straightened her coat.

Looking at David, she smiled, held out her arms, and said, "It's Flo Time!"

David chuckled, and gave her an "OK" sign in support. She walked out confidently, following the escort with a spring in her step.

Must be nice, David thought.

-----

David did not bother eating the lunch they provided. He was, as usual, not hungry, but his stomach was decidedly queasy, and he didn't feel like making that worse. Instead, he sat, studying TEM, and his E&C book. They were his worst subjects.

He was startled when the voice intoned, "David Stroud." David actually felt eyes on himself. He looked to see virtually all of the remaining students looking at him.

What the hell's that about? he wondered. He tried to put it out of his mind as he packed up his books and stood. He turned to the escort.

"Lay on, MacDuff," he told her, affecting a Scottish accent. She arched an eyebrow at him, then turned, and led him down the hallway to his doom.

David entered the classroom, and looked around. The room had been completely cleared of tables and chairs. At the front was the only remaining table, with three people seated at it: two women, and one man. He didn't recognize any of them, of course. Off to one side, sitting on a stool, was Dean Lengel.

"Madame Dean," David said, now nervous beyond belief. The dean nodded at him.

"The dean is here merely as an observer. You are David Stroud, yes?" the man asked. He was sitting in the middle, with a lady on either side of him.

"Yes, sir."

"Very good. Do you have anything to say before we begin the examination, that might in some way impact your performance?"

Remembering his test from last year, David said, "I would like to point out that I am a demighost. This will affect my ability to perform metamorphosis charms on myself. Other than that, it should have no effect that I am aware of."

"In what way does it affect your ability to do metamorphosis?" the woman on the left asked.

"A demighost's shape cannot be altered, ma'am. Therefore, I cannot morph myself. No one else can morph me, either. If they try, I am forced into my ghost form until the following sunrise."

"Are you able to morph others?" the woman on the right asked.

"Yes, ma'am. It has no effect on my ability to cast the spell, just on my body's ability to accept it."

"Understood. Is there anything else?"

"Not unless it matters that Dean Lengel's presence is making me nervous as all get-out," he said with a grin.

The examiners chuckled. "You'll just have to deal with that, I'm afraid. Are you ready to begin the examination?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well. First off, explain to us, in your own words, the reasoning behind licensure. Include in your discussion the pros and cons of licensing wizards."

David arched his eyebrows. "As I understand it, the licensure procedure was established after a rogue wizard, Lord Dailey, ran amok through Callamandia. The law at the time, however, didn't give the king an effective way of dealing with Lord Dailey, who he ended up exiling to the land of the giants.

"The king called a council of master wizards, and after much arguing and debate, they decided that it would be good to have a wizarding license, to limit those who could perform magic to those with the license, and to exile anyone without the license to Earth. Later on, the licensing system was expanded to have various levels, such as we see today.

"The benefit of the licensing system is pretty obvious: No one can use magic until they actually know how. People have to be trained, and to prove that they know what they're doing, before they are allowed to let their magic loose on the world. Also, the discipline necessary to pass the licensing procedure tends to mute the tendency for people to want to abuse their magic for kicks. Another benefit is that it does, in fact, give the king a ready-made punishment for serious magical infractions.

"As to the drawbacks to the system, the only thing that comes to mind is the bureaucracy involved. In order to maintain the system, there have to be schools, which means teachers and administrators. There have to be examiners, and someone has to come up with all the questions... and there must be an education ministry. Time, money, effort are all being poured into the system, and that energy could go elsewhere if there was no licensing measure."

"And do you advocate this?" one of the women asked.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Magic is dangerous in the hands of the uninformed. Just in my two years here at school, I've seen magic used to injure, and even to attempt to kill. People shouldn't be allowed to wield that level of power without knowing what they're doing. It reduces accidents and injuries, which could end up taking up as many resources as you would save by not having the licensing system."

"Very well. We shall move on, now, to your study subjects. We are going to start with Umbrasocius. Please perform the invocation to call forth a ghost, if you would."

David closed his eyes, and he could sense several ghosts present. He recognized two of them, but he wasn't going to say anything about that to the examiners.

Opening his eyes, David spread his hands and lifted his gaze. He never quite understood why this was part of the process, since the ghosts were all standing on the floor, but he would do it the way he'd been taught.

"Hello. My name is David Stroud. I am a student at The Woodward Academy of Magical Arts. I am here today as part of my testing for magical licensure. I would ask that one of the ghosts present please come forth, so that we may speak briefly... and so that I will pass my examination."

The examiners chuckled at this final statement. They didn't have to wait long before a ghost appeared.

"Good afternoon, David Stroud of Woodward Academy," the ghost said. "I am Sidney Freedman."

"Good afternoon, Master Freedman," David replied. "Thank you for joining us."

"My pleasure. What is it we should discuss?"

David turned to the examiners. "You asked me to bring him here... what do you want of him?"

"Nothing in particular, really. However, you said something curious in your invocation. You asked for one of the ghosts present to come forward. There is more than one here?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"How do you know this?"

"As a demighost, I can sense their presence."

"I see. Well, that is all we need."

David turned back to the ghost. "I apologize, sir, for disrupting your day. Apparently we don't have need of your services, after all."

"Not a problem," Freedman said. "And good luck with the rest of your exam." With that, the ghost faded out. David could tell he didn't go anywhere, though.

After scribbling a few notes, the woman on the left asked, "How often should wand maintenance be performed?"

David blinked. "Which kind of maintenance?" he asked in return.

"Any kind."

