The Woodward Academy, Year 4

Chapter 5: October

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"Go on in, she's waiting for you," Tracy said. David nodded, and then knocked on the dean's door. When she responded, he went in.

"You wanted to see me, ma'am?" he asked, noting that there were two other people present in the room.

"Yes, come in, David." To the other two, she said, "This is David Stroud, the school Information Officer. He's a fourth-year student, and he's done a lot of work toward helping new arrivals cope with the school. He's also just recently become a potions master, so he knows the school, and his magic, quite well."

Turning to David, Dean Lengel said, "David, this is Mr. and Mrs. Flanders. Mr. Flanders is feeling a bit anxious about the school, so I'd like you to show them around, answer any questions they may have, and just generally help them get comfortable with the idea of the school."

David frowned. "I don't understand... isn't this what orientation is for?"

"Well, orientation is actually for the students, not really the parents. Very few parents attend. We do normally have sessions for parents, but Mr. Flanders just married into the family, so he hasn't had a chance to adjust to the idea of magic and such."

"Oh, okay. Well, I've been there, haven't I?" David said with a grin. Dean Lengel smiled at him in return.

David turned to the other two. "Okay, if you'll come with me, we'll have a tour of the grounds. While we're walking, feel free to ask any questions you may have." To the dean, he asked, "What do I do when we're done with the tour?"

"You should come back here. The Flanderses are free to leave, or visit their sons, or whatever they like."

"Yes, ma'am."

David stuck a pixie stick into his mouth as he led the two people out of Beckett Hall. He wasn't sure exactly what he should tell these folks, so he decided to ask a few questions of his own.

"Okay, Mr. Flanders... what seems to be the real problem? Why does this all make you uncomfortable?"

"I'm a physicist. What you're suggesting is just not possible. Magic violates all the laws of nature!"

"You mean, it violates the current laws, as written down by man," David corrected. "Two hundred years ago, the laws of nature didn't involve relativity or quantum mechanics."

"Okay, I'll grant you that, but you're talking about just a complete violation of the whole system."

"Magic is energy," David said, as he motioned them to walk with him. "What we learn to do here is to manipulate that energy, to perform tasks. You do the same thing with the energy you have access to. Your body manipulates its environment, with heat, with your mild EM field, other things. The manipulation of the magic energy is pretty much the same."

"Then why isn't it obvious to science?"

"Because a long time ago, someone, somewhere, convinced scientists that magic wasn't real, and so science has been doing its very best to ignore the magical energy field. Instead, you've wasted your time trying to find the Higgs Boson, which, whether it exists or not, isn't likely to actually make any difference in anyone's life except that of the researchers. Magic, on the other hand, can have a rather drastic effect on its users."

"And why is it that only some people get to learn magic?" he asked.

"Only some people are capable of manipulating the field directly. Others simply can't access it. I have a feeling it was one of those people who couldn't access it, who was envious of those who could, who convinced everyone that the wizards were faking it."

"Can you prove to me that magic exists?"

"You made it all the way to Beckett Hall without seeing proof of magic?" David asked incredulously. "Heck, you're about to ride on a rock lift. It has no visible means of support, and it gets surrounded by a magical protection field."

"All of which could be written off as advanced technology."

"Okay, so what would convince you of magic's reality? Do I need to pull a rabbit out of a hat?"

"Can you actually do that?" Mrs. Flanders asked, curious.

"Yes. In at least three different ways."

"Three different ways?" Mr. Flanders asked.

"There are different forms of magic," David explained. "Different... categories? I know of three different methods for filling a hat with what is either a real rabbit, or something that certainly looks like a rabbit."

"Any halfway decent stage magician can pull that off, though."

"Which is why I wasn't suggesting it seriously. What would convince you?"

"Make something disappear. I mean, really disappear," Mr. Flanders said. "In such a way that I can see it, feel it, touch it. Not at a distance, something right here, between us."

"Fair enough," David said. They stepped off the rock lift, and David walked them over to a picnic table.

David motioned them to sit down at the table, and he did likewise, sitting across from them.

"Mrs. Flanders, could you pick something from your purse? Anything will do."

"What for?" she asked.

"If it's something you brought with you, then it can't have been previously messed with in order to fool you into thinking it has disappeared."

"Good point," Mr. Flanders agreed. Mrs. Flanders rummaged through her purse, and came out with an eye shadow pencil.

"Okay, place it on the table." Mrs. Flanders did so. David said, "Now, I want you to keep your attention on the pencil, but I am also going to keep both of my hands within your view at all times. This way, you know there is no sleight of hand going on, and I'm not triggering anything. My left hand, I will rest on the table palm facing upward, so you know there is nothing in that hand. My right hand is necessary to perform the task, and it will go above the pencil, but I will not block your view of the pencil at any time. Fair enough?"

"Fair enough," Mr. Flanders agreed, watching the pencil closely.

David lifted his right hand, holding it above the pencil, but making sure that he wasn't blocking Mr. Flanders' view. He silently said a conjuring spell, and suddenly, with a soft pop, the pencil vanished right before their eyes.

"Holy shit," Mr. Flanders said quietly.

"Can you bring it back, or has it been destroyed?" Mrs. Flanders asked.

"It's just been... moved. It's been put in a special place where I keep things I want to have with me. I can bring it back at any time."

"Do it," Mr. Flanders challenged. David silently chanted the charm, and, with another soft pop and a slight flash of light, the pencil was once again sitting in the middle of the table. "Well, I'll be a son of a..."

"I should point out," David said as Mrs. Flanders put her pencil away, "that this is fairly advanced magic. Conjuring isn't actually taught until your third year here."

"Can you show us a class in progress?" Mr. Flanders asked.