"Your wand should be polished weekly, for aesthetics and to keep the wood from drying out. Once every few months, you should clean it magically, to remove any spell residue which might be clinging to it. And once a year or so, you should take it to the wand maker, for a professional check on its condition."

"What's the easiest way to do laundry?"

"Uh... let the brownies do it?"

The examiners chuckled. "Away from the school," the questioner specified.

"Oh. The detergio spells."

"Name one spell from the sexual education course that you did not use during your practical application."

"Beosda."

"Why did you choose not to use this particular spell?"

"Because I'm not any good at it. An attempt at it on my own resulted in needing a new shirt."

"Just for the record," the woman on the right said, "Mr. Stroud has received his Sexual Education endorsement, with a ranking of highly skilled." The others nodded at that. David would have blushed, if he could. This wasn't the kind of thing he wanted blurted out in front of the dean.

"Name two magical maladies."

"Shimmer Cough and the Rintorian flu."

"How would you prevent yourself from getting these diseases?"

"The best way to avoid Shimmer Cough is to either avoid people who have it, or use a force field spell, and not to touch them."

"And the Rintorian flu?"

"Don't go to Rintoria."

"Any other means?"

"Not that I know of. Rintorian flu can pass through almost all force fields, and is actually attracted to magical energy, so no magical means of prevention is advisable."

"How dangerous are these diseases?"

"Shimmer Cough is just annoying. As far as I know, no one has ever died from it. The Rintorian flu kills about one in three people who catch it."

"Does this scare you away from going to Rintoria?"

"Why should it? I'm already dead."

The examiner, who had been writing notes on her pad, looked up at him, and then blushed. "Sorry about that."

David smiled in reply.

"Outline the reason for the start of the first were war."

"Ultimately, the war was caused through a misunderstanding of communication style. When King Seth sent his message off to Vrudena, asking about a territorial exchange, he expected a simple yes or no in reply. This is what he received from both Gtharsis and Mirelia. When Vrudena sent back a statement of sovereignty, he misinterpreted it as hostility."

"Wasn't it?"

"Well, in a sense, I guess it was, but it wasn't aggressive hostility. It was merely a statement that, 'this is ours, and you can't have it, and if you try to take it by force, we will fight you.' It is typical of the nature of were communication that it was direct, forceful, and blunt. They weren't being especially hostile... for a were."

"How could the war have been prevented?"

"Ultimately, it couldn't have been. King Seth knew that he needed more room for his people. He could either press Mirelia and Gtharsis for more land, which they probably would not have given, or he could live with an ever-growing crowding problem. Given that he wasn't going to do that, he only had the option of taking land forcibly away from one of his neighbors. Since Gtharsis and Mirelia had both cooperated, and were considered allies, it made no sense for him to attack in those directions. Vrudena had been hostile and uncooperative, or so it had appeared to the king, and so it made the most sense to go north."

"What if I tell you that Vrudenan records showed that, had King Seth simply calmed down and sent a second envoy, the Vrudenans were ready to begin negotiations?"

David considered for a minute. "What I know of Vrudenan culture makes that highly unlikely, but if I take that information as factual, then obviously, King Seth overreacted. Ultimately, he should probably have taken that effort, anyway, even if he did so while preparing for war."

"Why?"

David shrugged. "An envoy contains, what, maybe ten people? Even if they are all killed, when you weigh it against the thousands of lives lost in the war, the possible reward is worth the risk."

The examiners all scribbled more notes. While they did, David asked, "So... was that true? Were the Vrudenans ready to negotiate?"

"No. It was merely a hypothetical," the lady on the right replied.

The man in the middle picked up a piece of paper. "I have here an Affidavit of Competency from one Prof. Samantha Stott. It states that you have demonstrated a level of ability in Potions that far outstrips the licensing requirement, and that you therefore do not need to be tested. You are her apprentice?"

"Yes, sir."

"For how long?"

"Almost a year and a half."

The examiner nodded, and made some more notes.

One of the examiners got up, and pushed a table around to the front. She uncovered it, and there were several plants on it.

"Identify these," the male examiner said.

David stepped forward. "Dragonlace... hornthistle... a lightning fern, this one looks to be an adult... and..." David scratched his head. "I don't recognize the last two."

"How do you make the judgment that the lightning fern is mature?"

"Because my hand doesn't hurt," David said with a smile. "It's relaxed, even though you've been moving it around. It is therefore either ill, which it shows no signs of, or it is mature enough not to be overly stressed by movement."

"Given your personification of plant response, justify the damage we do to them in order to use them in potions."

"Well, first off, my personification is a typical human habit of attributing motives that we can understand to everything. Having said that, a responsible potion maker or herbologist will do as little damage to any one plant as he can get away with, for the health and welfare of the plant. Apart from being a 'nice' thing to do, it's just responsible gardening; if you hurt the plant too much, you'll kill it, and then you don't have that plant to supply you anymore."

"That doesn't justify our use of them in the first place," the examiner pointed out.

"Oh. Well... they're plants. People use plants and animals. It's just part of what we do. We use them for food, clothing, and to help us perform tasks. We try, in general, to do as little harm to them as we can, but our needs, as... well, 'primary species', must come first."

"You believe we outrank all other species?"

"I was just about to qualify that. In Earth, where I come from, yes, I would say so. However, here in Dugerra, there are plenty of species on our level, such as the centaurs, the elves, lots of others, who we should be asking for assistance, rather than demanding."

"So you think it's all right for us to do whatever we want with a plant or animal, because it cannot say no?"

"I think that you should, as I said earlier, do as little harm to it as you can, in order to achieve what you need to achieve. The animal can't say 'yes', either. It is our job to be good stewards of our resources."

"I think this has gone far enough afield," the woman on the left said. "You seem to know a great deal about lightning ferns. Why?"

"I helped Prof. Qwellyn care for them this year."

"Ah. So that would explain this note from her concerning your Herbology knowledge."

"I assume so. As part of my Potions apprenticeship, I spent some time with Prof. Qwellyn, learning about the herbs I would use in my potions. I also spent some time with Healer Hall, learning about the healer-related aspects of potion making."

"I see. Back to Herbology. You have a krickleroot flower. How would you repot this plant?"

"You wouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because there's no such thing as a krickleroot flower. Krickleroot exists entirely underground, feeding off the energy of other plants."

"Very good," she told him.

"So, how would you repot krickleroot, then?" the right-hand woman asked.

"Fill a larger pot about a third full with dirt, take the old pot and dump it into the larger pot, then finish filling with dirt."

"Dump it? That seems rather casual..."

"Krickleroot doesn't care which way is 'up', and the aggressive action of dumping, rather than carefully setting, actually perks the plant, so that it can get nutrients from the new soil, helping it to deal with the stress of repotting."

As the one examiner slid the plant table back out of the way, the male examiner pointed to a door. "Behind that door is a person. In a short while, they are going to walk through that door. Before that happens, I want you to tell me what that individual looks like."

"By what means?" David asked.

"How many means can you think of to do it?"

"Two, one of which is probably considered cheating for purposes of this exam."

"Do tell," the left-hand woman said.

"Well, the first method, and the method you probably want me to use, is Divination. The second method involves me fading into ghost form, walking over to the door, and poking my head through it."

The examiners chuckled at that. "Yes, you're right, that would be cheating. Divination, then, is the preferred method in this instance."

"I'm afraid that I do not have my crystal ball with me," David said.

A snap of the man's fingers, and a table with a crystal ball on it, and a chair on which to sit, appeared in front of David.

"Proceed," the man told him.

David sat down in the chair, and then closed his eyes. He had to spend a bit of extra time relaxing himself, as he was pretty stressed by the exam. Finally, he opened his eyes, and looked into the ball. He stared for a long moment, just to make sure that he was correct in his reading. Finally, he sat back.

"Well?"

"The person on the other side of the door is Prof. Phillips."

The examiner waved his hand at the door, and it opened. Prof. Phillips walked in, smiling.

"You are Prof. Phillips?" the examiner asked.

"Yes, I am," he said.

"Very well." Turning back to David, she asked, "What is your view of Divination, as it relates to the privacy of others?"

David cringed. This was a sticky point for him, still. "As I understand it, it is considered rude to divine anything which would be considered private, without permission. Now there are going to be obvious cases of exception, such as when you are concerned for a person's well-being, or if you're looking into someone else's life with their permission, and you are shown things that happen with others. Ultimately, though, it is up to the diviner not to abuse the skill."

"Do you believe there should be regulations about what can and cannot be divined?"

"How would you enforce them? The only person who knows what the diviner has seen... is the diviner."

"And if all divinations were required to be magically observed?"

"Then the observer has also seen what shouldn't have been seen, and the problem is compounded. Further, much of divination is happenstance. You are often shown things you had no expectation of seeing. Punishing people for something that was not their intent seems foolish."

The examiners made more notes. David wished they'd stop that, even though he knew they had to keep a record of his answers.

The right-hand woman snapped her fingers, and the table and chair, with the gazing crystal, disappeared, to be replaced by a table bearing ten cubes.

"Change the color of each of these, so that you end up with a rainbow of hues. You may use as many or as few as you need."

David pulled out his wand. "Cultum vermello, cultum arancio..." he started, continuing through each of the colors with one cube each. "...cultum corcra..." pausing, David then said, "cultum iridesco." The last cube began to shimmer with an iridescent surface which reflected an entire spectrum all by itself.

"Why not just do that one first?"

"Honestly? I didn't think of it until just now."

As that woman nodded, the other woman said, "Explain the benefit of a spell like megalwyn mallia over a spell such as sakezi negabi... if there is one."

David put his head down and thought very hard, trying to remember what these two spells did. Once he was able to dredge up that information, he looked up. "Megalwyn is a much more specific spell. This means that it requires less visualization from the wizard in order to achieve the exact desired result. Sakezi relies more heavily on the intent of the wizard, and so it is easier to screw it up."

"So why do we use sakezi negabi at all?"

"Convenience and speed. If you're good enough at the visualization, sakezi allows for more changes to happen at once, thus reducing the number of spells you must perform if you are trying for a major, whole-body appearance change."

The male examiner turned to the two observers. "Is either of you willing to be morphed by this student?"

"I would be," Prof. Phillips said immediately. He moved forward to stand next to David.

"You have had Mr. Stroud as a student?"

"Yes, twice."

"So you trust him not to turn you into a rat."

"Unless you tell him to," Prof. Phillips said to the woman, smiling. She blushed. David rolled his eyes.

"Very well. Turn your professor..." she looked at Prof. Phillips, and with a coy smile, said, "into a rat."

David's eyes went wide.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Stroud?" the left-hand woman asked.

"Yes, ma'am. While I do, technically, know the morph for this, I have never completed it successfully. The last time was a near-disaster. I would rather not risk Prof. Phillips on it, since he has helped me in the past."

"I see. So you are reluctant to perform spells that you are unsure of?"

"Where there is danger to someone else, yes, ma'am."

"Very well." She scribbled something in her notes. "What would you feel comfortable turning him into?"