David winced. "What kind of class would you want to see?"

"I want to see students all doing something."

David considered for a long moment, then stood up. "Okay, come on. I'll take you to a TEM class. That's usually pretty visual."

They walked over to Hughes Hall, and down to Prof. Rutherford's classroom. David poked his head in, to see that she was in the midst of a pyromandy lesson.

"Can I help you, David?" she asked, surprised to see him there.

"I have a couple school visitors with me, who would like to observe a class in action. Mind if we step in for a couple minutes?"

"Not at all. Just try to stay out of the way."

"Of course." David motioned them in, and Mr. Flanders goggled. The students were performing the dancing flame lesson, so there were a lot of candles with flames waving back and forth.

"Couldn't this just be wind?" Mr. Flanders asked.

David pointed to two candles, not three feet apart. They were dancing in opposite directions. "A wind would be more consistent, don't you think? More to the point..." David tapped one student on the shoulder, and said, "Could you stop for a second?"

The student lowered her hand, and immediately her flame returned to a normal, upright burning position. David took note that Mr. Flanders had seen that, and then he turned to the girl. "Thank you. You can go back to it, now."

She nodded at him, and returned to her task. Immediately, the flame started to dance again.

David motioned the Flanderses out into the hall.

"How far along were those students? What year are they?"

"They're a mix. But that is a third-semester TEM class. Just like any college, you don't have to take classes in a specific order. For instance, I didn't start taking TEM until my second year. Some of my friends took it in their first year."

"Are there any required courses?"

"Yes and no. The only classes you're absolutely required to take are the Basic Spells Curriculum. That involves Charms and Hexes in the fall, and Enchantments and Curses in the spring. There are, however, some other classes which they strongly encourage you to take. They like us to take both of the Magical Economics classes, to get in at least one Potions class, and they encourage you to take either TEM or Metamorphosis. Also, if you stay for four years, you'll need at least one history class, the Civics class. That's necessary if you're going to pass your citizenship exam."

"Wait a minute... what do you mean, citizenship exam? My sons are American citizens already by birth."

"But you're not in the United States right now, Mr. Flanders. You're in a country named Callamandia, in a world called Dugerra. There are various stages of wizarding licenses. After your second year, you take a test for your basic wizarding license. If you pass that, then you can perform magic whenever and wherever you like. Up until that point, you can only do magic on campus.

"After your third year, if you pass the exam, you are allowed to travel, unescorted, through Dugerra. Before that, you have to be escorted by a citizen. You test for citizenship after your fourth year. If you pass that test, you are a Callamandian citizen, and you can choose to live in Dugerra, if you want to. Up until that point, you can't actually live here, except on campus. Of course, I'm making the assumption that you pass the test when you take it the first time. Lots of people don't, and that will push back all the other tests."

"So, if you get to be a citizen after four years, why is this an eight-year college?" Mr. Flanders wanted to know.

"There are additional certifications and licenses to be obtained. For instance, after your fifth year, you can test to become a business owner. The longer you stay, the more licensing you can receive."

"Why learn this stuff? What use is it?"

David chuckled.

"Why is that funny?"

"Because I am regularly faced with bits of magic that remind me just how grateful I am to live in this world, instead of Earth. Magic makes a great many things much easier. For instance, right now, I'm carrying every one of my textbooks with me, along with my notebook, quills, parchment... in essence, I have everything I need to study or go to class. But I'm not carrying it physically, so I don't have that pain in my shoulder or neck. Here, let me show you." David conjured his backpack out of his Conjuring Room, into his hands. He opened it, to show them all the books inside. It was clearly quite heavy. When he was finished, he conjured it away again.

Walking them out of the building, he said, "During my potions apprenticeship, I invented a potion that allows you to breathe underwater, without any gear. Imagine being able to go diving... without all that heavy equipment along. There is healing magic which puts 'modern medicine' firmly in its place. Morphing magic can allow you to change one thing into another, which is very helpful if you have limited space. And, of course, there is divination, which allows you to know things that you would otherwise not be able to know.

"Which is not to say that a lot of magic isn't frivolous, but how much of technology is really useless junk? Magic is Dugerra's technology. Only it's mostly non-polluting, infinitely renewable, and doesn't cost anything."

"So, if that's the case, how does anyone actually run a business here? If you can create your own items, why buy them?"

"Well, first off, not every wizard can do every kind of magic. For instance, I'm not very good at morphing things, myself. I can do the basics, but some of the more complex feats are beyond me. Second, there is only so much time in the day. It takes time to make potions, or craft spells, or to heal people. Why don't people in Earth perform all their own basic necessities? Conceivably, they could... but it's just not efficient to do so. It's the same thing here."

"I guess that does make sense. Can you show us what our boys are learning right now?"

"Do you have a copy of their schedules?" Mrs. Flanders handed them over, and David looked at them. "Chances are they're at lunch at the moment. Are you hungry?"

"Starving," Mrs. Flanders said.

David led them over to Byron Hall. They looked around, and finally they spotted their two sons. David led them over, and motioned them to sit down before he sat himself.

"Mom! Ned!" one of the boys, named Rod, exclaimed. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Your step-dad needed a bit of reassurance about your training," David explained. The two boys nodded.

Suddenly, one of the pixies popped in, and a menu appeared in front of the two parents, both of whom jumped, and weren't sure where to look. Their sons laughed, and David tried to hide his grin.

"What's this?" Mr. Flanders asked.

"Your menu. The cafeteria serves several options at every meal."

"And... how do I order?"

"Just tell her what you want," David said, motioning to the pixie. The parents did, rather hesitantly, and then the pixie popped out of existence.