David squirmed a bit. "Anything that is approximately his size and weight."

"Very well. Please turn him into a juvenile forest dragon."

"Yes, ma'am." David gulped, and then turned to his professor, stepping back slightly.

"Sorry about this, professor," David said quietly. Prof. Phillips looked at him encouragingly.

"Osobaza zivotny!" David cried, motioning to Prof. Phillips with his wand. The professor dropped immediately to hands and knees as his neck began to stretch. David looked a little awed as the professor managed a transition into a small forest dragon, though his wings were a bit tattered, rendering him incapable of flight.

"You look a bit shocked, Mr. Stroud," the male examiner told him.

"I am a bit shocked," he admitted. "I had my doubts that would work."

"But can you bring him back, is the question," the left-hand woman said.

"Zurukken!" David said, and Prof. Phillips was soon himself once again.

"Was this the most advanced morph you feel capable of?" the male examiner asked.

"Yes, sir," David lied. He hadn't felt he was capable of that one. That he was, surprised him.

"It is probably best if we move on, then." Another snap of the fingers, and a large bin full of dirt appeared in front of David. He groaned quietly. He knew what this had to be about.

"I wish you to form an arch within this bin, using elemental manipulation."

David sighed. "Yes, sir."

Closing his eyes, David focused on the image of an arch. Once he had that settled, he opened his eyes and stared at the bin of dirt, his hands down at his sides. When he'd collected enough energy, he brought his hands up, sweeping them inward until they met. The dirt, however, didn't follow suit. It blasted upward out of the surface, fountained, and then collapsed back into heaps, leaving no real structure. David sighed again, disappointed.

The right-hand examiner asked, "Would you like a second attempt?"

"If you're offering one, I'll take it," David said.

"Proceed," the man told him.

David tried again, with much the same result. He looked at the examiners. "Sorry. I've only done terramandy successfully once, and that was on my final exam."

"Explain to us, in theory, what you should be doing here."

David did so, detailing the coiling of the energy, and its extension out to include the dirt. He described to them the method of separating the two energy fields, while keeping them connected so that he could control the remote one with the one surrounding him. It took him several minutes to lay out the entire process.

"And yet, knowing all of that, you still cannot make it work," the left-hand woman said.

David shrugged. "I know how you're supposed to hit the bull's-eye with a bow and arrow, too. Doesn't mean I can do it," he said with a grin.

"What's the best method for creating a magical object, charm or enchantment?"

"Enchantment," David said.

"Explain."

"A charm is always connected to the wizard who performed it. While the energy involved is miniscule, if you were to charm a few thousand objects in a permanent way, you would eventually grow magically exhausted. Enchantments do not have this problem, as you are imbuing the object with nature's magical energy, instead of your own."

"If this is the case, then how is it we don't grow magically exhausted, as you put it, from any charm that we don't end explicitly?"

"Because most charms have a built-in time limit. They aren't designed to be permanent. Unless they are specifically crafted otherwise, all charms will eventually wear off."

"I am going to rattle off some spells. I want you to perform them as quickly as you can. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Chosina hono". David did, and a small ball of flame appeared at the end of his wand.

"Remove it," the examiner said. David did so.

"Titali banda". This time, a group of raccoons emerged from David's wand. He ended the spell quickly, before they were overrun.

"Tenaga bado." David set aside his wand, and soon a ball of energy appeared in his hand.

"Extinguish the energy." A quick "uray", and the energy ball was gone.

"lux lucis," the examiner said. As David reached for his wand, Prof. Phillips put his hands over his eyes.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Professor," David said sarcastically, then said, "Lux lucis!" The light was very bright, but not so intense as in the beginning.

"Okay, you may extinguish it."

David did so.

"Why is your professor frightened of your lux lucis spell?"

"In the beginning, I had a lot of trouble with that one. It used to be... very much brighter than that."

"I see."

"You must save the life of a dying man. You cannot cure what's wrong with him yourself. By which method - potion, charm, or enchantment - would you choose to help him?"

"Um," David said, looking over at the dean, who smiled at him.

"What is the problem?" the examiner asked.

David turned back. "I have actually been in that situation, in real life."

"Oh? And which did you choose?"

"Potion."

"Defend that choice."

"Well, in the particular instance, I happened to have a base potion with me. I could not think of any spells that I knew at the time that would have worked... and I've never been any good with enchantments. I certainly couldn't have come up with one on the spot."

"Did the dying man live?"

"Yes."

"What potion did you use, and how did it save his life?"

"I used Dendal Thyme, and, as a sustaining potion, it gave me time to go find a healer."

"I see." More note-scribbling took place.

"Once again, choose between a potion, charm, or enchantment. The situation is a person about to fall off a cliff."

"Well, a charm, obviously."

"Why?"

"A potion is of no use, and an enchantment will take too long."

"There is a levitation potion," the examiner pointed out.

"How would you get it to them?" David asked.

"I never said they were out of your reach. You made an assumption."

David flinched. "Yes, I did. Sorry."

"Someone is fighting vertigo. Choose."

"Charm. Specifically, caput calitatem."

"Shimmer Cough," the examiner said, looking at him expectantly.

David paused. "There is a potion method, and a charm method, for dealing with Shimmer Cough."

"Which would you choose?"

"The potion."

"Why?"

"I am more confident in my potion-making abilities than my spellcasting, and I have time to get the potion right before administering it to the patient."

Much scribbling of notes was made after this statement.

The right-hand woman got up and rolled out another table. This one had on it a small, white rabbit.

"Oh, crap, not this again," David said, fearing he knew what was coming.