"What... was that?" Mr. Flanders asked.

"A pixie. She's your waitress. There are magical creatures in service throughout the school. Centaurs are part of the postal system. Fairies of various kinds perform all sorts of tasks. Pegs provide transportation. There are others, as well."

"And they are in... servitude?"

"Not the way you mean. Creatures born out of magic tend to feel a desire to serve. The centaurs are hired workers. The fairies live on the campus, and they provide their services because they want to. The pegs are... well, not really domesticated, but there's a long-standing friendship between pegs and people. There are no slaves here, but there are creatures who help out of their own free will."

The parents were startled again when their food popped in. They continued to pepper David with questions while they ate. The two sons looked a bit uncomfortable about the whole thing, but they looked to David with gratitude for taking it all in stride.

"Well, I must say, I do feel a lot better about things," Mr. Flanders admitted. "But... what was it I read in that one paper, about some kind of undead creature living at the school? Some kind of abomination?"

Rod and his brother, Todd, both groaned and buried their head in their hands. David chuckled at them. "I believe you're referring to the demighost?" David asked Mr. Flanders.

"Yes, that's what it was called. Is it safe for my sons to be around something like that?"

"Ned..." Todd started.

David held up his hand to stop him. He turned to Mr. Flanders and replied with a smile, "You tell me. You've been talking to him for nearly an hour now."

David loved the look of shock on their faces.

-----

"So, how'd it go?" Dean Lengel asked when David returned to her office. Mr. and Mrs. Flanders stayed with their sons to finish lunch.

"Okay. He just didn't believe magic was real. Once we got past that with a little conjuring, it was easier to deal with him."

"Good. I'm glad you were able to help him out. How are your classes going?"

"No big problems so far," David assured her.

"Are you handling the extra class all right?"

"My Sword and Staff class is actually helping. It's kind of a stress release."

Dean Lengel nodded. "Good. I'm glad this year seems to be going well for you. Thank you for taking up your lunch period to lead them around. I try not to take our Information Officer out of class, but it does mean that you miss meals from time to time."

"Well, luckily for you, your current IO doesn't get hungry, so it was no big deal."

Dean Lengel chuckled. "Thanks, David. Have a good one."

"You, too."

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"I don't get it. How am I supposed to conjure into a space I can't even see?" the guy asked David.

David replied, "You just have to feel it. This is the hardest part of conjuring... well, conjuring in the 'real world', anyway. You have to connect with the place you're sending the object to."

"Hey, what if we're sending it to someone else's room? If we're then looking in on where we're putting it, isn't that an invasion of privacy?"

David shook his head. "You're not actually going to see anything. You're not doing this visually. When you make the proper connection, it's a sense of... availability. Besides, do you know how to peek into someone's room, without using hydromancy?"

"Ummm... no."

"Okay, then," David said with a grin. "Now, close your eyes. That will help you shut out external distractions. Now, push your mind outward, in the direction of the box. Find the energy of the box, and then slip inside that energy. Find the spot that suggests availability, and center your thoughts there. Then, perform the conjuring."

The student did as instructed. The wooden cube he was using ended up embedded in the side wall of the box.

"Ugh!" the student said. David tried not to chuckle. He conjured the cube out of the box's wall, and set it back on the table.

"You missed. Try again," David said with a smile.

"But I did what you told me to!"

"Your focus must have wavered near the end. With a target so small as this box, your precision is key."

"Then why are we working with it, instead of like a big room or something?"

"Because if you have the precision to get it inside the box, then you can get it inside of larger things... and this will fit in the classroom. Believe me, it gets harder after this. The box gets smaller."

"Shit," the guy muttered.

"C'mon, try it again."

The guy did, and this time, the cube landed inside the box.

"Good work! Now, keep doing that, over and over again, until you can do it every time. If you want a real challenge, there are squares drawn on the bottom of the box. Try to get your cube to land inside of them."

"Yeah, right!" the guy said, reaching in to take the cube. David grinned, and moved on.

David moved from student to student. Prof. Blackstone was doing the same on the other side of the room. By the end of the class period, they had managed to spend time with each one.

Prof. Blackstone said, "Okay, good work, everyone. You're making progress. I want you to practice this at least twice, for a half-hour each time, between now and the next class. More than a half-hour starts to wear you out, but the long stretch of practice does help ingrain these skills in your mind. Also, read Chapter 4 in your book. Don't worry, it's short. Next time, we'll expand upon this skill... or rather, contract upon it, as the boxes next time will be about half this size."

The students all groaned, and Prof. Blackstone grinned. "All right, see you next class. You are dismissed." Prof. Blackstone motioned to David as the other students were filing out. David walked over to him.

"Anyone having particular difficulties that you saw?" the professor asked.

"Tony didn't manage to actually get the cube in the box."

Prof. Blackstone nodded. "Anyone doing especially well?"

"A couple of them didn't need any help. If that counts as especially well...?" Prof. Blackstone nodded. "Tish and Drake."

"Okay, good. I must say, you're better at this than I expected you to be, even with your extra studying. I think you're a natural conjurer. How difficult do you find it to pick up new parts of this subject?"

"Honestly, Professor, with the exception of the Conjuring Room, I haven't found any part of conjuring hard to understand. Putting it into use can take me a little bit, but..."

Prof. Blackstone shook his head. "You're even faster than usual on that. Most people take a while to actually be able to use it, even if they understand it. Okay, I was just curious. Make sure you have a good grasp on Chapter 4 by next time."

"Already read it twice, sir," David said.

Prof. Blackstone grinned. "Good man. Have a good day."

"You, too, sir."

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

"So, how is your class with Prof. Edgars going?" Prof. Qwellyn asked as they pruned some plants.

David replied, "Oh, fine. I'm not his assistant, though. He doesn't have one. He's a bit boring to listen to, but he knows what he's talking about."

"He should. I've heard that it's his favorite subject. That's why no one else teaches the 400-series Herbology classes. Prof. Edgars takes them all for himself."

David chuckled. "I hate to say this, but it suits his personality. He's a bit creepy."

Prof. Qwellyn smiled. "I think he is much like the plants he teaches about. Misunderstood."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, he's a nice enough guy. He's just... kind of creepy."

She smiled again, and nodded.

The two finished up their pruning, and then they went back into her office.

"Well, thank you for the help," she said. "I know that your learning in Herbology must be pretty slow with me, compared to how fast you learned things in Potions. I apologize for that."

"Don't worry about it at all," David assured her. "It's nice to be able to absorb information a bit more slowly sometimes. It helps me retain it better."

Prof. Qwellyn smiled. "Okay, well, we're done for today. See you next Sunday?"

"Barring unforeseen oddities," David replied. Prof. Qwellyn giggled.

David stepped close and gave Prof. Qwellyn a brief hug. It was only the third time he'd ever hugged her. She returned the embrace, and smiled at him when he let go of her.

"Take it easy, Miss J," David said.

"You, too, David," she replied, and then he left her.

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"But isn't it just plain unsafe?" one girl asked. "I mean, with no police here to protect us, what's to stop criminals from running rampant?"

Prof. Burke nodded with a slight smile. "And that is the issue that critics bring up, any time this topic is debated. Would anyone like to offer the counter-argument?"

The guy next to David raised his hand. The professor acknowledged him. "Well, I mean... it hasn't actually happened..."

Prof. Burke chuckled. "That is the first portion of the argument. But why hasn't it happened? Anyone? Yes, Olissa?"

Olissa squirmed a bit. She didn't like speaking out in class. "The penalties for even minor infractions are very severe. And, though the Rimohrs might not arrive quickly, they are well known for tracking down and catching law-breakers. The two things, put together, make for a powerful deterrent. Also, there is almost no recidivism of major crime in Callamandia, because you get expelled from the nation after your first one."

"Exactly," Prof. Burke said. "It is a basic tenet of Callamandian law that we do not have to put up with your presence here if you cause us a problem. Citizenship is not a right, but a privilege. Thus, if you do commit a crime here, chances are you won't be here anymore to commit a second one. Most Dugerrans don't want to end up in Earth, so they don't commit serious crimes. Those who attempt to commit minor crimes... are likely to find themselves on the receiving end of a hex from the person they're committing the crime against. It is somewhat dangerous to attempt, say, a mugging, when virtually everyone who might be considered a target can turn you into a toad."

The class chuckled about that.

"Now, there are, of course, arguments against this. Can anyone raise one?"

Jess raised her hand. When Prof. Burke acknowledged her, she said, "Some people think that it's unjust for us to be so harsh in our punishments, and that we should attempt rehabilitation of the criminals, instead."

"Very good, very good. And the response? Anyone? David?"

David said, "I am less concerned with being harsh to those who have violated the law than I am with the safety and welfare of those who are living within it. Attempts at rehabilitation have not shown a great deal of success in Earth, where they are still being tried. In general, you cannot rehabilitate someone unless they want rehabilitation, and if they wanted that, they could just ask for help. There are dozens of agencies in the United States, where I grew up, designed specifically to help the less fortunate. Even here in Callamandia, there are two or three ministry offices designed to give assistance to the less fortunate."

"Okay, and so now we have the balance of the arguments. On one side, the compassionate, who feel that the criminals are unlucky, and need a second chance and a helping hand. On the other side, we have the protectors, who feel that criminals make a choice to do what they do, and are more concerned with keeping them away from 'decent' folk. Let's explore this."

Prof. Burke turned and made two columns on the writing board. The next half-hour involved a very lively discussion throughout the class. By the time they were done, of course no consensus had been reached, except that the whole thing was a very tricky situation to handle.

"Okay, so, what have we learned? Ultimately, the character of a society determines the way in which it handles crime and criminals. Callamandia has chosen a more punitive model than some, but a less draconian model than others. No human nation in Dugerra, however, has fully embraced the idea of rehabilitation of criminals. Some are trying pilot programs, and others have long-standing options for petty criminals to ask for help, but ultimately, every human nation holds expulsion as its final option for most crimes. There are a handful of crimes for which execution is still the standard punishment, and we'll discuss those in-depth at a later time.

"That's all for today. Please read the section on the King's Council in your texts for next time. It's chapters 7 and 8. We'll discuss them in detail next class. Good day to you."

As they all walked out of the classroom, heading out of the castle, Jess and Gwen caught up with David and Olissa. David turned to Jess.

"I hope I didn't offend you with anything I said in there."

Jess shook her head. "My parents are strong believers in the whole rehabilitation thing. I've heard the argument again and again. I don't really know how I feel, even after being part of a debate about it. I do think that we're a bit harsh. I mean, hell, you spent two years under court surveillance just because you're a demighost. That's just wrong, in my opinion."

"Oh, sure, use my own history against me," David said with a grin. The others chuckled.

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

"Where you been?" David asked as Jim came into their dorm room.

"With Sherry," Jim replied.

"Damn, dude... why don't you just sleep in her room? It's nearly eleven o'clock."

"I don't think her roommates would approve," Jim said with a grin. "The noise, you know..."

David chuckled. "So, finally getting some regularly, huh?"

"Well... 'regularly' might be a stretch, but we've done it a few times."

"Good. Now I can stop listening to you bitch about my love life. Especially since it has contracted recently."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm not really seeing Sam anymore. Not that we broke up or had a fight or anything, but since I'm no longer apprenticing, we just don't spend any time together."