"Yes, this again," the left-hand woman said. "Kill the rabbit."

"Kill the rabbit. Kill the rabbit. You guys sound like Elmer Fudd."

"Who?"

"It's an Earth reference. Nevermind. I am not going to kill the rabbit."

"Why not?"

"Because the rabbit hasn't done anything to deserve death. Unless he's secretly some crazed zombie rabbit and you haven't told me."

"Why does the rabbit need to have done something in order for you to kill it? You said that it was up to us to decide the fate of the animals and plants," the right-hand woman said snidely.

"I also said we need to do as little harm as possible!" David said heatedly. "There is no reason for me to kill the rabbit."

"Except that it is part of your licensing exam."

"That is not sufficient reason to cause a death."

"You would jeopardize your wizarding license to save the life of a dumb animal?" the male examiner asked.

"He's no dumber than you, if you think this is an acceptable way to test someone's ability to do magic," David snapped.

"If you choose not to perform this task, there is a good chance that you will fail your licensing exam," the left-hand woman said.

"Then I guess I'll be going back to prison. I'm not killing the damned rabbit."

"Are there any circumstances under which you would kill that rabbit right now?"

"If you morph him into a monster that tries to eat me, maybe," David said.

"So, self-preservation is sufficient cause to kill?"

"Obviously."

There were some more notes scribbled furiously on their parchments.

"You may go," the male examiner finally said. "The results of your exam will be made available on Saturday, during the licensure ceremony."

"Um... okay." David nodded to the examiners, then to the dean and Prof. Phillips. Then he turned and, taking a deep breath, walked out of the room.

Well, shit.

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

"I don't want to go in there," Olissa said, worried. The group stopped short of their destination, Firebird Stadium, where the licensure ceremony was being held.

"No one's said anything about whether we passed," David said. "How do they inform you if you failed to pass licensure?"

Jim said, "They pull you out of line when you walk through. Then they take you off to a private room to review your score. Then they leave you alone to bawl your eyes out."

David looked at him funny. Jim replied, "My mother's description." David nodded, then turned back to Olissa.

"We've been over this. You did your best, right?"

Olissa nodded nervously.

"Then, whatever happens, you have nothing to be ashamed of."

"But my parents came all this way. I actually told them not to, just in case, but they didn't listen."

"That's on their heads, not yours. C'mon, you've got to find out sooner or later, anyway. Better to get it over with."

"I guess."

The group continued their journey to the stadium. The parents and guests were entering through the spectators' entrances, but David and his friends all walked in the athletes' entrance and joined the line of students waiting to learn their fate.

"Name please?" the person at the door asked.

"Olissa Volaire," she said, her voice quivering. The man looked down his list.

"Sit anywhere behind the first two rows," the man said. "Name please?" the man said to David, ignoring the immense look of relief on Olissa's face.

Once everyone had been cleared into the stadium, to the utter joy of all of them, they moved together to find seats. David leaned forward to ask Gwen, "How does this work, exactly?"

"They call us, we walk up, they hand us our license, and we go sit back down."

"So, just like a graduation."

"Yeah. Also just like a graduation, there will be a bunch of talking before they get down to the reason we're here."

David nodded, and sat back. He leaned over to Olissa and said, "Told ya."

"Oh, shut up," she said with a grin.

It wasn't too much longer before the ceremony started. First, the dean got up and talked about the significance of their license, and the licensing process in general. After that, the licensing bureau representative got up and had some words to say about the quality of the students receiving their license this year. After that, there was a brief concert by the school's orchestra, just to delay the inevitable, or so David felt. He hated these things.

Finally, the dean returned to the podium.

"And now, as I read your name, please come up and receive your license. The names will be read off in alphabetical order. Diana Abbot..."

The names were read off slowly, about one every five seconds. The problem, as David saw it, was that this would take nearly an hour.

"... With distinction, Michael Ardmore. A license with distinction designates a student who has passed their licensing exam with a grade of 90 or better. Benjamin Astor..." the dean continued.

Leaning over to ask Gwen, David said, "Does distinction actually get you anything?"

"A better job, if you stay in Dugerra. Other than that, no."

"It's really worth a better job?" David asked.

"Well, since everyone has a license if they can work in Dugerra, employers often look at your actual score to compare applicants."

"And, since she's not mentioning them, how will we know what our score is?"

"It's printed on your license."

"...Simon Crowley..."

David and his friends clapped as Simon got up to make his way to the podium.

"...With distinction, Devyn, no last name..." Gwen applauded loudly, and the others applauded as well, as Devyn got up to receive her license. She did not look at David as she passed him.

"You two still aren't talking, are you?' Gwen asked sadly.

David shook his head. "She sees the time I've spent with Olissa as proof she was right."

"Are you two dating?"

"No. Our relationship is complicated."

"Aren't they all," Gwen said. David chuckled, and sat back.

"...Jim Gillenham..." David slugged him on the arm as the rest applauded.

Before Jim made it back to his seat, the dean called out, "...With distinction, Gwen Hasterscant..." The group applauded, and Devyn gave her a brief kiss. David realized it would be a long wait, now, before any more of his friends was called up.

"...Amanda Master..." David applauded at that. Though he had seen very little of her this year, he was happy that she had managed to get her license.

David was almost catatonic by the time Dean Lengel called out, "...With distinction, David Stroud..." Olissa nudged him, and as David rose, nearly the entire student body present applauded. David blinked, uncomprehending, at his sudden popularity. He made his way to the platform, and waited in line with the others.