"Oh. Yeah, but you got to do her for two and a half years. The hottest teacher in the school."

David chuckled.

"And you've got Ellie, so it all works out the same, doesn't it?"

"Meh, I guess. Did you even get your homework done?"

"Yeah, I did it at Sherry's."

"Not much of a date, is it? You two doing homework, side-by-side..."

Jim laughed. "It wasn't a date, we were just hanging out. Don't you hang out with Ellie?"

"Not really, no. But then, she's not my girlfriend."

"Oh, c'mon, I heard you two. Thick doors or not, she's kind of loud."

David would have blushed at that. "She just wants a sex partner that she trusts," David said. "We are non-exclusive, at her request. And we don't socialize, because she's trying to make friends with her classmates."

"Oh. Well, that makes sense, I guess. Anyway, I'm going to bed. I have to get some sleep. I've got a test in the morning."

"I know. I've got the same test, remember?"

"Yeah, well... G'night."

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

"Hey, David, did you hear?" Flo asked him conspiratorially.

"Hear what?"

"There's been another theft. This time, over in Griffin Dorm. That's the second one this year."

"I knew about the first. They know who did it?"

"No idea," she told him. "It's a phantom robber!" she said, trying to be all spooky.

David looked at her. "Yeah, that's probably what a lot of people are going to think."

She cocked her head at him, and then her mouth dropped open. "I didn't mean..."

"I know you didn't, Flo. That won't stop others from thinking it."

She frowned, and nodded. "It's not right that they think that about you."

David shrugged. "I come from a long line of troublemakers, I guess."

"But you've never done anything!" she objected.

"Now, why in the world should they let facts get in the way of their prejudices?"

Flo giggled.

"Anyway, let's go to class."

"'kay. Hey, where's Olissa? She's normally with you."

"Sick."

"Serious?"

"Nah, just the flu. But Healer Hall told her to stay in bed for a couple days."

"Bummer."

David chuckled. "Yeah. I mean, if you've got to stay in bed, it'd be nice if you could do something more fun than sleep..."

Flo laughed.

-----

As David had predicted, several of the students at the school were now accusing him of the thefts. They were led by Aaron, of course.

"Only a demighost could pull off a theft with no clues. Only a demighost would steal from other students," Aaron said as David was walking past him in the lunch room. David stopped and turned, leaning down on the table to stare into Aaron's face.

"Don't you think," David said, his look menacing, "That if I was going to break the law, I might do something a bit more violent... to you? I have no reason to steal anything."

"Since when do demighosts need a reason to be a problem?" Aaron sneered.

"We've always had a reason, Aaron. People like you give us that reason."

"What do you mean, people like me?" Aaron demanded.

"Small-minded, limp-dicked, ignorant, prejudiced jackasses. Do I need to be more specific than that?" David said, staring Aaron down. "Do not try taking Marcus' place. You aren't even as good a wizard as he was, and he was a mediocre one, at best. I won't put up with your shit any more than I was willing to put up with his... and you see where it got him, anyway."

"Yeah, because the dean of students here is an incompetent, undead-loving..."

At the word "incompetent", David reached across, grabbed Aaron by the lapel, and physically dragged him across the table. He allowed Aaron to fall to the floor, then he yanked him back to his feet, clamped a hand across his throat, and slammed him down onto the table. Aaron's eyes rolled at the impact.

"Let me make this abundantly clear, you asswipe. You haven't got the skills to call the Novices here incompetent, let alone Dean Lengel. If you ever insult her in that fashion again, I will see to it that you never sleep through another night at this school. Got it?"

Aaron saw the level of malevolence in David's gaze. He knew that David meant it. He wasn't exactly sure what he'd just been threatened with, but it sounded bad. Aaron nodded.

"You want to call me names 'cause it makes you feel big and important, fine. You do not disparage this school or its dean in front of me. Now, wrap your mind around this one, and I'll speak slowly and use small words so you can understand me. I didn't steal anything. I don't steal things. Get it?" Aaron nodded weakly. "Got it?" Aaron nodded again. "Good."

David let go of Aaron and walked away. He ignored the looks he got from the other students, and he sat down with his friends.

"You know he's going to complain to Dean Lengel about you," Gwen said.

"Don't care," David replied. "I'm sick of him and his mouth, and if he keeps it up, I'm going to put him in the infirmary. I'll spend the time in detention."

"Or jail," Jess warned.

David shrugged.

-----

"So, there are still no clues?" Dean Lengel asked Officer Garibaldi.

"Nothing that we can find."

There was a knock at the door, which puzzled Dean Lengel. She'd asked not to be disturbed while she was meeting with the officer. "Come in," she called out.

David opened the door and walked into the room.

"Yes, David?"

"Hey, Joe. Ma'am... I have a request to make. I'd go straight to Joe, but I have a feeling it might require your permission."

"Oh? What's your request?"

"I'd like to have a trace placed on me."

Dean Lengel cocked her head and looked at him strangely. "Why?"

David snorted. "Why do you think? You have two thefts with, at least from what I hear, no clues at either scene. You know what the school is already thinking."

"We have nothing that points to you," Garibaldi objected. "Or anyone else, for that matter."

"Having no proof it was me, isn't the same as having proof it wasn't me. The talk has already started. I'd really rather not spend another year like my first one. If this guy, whoever he is, is going to keep stealing stuff, I'd like not to be blamed for it. The only way to make sure of that is if you can prove I didn't do it."

Joe looked at Dean Lengel. "He has a couple of good points. As a demighost, he would be able to more easily pull off the thefts. And a trace would rule him out if another theft occurs. But I would need your permission, since I don't have any legal reason to apply a trace to one of your students."

"I don't like the kind of precedent this might set," Dean Lengel objected.

"There's no precedent being set, ma'am," David replied. "The school isn't enacting the trace; I am, as a student. This is the equivalent of me asking to have a truth potion administered. You can't force me to have the trace put on, but I can ask. Like I said, the only reason you have to be involved at all is that he needs your permission to do it without a warrant."

"I suppose. But there's also the question of, are you always going to go this far to prove your innocence whenever someone accuses you of something?"

"Go how far, ma'am? Beyond this one conversation, I don't have to do anything. The trace gets applied, and I go about my life the same as always. If and when this guy commits another theft, Joe here looks to see where I was at the time of the theft, and when it shows that I wasn't at the scene of the crime, I'm ruled out as a possibility. I think this is the easiest thing I can do to clear suspicion."

Dean Lengel frowned. "It's really hard to argue with that logic, but I still don't like it. I will, however, authorize it. Officer Garibaldi, if you would."

"I've got the necessary equipment in the carriage. You'll have to come down with me."

"Oh, won't that be cute. If you don't mind, I'll accompany you invisibly, just to keep from giving the school more fodder for the rumor mill."

Garibaldi smirked. "However you want to do it." To Dean Lengel, he asked, "Was there anything else you needed to know?"

"Not at this time. Keep me up-to-date, please."

"Of course. Come on, David."

After they had made their way down to the carriage, David asked, "So, what was taken this time?"

"An old locket. I don't get this guy. The thing had very little value, except to the person he took it from. The jewelry taken the first time didn't have a lot of value, either. I mean, if you're going to steal, steal something worthwhile."

"I'm sure it makes sense to somebody."

"Yeah. Anyway, let's get this trace applied. It's a good idea, by the way. I don't think you're doing these things, but there are Rimohrs who would, and they'll wonder why I'm not looking really hard at you. This will squash that kind of thinking."

"Yeah. Now they'll just think I have an accomplice."

Garibaldi grimaced. "That just complicates the whole scenario, really. I mean, if your accomplice is capable of committing the theft without leaving behind clues, then why did you need to be involved at all?"

"I admit it doesn't make sense, but I've already realized that people don't bother with things that make sense when it comes to accusing people they don't like."

"Ain't that the truth."

"Speaking of people I don't like... can I ask you for a favor?"

"Depends on what it is."

"I need some information about someone. Like... a background check of sorts."

"What for?"

"To help out a friend."

"Okay, who is it?"

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

"David Stroud?" said the voice behind him. He was sitting with his friends in the lunch room, and the looks on their faces made him cringe slightly before he turned.

When he did turn, he saw two men wearing a uniform that he was unfamiliar with. Standing somewhat behind them was Prof. Stott.

"Yes, that's me," David said.

"You need to come with us," the one on the left said.

"Uh... what for?" David asked.

"The king requests your presence."

"Eep," David said to no one in particular. "Really, guys, I didn't steal anything..."

Prof. Stott said, "The king just needs to talk to you, David."

"Um... okay. I, uh, guess I'll see you guys later," he said to his friends. "I hope."

David got up and followed the two men out of the lunch hall. Prof. Stott didn't go with him. Jailla, who had been flying around during David's lunch, winged down and landed on his shoulder.

"What's happening?" Jailla asked.

"Wish I knew. I have been summoned by the king," he replied, sticking a pixie stick into his mouth. The guards looked back at him, but realized who he was talking to, so ignored it.

"Oh, dear. What for?"

David shrugged. "No idea."

David and the two men rode down out of the mountain, and walked out to the street. Sitting there was a royal carriage, decked out in green and gold. The Callamandian Crest adorned its side. A full team of eight pegs waited in front of it. The driver opened the door, and the two men motioned David up into the carriage. He entered, and was shocked at the plushness of the seating. He picked a chair which had a perch nearby, and Jailla flew over to it.

Once the carriage was off the ground, a young woman came to David. "Would you like something to eat, sir?"

"No, thank you. I just had lunch."

"Very well, sir. If you need anything, I'll be right over there."

"Okay."

As the young lady went and sat down, David turned to one of the guards. "What's this about?"

The guard looked at him impassively and said, "I'm just doing what I was told to do."

"Joy. We'll be getting to Senesty pretty late, won't we?"

"Yes. You'll meet with the king tomorrow morning."

What that really meant to David was two missed days of school, at least. He frowned at that, but there was very little he could do about it. You didn't say no when the King of Callamandia 'requested' your presence.

-----

The flight to Senesty was uneventful. The carriage landed in the street, and then pulled right into the palace grounds. The two guards handed David off to a young lady, who led him into the palace, and down several hallways, to a bedroom.

"You'll sleep here tonight. Someone will be by for you in the morning."

"Okay."

The room was elegant, and even more luxurious than the carriage. When he sat down on the bed, it was the softest he had ever slept on.

"You're not even remotely tired, are you?" Jailla asked him.

"No, I'm far too keyed up."

"Try studying for a bit. That should bore you to sleep."

David chuckled. He had two of his school books with him, in his Conjuring Room. He'd expected to need them for classes. Now, it did, indeed, seem like a good idea to get some studying done. If he had to miss class, he could at least keep up with things.

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

"Your boots have never been that shiny," Jailla said, staring at them.

"Yeah, I know. The brownies here in the palace must really like polishing things. What do you think we're here for?"

"I've got no better idea than you do," Jailla told him.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. David went over and opened it, finding a young lady in the hall.

"Yes?" David asked.

"The king is prepared to see you now. Are you ready?"