There was a Ministry of Education official handing out the licenses, and three professors there waiting to shake hands. David took his license parchment, shook the official's hand, and moved on.

The professors present were Prof. Thropp, Prof. Rutherford, and Prof. Stott. David shook Prof. Thropp's hand, and she merely congratulated him. Prof. Rutherford smiled warmly at him as she took his hand.

"I knew you could do it," she told him.

"Thank you, ma'am," he replied. He then moved on to take Sam's hand. "Boy, this feels weird," he said to her with a grin.

"It does. Don't worry, I'll give you a proper reward later. I'll catch up with you after the ceremony, so don't leave campus until I do."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, winking at her.

"Go on," she said, grinning at him.

David made his way back to his seat.

"What's your grade?" Jim asked.

"I don't know, I haven't looked. What was yours?"

"A 62," Jim said morosely.

"Ouch. Isn't the cut-off a 60?"

"Yeah."

"Well, at least you made it," David said. "Cheer up. You beat your mom..."

Jim grinned briefly and chuckled. Then he said, "So, what did you get? I bet you got like a 99. Devyn's the best so far. She got a 97."

David opened his and looked. His score was marked prominently in a circle in the bottom-center of his license. "I got a 91," he said.

"Damn! Not bad."

"...Nate Tipjon..." David and his friends applauded as Nate got up to get his license.

"...Flo Tractus..." Dean Lengel intoned, continuing on with the litany of student names. David and the others applauded.

David said, "Wait... she didn't get distinction? She seemed so damned sure of herself."

"That can get you into a lot of trouble," Simon said. "You go in cocky, and end up forgetting what you need to know."

"I'll have to ask her how she did," David said. "Or maybe you can do it for me," David said to Jim. Jim blushed. He was still uncomfortable talking to Flo.

"...Olissa Volaire..." David gave her a hug, and applauded as she got up to make her way to the stage.

"No distinction for her," Devyn said. David knew it was a snide comment aimed at him, so he ignored it.

When Olissa made her way back to her seat, David gave her another hug. "How'd you do?" he asked her.

"84," she replied, a bit dumbstruck. "I never thought it'd be that high. Not after missing a month." She hugged David and wept in joy. He rubbed her back while smiling up at the audience, not that he could see anyone there he knew. Certainly his own parents were nowhere in those stands.

Finally, Dean Lengel reached the end of the list of students, and eventually they all made it back to their seats.

Dean Lengel said, "For a great many of you, this is the end of your time here at the Woodward Academy. While I am sad to see you go, I take pride that you leave here with the best knowledge, the highest ethics, and the pride of being a Woodward student. Congratulations, licensees!"

At that, the entire stadium erupted in cheers. Fireworks exploded just above the clear dome, and the orchestra struck up a happy tune. All the students rose. David carefully tucked his license into an inner coat pocket, and then he turned to Olissa.

"Congratulations."

"I couldn't have done it without your help," she told him. She gave him a kiss, brief but strong, and then hugged him again.

When she let him go, he said, "Come on, guys, let's get out of here. Let's head outside and find our... well, your parents. I'm quite sure mine aren't here."

Jim and Simon chuckled at that, and the group all headed merrily off, out the way they had come in, and emerged into the sunlight. They were no longer apprentices, but fully licensed magicians, able to perform, legally, whatever spell they so pleased.

The small group gathered by a fountain, where they stood and talked. Nate's parents were the first to find them all, and they all greeted each other.

"Will you be back next year?" David asked Nate.

Nate shook his head. "I haven't decided where I want to live, so before I continue school here, I'm going to go to college in Earth for a couple years. After that, I'll decide which place I want to live in. I might be back, so if you stick around long enough, you might see me again."

"You've got a lot of Earth-stuff to learn," David said. "Give me a holler if you have questions."

"Will do, thanks," Nate said.

"Nate, we should really get going. It's a long way home."

"Okay, Mom. Hey, where's Neomithy?"

"When did you see him last?"

"I left him out here when we went inside. I didn't figure he wanted to be crowded."

"Yeah, just like Jailla."

Nate moved a little away from the group, looking around. He called out, "Mith! MITH!"

At that, a pretty young woman turned around, from where she was talking to someone. "Yes?" she asked.

Nate blushed crimson. "Not you, sorry. I'm trying to find my owl."

As the woman smiled and turned away, David said, "Sheesh."

Finally, Neomithy came flying down out of the sky, swooped in and landed on Nate's outstretched arm. Having found his familiar, Nate turned back to the group.

"Guys, it's been a great year. Well, except the part about nearly getting killed by that wizard. Hey, what's happening with him?"

"The trial happened last month," Simon said. "They decided they didn't need our testimony, so we weren't involved."

"Wait... how could they not need our testimony?"

"He confessed," Simon said, shrugging. "They sent him off to Barnard Hill for a while."

"Good." Nate turned to David. "What about Cherise?"

"Her trial's going to be delayed until she's fully evaluated. I guess that might take a little while, so there's no date set yet."

"Well, either way, I hope she's not free to trouble people any time soon. David, great to meet you. Had a blast this year. Take care, you guys," he said. They all wished him well, and then he and his parents moved off.

"It's kinda sad," Gwen said. "Like losing friends."

Suddenly, David was accosted from behind. A pair of feminine arms that he recognized very well enveloped him, and lifted him off the ground.

"It's a good thing I don't actually need to breathe," he said good-naturedly, and then Giendia set him down. David turned to see both her and her father. "Hi! I didn't expect to see you here."

"You think I'd miss your licensing ceremony?" she asked. "Congratulations!" She hugged him again, and gave him a long kiss. David smiled at her when she let him go.