"Yes." Jailla flew over to David's shoulder, and then David followed the lady down the hall. He hoped that he wouldn't be going back to his room afterward, because he was completely lost by the time they arrived where they were going. They stopped in front of a fifteen-foot-tall set of highly decorated doors, with two guards standing in front of them. A slight man in what appeared to be formal wizard robes appeared out of a door to the side of the large doors.

"Is he ready?" the man asked the lady.

"Yes, Minister," she said, bowing her head slightly.

"Good, good. Open the doors," he said to the guards.

The two guards turned, each grabbing a door handle, and then they pulled open the massive doors, revealing the throne room on the other side. The room was white marble, festooned with flags bearing the Callamandian Crest. A red velvet carpet marked the path from the door to the dais where the throne sat. On either side of the carpet, thirty-foot-tall marble columns stood every twenty feet. The room was huge, at least two hundred feet long. Windows along the one wall allowed sunlight to stream in. Fire bowls affixed to the wall on the other side finished illuminating the room.

A few dozen people were already in the room, watching as the doors opened. David felt very uncomfortable being the center of all this attention. He could see that the king was sitting on his throne, gazing across the room at David, and so he had little choice but to enter.

As David took his walk down the red carpet, a crucial question occurred to him. What the hell do I do when I get there? Drop to one knee? Bow? Say, 'Hey, how ya doin'?' What?

The walk seemed to take forever, and Jailla, seeing an acceptable perching place, flew off at the earliest convenience.

Thanks a lot, you bastard, David thought silently to his familiar.

Finally, David arrived before the king. The man appeared grossly ordinary, of average height and build. He had black hair, but it was greying at the temples. He wore formal wizard robes of royal blue. The fastenings and other accessories on his robes were silver and gold. David didn't need to wonder if they were real or plated. The king's crown was a fairly simple one of gold, a circlet with six points. The front point consisted of a triquetra, and beneath it was inlaid a unicursal hexagram in silver. The crown bore only a single gem: a sapphire, in the middle of the hexagram.

Having decided that his status within the kingdom warranted the greatest amount of deference, David dropped to one knee, bowing his head before the king.

"Rise," the king said immediately. David moved back to his feet, and looked up at the king.

"You sent for me, Majesty?" David asked. He kept reminding himself of all the rules of talking with royalty: use their title, always show deference, do not challenge them even if they're being an idiot.

"Yes. It seems you've caused something of a stir, Master Stroud."

"Sir?"

The king motioned for someone else to come forward. David turned his head, and then his body, when he saw Larentis and Kiorin approach the dais. David nodded to both of them.

"These ladies have come to petition for the lifting of a royal decree. They base their petition, so they tell me, on work you have done, that in some way makes them less dangerous to Callamandian men. Further, the Royal Potions Guild informs me that you displayed this work at your recent Masterpiece Presentation Day. Is all of this correct?"

"I believe so, Your Majesty."

"Explain it to me. And please be aware that I am not a Potions Master. I apprenticed in Enchantments," the king said with a grin.

"Well, Your Majesty, the concept is fairly simple. The thing that makes lamias so dangerous to human men is that, during mating, the lamia drinks a huge amount of the man's blood, and this has, in the past, always killed the man."

"Yes, I understand this. How does your potion remedy the situation?"

"It keeps the man's body filled with blood by making more as the lamia drinks. Thus, it prevents him from dying from blood loss."

"That's it?" the king asked.

"What else is there? Sex with a lamia is not in any other way dangerous."

"And you can prove this works?"

"I can prove the potion does what I say it does, yes, Your Majesty." Turning, David asked, "Larentis, have you made use of the potion I left with you?"

"Several times. Your Majesty, these four men have all mated with a lamia in the last three months. They have all used Master Stroud's potion. As you can see, they are perfectly healthy."

"Healer Cameron? Is this true?"

The Royal Healer stepped forward. "Yes, Your Majesty. I have examined all of them, and found them to be in perfect health."

"This seems like such a simple solution to the problem. Why did no one else think of it?" the king asked. Not getting an answer, he looked pointedly at David. "Well?"

"Sorry, Your Majesty, I thought the question was rhetorical. I could only give you my opinion on the matter, as I have no real knowledge of why this was never attempted before."

"And what is your opinion?"

David shrugged. "People have been too busy hating them to consider how to help them."

The king's face broke into a smile. "I think you just might be right, Master Stroud. Madame Larentis, have you worked out an agreement with Master Stroud for a supply of his potion?"

"Not yet, Your Majesty. We haven't had the opportunity. We are willing to pay whatever he would ask, however, if it will allow us to have the decree lifted."

The king nodded. "Well, Master Stroud... what is your price? The Royal Potions Guild has offered to manufacture the potion in sufficient quantities to serve the lamias' needs, but the potion belongs to you. It is therefore your right to demand a fee for each use."

"Before I decide, Your Majesty, who would be paying that fee?"

"While normally the fee would be paid by the person purchasing the potion, in this case, the kingdom has agreed to provide the potion to those who need it. Therefore, the kingdom itself would be paying you."

David considered for a moment, and looked over at the lamias, then back to the king. "Your Majesty, I am fully prepared to release my rights to this potion, in light of how much it will help both the lamias and the vampires. As long as the Guild agrees not to charge more than the cost of manufacture, I would only request a single payment, in whatever amount the kingdom considers acceptable, to be paid directly to The Woodward Academy of Magical Arts, to be used for whatever project the Dean of Students feels most worthy."

There was a stir in the room. Such a potion could make a Potions Master very wealthy. Even if they charged just a small fee for each use, it would amount to a fortune very quickly. To surrender the potion to public use was to throw away a massive asset. The king understood this.