"I'm glad you were here. I'm happy to see you. You, too, Dubnin."

"Congratulations, David," Dubnin said.

"Hmph. No centaur girls came to give me congratulatory kisses," Simon said, twisting David's tail.

"No human ones, either," David said, shooting right back at Simon. Simon grabbed his chest, acting as if he was mortally wounded. The group laughed.

"Does this mean you can come visit more often?" Giendia asked.

"Yes, it does," another voice responded. David turned to see both Garibaldi and his wife.

"Mr. Garibaldi," David said properly. More genially, he said, "Hi, Zyla."

She smiled, and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"Wait a minute," Garibaldi grumped. "I'm the one who's been stuck with running you around and all, but she's the one who gets the warm greeting?"

David knew that Garibaldi was teasing him, so he played along. "Really, Mr. Garibaldi, if you were me, which one of you would you greet warmly? I see you all the time. Seeing Zyla's a special occasion."

Zyla blushed, and Garibaldi laughed. "Okay, okay, fair enough. Congrats, David. With distinction, too. The official who gave me mine nearly sneered at me when he handed it over, the grade was so bad."

"Worse than a 62?" Jim asked.

"Ever so slightly," he confirmed. Changing the subject to something more pleasant, Garibaldi said, "Apart from wanting to see you get your license, I do have an official job to do, as well."

"Oh?"

Garibaldi reached into his coat pocket, and withdrew a folded parchment. "Your release papers. This certifies that you have officially fulfilled your court-mandated sentence, and that you no longer have to report to the management facility. You don't, technically speaking, need these, but it's nice to have paperwork to cover your backside."

"Amen to that," David said, taking them in hand. He looked at them briefly, but it was all legal mumbo-jumbo, so he just stuck them in his coat pocket with his license.

"You will be coming to stay with us this summer, right?" Zyla asked him.

"For part of it. I have a few people to visit."

"Like us," Gwen said. "If you don't, Mom will hunt you down. You can come home with us from here, if you want. Mom said."

"I can't. I have a bit of work to finish up here, actually. Dean Lengel wants me to help put the final touches on The WASH."

"The WASH?" Garibaldi asked.

"The Woodward Academy Student Handbook," David explained. "There are just some minor final details that we couldn't get done because I got so busy at the end of the year."

"Helping me," Olissa grumped.

"So long as you passed," David said, "it doesn't matter."

Just then, Prof. Stott showed up.

"Hey, Sam."

"Hey, yourself. And congratulations. And this," she took his face in her hands and pressed her lips firmly to his. Her tongue quickly invaded his mouth, and the two kissed for a solid minute.

"Hmm," David said, when they finally separated. "I like the way you say congratulations." The group laughed.

"I'm very proud of you," she told him seriously. "With all the crap you went through these two years, you could have been forgiven for not being able to complete licensure. But to not only pass, but pass with distinction..."

"Guess not killing that goddamned rabbit didn't matter much, after all," David said with a grin.

"Oh, it mattered," Garibaldi said. "You're not supposed to kill the rabbit."

"What?" Gwen, Devyn, Olissa, and Jim all cried at once.

"It's an ethics test. They want to see how much it takes to get you to kill a completely innocent creature. If it's too easy for you, it indicates a certain mindset. In fact, if you show actual enjoyment at doing it, you probably won't get your license. Almost no one, however," Garibaldi said, turning to David, "refuses to do it altogether. I'm impressed."

David pushed out his bottom lip, and nodded his head.

"David," Sam said, "Did I hear you say you were staying here for a couple days?"

"Yeah. Dean Lengel asked me to."

"In that case, could you stay a few more? I'd like us to get caught up on some apprenticeship work you missed. Especially since you probably won't have time this summer like you did last summer to work on it."

"Okay."

"If you try to weasel out on Mom..." Gwen warned.

David chuckled. "Tell you what. How about if I come to your house on June 1st?"

"I'll ask Mom, but that should be okay. Just, expect to stay for a few weeks, okay? She wants to show you around a bit of Dugerra, since you've been cooped up for so long."

"Okay."

The group chatted a while before Simon's parents showed up. They hugged their son in congratulations, but Mrs. Crowley was bearing a large book under her arm.

"David. Congratulations," Mrs. Crowley said. He shook her hand, and then Mr. Crowley's.

"David," Mr. Crowley said, "Simon told us you're into potions. Is that right?"

"He's my apprentice," Sam told them. They both recognized her, and so understood the relevance.

"In that case, we'd like you to take this." Mrs. Crowley handed over the book. On the cover, it said, "101 of the World's Tastiest Delights".

"Um, thank you... but what has this got to do with potions? And does this mean I don't get any more brownies?" he asked.

Mrs. Crowley chuckled, but then she tapped the book three times and uttered, "Apocalypsis." The book suddenly morphed in David's hands. The size stayed the same, but the front cover changed to a gold-inlaid leather, with but one word on it: "Galen".

Sam actually stepped back. "Oh, my god," she said.

David opened the book. It was filled with potions and herbal concoctions that weren't quite potions, as well as pages of musings and ideas. David closed it again, a bit stunned.

Before he could say anything, Mrs. Crowley tapped the book three times again and said, "Apocrypsis." The book immediately morphed back into the cookbook.

"You were right," Mr. Crowley said. "We had it all this time, and never even knew it."

"Wait a minute," Jim objected. "That little spell is all it required to find this thing?"

"No. First you had to break the enchantment that was put on it, so that it could not be changed. Now that this enchantment is gone, yes, the apocalypsis and apocrypsis spells will show and hide the Lost Book of Galen."

"Why me?" David asked.

"None of us is a potion maker," Mr. Crowley said. "Simon has shown no interest in potions, either. This book should be in the hands of someone who can make best use of it. After what you did for Simon, and with you being a demighost, and able to protect the book literally forever... we couldn't think of anyone better to have it."

"I'm... I'm honored. Thank you. I will put this in a very safe place."

The Crowleys nodded.

"We should get going, Simon," his mother said.

"Do you guys have to go?" Gwen asked. "My mom was trying to arrange for a party down in town."

"Well... I supposed we could stay a little while..." Mr. Crowley allowed.

Jim's parents, who had actually been hesitant to approach the group, finally got up the nerve. They came to their son, and hugged him.

"Mom, Dad, this is David. David, these are my parents."

"Mr. Gillenham, Mrs. Gillenham."

Jim introduced his parents around to the rest of the group.

"Jim, we've got to get going."

"You sure you don't want to stay for the party?" Gwen asked.

Mrs. Gillenham looked decidedly queasy. "We can't."

"Jim, you gonna be back next year?" David asked.

"Yeah, I think so. I'm gonna have to buckle down some, if I want citizenship, though. That's even harder than licensure."

"Yikes. Well, see you next year, then, I hope."

"Take it easy. Have a good summer."

"You, too."

"We should be going, ourselves," Dubnin told his daughter.

"Okay, Father. David... will I see you soon?"

"I'll try to get Sam to bring me down to the village before I leave."

"I thought you were no longer restricted to campus," she said.

"Well, I'm not, but I still can't travel alone in Dugerra. I don't have my travel endorsement."

"Oh. Well, okay. So long as you come and see me."

"I'll do my best."

She gave him another kiss, and then the centaurs trotted off.

"You can go that far on your own," Sam told him. "No one will object."

"Oh?"

"Just don't go any further than that... unless Dubnin is with you. Giendia's not quite old enough to qualify as a proper escort."

"I see."

"When did your mother wish us to go to this party?" Devyn asked Gwen.

"Well, basically whenever we get there. We could go now, if you guys want to."

Penny took this opportunity to make an appearance. "Before you do, David, there is something else you must do."

"What's that?" David asked.

"First, you must let me congratulate you on your licensure."

David faded, because he knew what she meant. Once he was a ghost, she embraced him, and they kissed. Finally, however, she let him go.

"Second, Lord Woodward wishes to see you, in the Great Hall."

"Meep," David said, a bit nervous. "Why does his Lordship want to see me?"

"That is between you and him."

David faded back to his solid self.

"We can wait for you, David..." Gwen said.

David shook his head. "No. I want to have the pleasant experience of leaving school grounds completely by myself. You guys go on ahead. Where is the party?"

"In the Slyther Inn."

"Okay. I'll be along as soon as I'm done talking with Lord Woodward." David turned to Sam. "Will you be at the party?"

"Am I invited?" she asked Gwen.

"Absolutely! Any professor we've had in the last two years is welcome."

"In that case, I'll be there... right after I let a few others know to show up."

"Great!" Gwen enthused. "Let's go!"

"I've got to go find my parents first," Olissa said. "They're here somewhere. We'll come down as soon as I can find them."

"Good deal. See you in a bit."

The main group headed off, and then David walked with Penny.

"Do you know what Lord Woodward wants?"

"No. He just asked me to bring you up to him after the ceremony."

"Why didn't he come himself?"

"He doesn't leave the castle grounds."

"Oh."

After that, they walked in companionable silence. As soon as they reached the Academy level, where there were no students to be upset by it, David faded to ghost form. He took Penny's hand until they reached the castle keep.

"I'm proud of you, David. I hope you'll continue to come see me, now that you've got your license."

"I'll be back next year, Penny. I'll still need your ghostly guidance from time to time."

"Good." She kissed him passionately, and then moved off, fading into invisibility.

David turned and entered the Great Hall. Lord Woodward was sitting on his throne, up on the dais. David had always thought it was odd that he sat on a throne, as he wasn't a king, but then he figured, it was the Lord's castle, and he could sit on a toilet seat if he wanted to.

When David reached the steps to the dais, he bowed to Lord Woodward.

"You wanted to see me, Lord Woodward?"

"Yes, David. Congratulations on your licensure."

"Thank you, sir."

"I was wondering if anyone had yet educated you in ghostly wizardry."

"If you're referring to the kind of magic that applies strictly to ghosts, then, no sir, no one has."

"Would you care to learn?"

"Right now?" David asked.

"Well, no, obviously not right now. Take quite a bit of time. Several weeks, for the basics. Years for mastery, of course, just like regular wizardry."

"I would certainly be interested, sir."

"What does your schedule look like?"

"Well, I've made plans to visit with several of my friends over the summer."

"Do you have any free time?"

"Yes, I could carve out a few weeks, easily."

"Good. I would like to see you here, mid-summer, to begin your training. You will stay here, in the castle."

"Yes, sir."

"When do you think you might arrive?"

"Would late June be acceptable, sir?"

"Yes. I will see you then. Now, off with you. I'm sure you have celebrating to do."

David smiled. "Yes, sir."

David left the castle, and made his way down to the terrace. There were still plenty of people around, and so David had faded back to solid form. After heading to his room to drop off the Lost Book of Galen, he walked over to the entrance lift, and made his way down to the ground level.

As David stepped out of the cave that marked the entrance to the school, he realized that, for the first time, he was off school grounds, unescorted, and legal.

God, it felt good.

David whistled all the way to the party.

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