"You understand, if you do this, you can never charge for the use of this potion?" he asked.

"I understand, Your Majesty. But I don't need the money as much as I need the feeling of knowing I have helped the lamias into a better place."

The king nodded. He looked to the Guild Council members who were in the throne room. "How soon can you have enough of this potion made?"

"Within the day, Your Majesty."

"Very well. Let it be written," the king said, then turned to the Court Scribe. "Are you writing this?" Seeing that the scribe was ready, the king continued, "From this day forth, the decree that any lamia should be killed on sight is hereby rescinded. The Lamia race is restored to full Callamandian citizenship, and they are henceforth accorded all of the rights and responsibilities of full citizens. Further, it is decreed that the Lamia race is required to use Master Stroud's potion... What is it called?"

"Bloodbank, Your Majesty," David replied.

"It is decreed that the Lamia race is required to employ Master Stroud's Bloodbank potion during all mating attempts. This potion is to be provided by the Royal Potions Guild, who shall not charge more for this potion than it costs to produce."

"It shall be done, Your Majesty," the king's minister replied.

Turning back to David, the king said, "Would a half million granas given to the school be enough gratitude, do you think?"

David was caught short. He wasn't sure exactly how to answer that. Finally, he said, "If His Majesty feels that is appropriate, it certainly sounds acceptable to me."

The king laughed. Settling, he said, "I understand this is not the only potion you made to help some less-than-loved race."

"No, sir, it's not. I also crafted two potions specifically for the vampires."

"You, yourself, are a demighost, I understand. Is this correct?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Well, you are certainly not living up to their reputation. For which I and my kingdom are grateful. To express that gratitude in a way that will be known by all..." the king raised his voice again, "I hereby decree that Master David Stroud shall be awarded two chevrons, for meritorious service to the kingdom."

At that pronouncement, a young boy approached David, and held out a framed board, covered in midnight blue velvet, on which was a gold medal. The medal was a pair of upward-pointing chevrons, with a star dangling from the center of the lower chevron, with the year emblazoned upon it. An arch above the top chevron bore the words, "Meritorious Service to the King". Beside the large medal was a much smaller gold pin, which was a rectangle with two chevrons inside it. It reminded him of one of the symbols seen on the door of Castle Woodward. He took the board from the boy, who bowed to him, and moved off.

"Though you may wish to wear the actual medal to important functions, the smaller pin is designed for daily wear," a nearby functionary explained.

"Are there rules about how to wear it?" he asked quietly.

The man handed him a small piece of parchment, then nodded and backed off.

David turned back to the king. "Thank you, Your Majesty. This is an unexpected honor. I am glad that I was able to be of service. To the lamias, to the kingdom, and to you."

The king nodded, and then those present applauded. As the applause died down, the minister conveyed David out a side door, so that the king could get on with his daily business.

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

By the time David had returned to school, it was late, and Jim was already asleep. David had simply settled in and gone to sleep himself. He was sure there would be plenty of questions the next morning.

When David entered Byron Hall for breakfast, plenty of people were already there. His appearance started a bunch of whispering. He knew that word of his being escorted off school grounds would have spread like wildfire, and he was sure they were all speculating about where he'd gone.

"Back already, Stroud?" Aaron said snidely. "I felt sure they'd keep you in jail for the thefts longer than a day!"

David turned to Aaron, making sure that his chevron pin was clearly visible to him. "Actually, I had to go have a chat with the king. By the way, your name came up. The king told me to tell you that you're a dickfer."

"He said what?" Aaron said, scrunching up his forehead. "What the hell's a dickfer?"

David looked at him with mock pity. "That explains so much, Aaron. You poor soul." With that, David walked away, while those around Aaron laughed uproariously. Aaron, realizing what he'd said, now was blushing furiously.

David made his way over to his usual table, where most of his friends were waiting. Jim was notably absent, sitting over with his girlfriend, Sherry.

"David! Where did you go?" Gwen asked. "Is everything okay?"

"Can I sit down, first?" he asked Gwen, who blushed crimson. David sat next to her, and then placed his order with the pixie.

Before he could start in on his explanation, Flo asked, "Is that what I think it is?" She was pointing to the small pin he was wearing.

"Probably," David said. To the group as a whole, he said, "I had to go talk to the king about one of my potions."

"Which one?" Olissa asked.

"Bloodbank. The lamias asked to have the kill-on-sight decree lifted, since Bloodbank makes it safe for them to mate with men. Since it was my potion, the king wanted to talk to me about it."

"So, did he lift the decree?" Gwen asked.

"Yeah. He also mandated that they have to use Bloodbank during mating."

"That's going to make you even richer," Simon said.

David just shook his head. "I gave up my rights to the potion. I don't need the money, and I'd rather that one be out there to help people."

"Is that why the king gave you the medal?" Flo asked.

"I assume so. That, and my potions for helping the vampires."

"What medal?" Simon asked.

David pointed to the chevron pin on his lapel. Simon had overlooked it in the clutter that was now David's coat lapel. "Holy shit. Two chevrons?"

"Yeah, I was confused by that, but you can't very well ask the king why he gave you more than you think you deserved, so..." David shrugged. The others chuckled at that.

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

"Now, villainheart. The very name tells you it is not a plant to be handled carelessly. If this plant's needles prick you here in class, you will spend a week in the infirmary. If it were to happen out in the wilderness, you would be dead by the end of the day. Pay close attention to its appearance; identifying it may save your life some day."

A student raised a hand, and the professor acknowledged her. "So, why are we messing with it at all? I mean, I know we ask this question all the time, but what good is this stuff?"

Prof. Edgars just cocked his head very slightly, and then said, "David, would you care to field that one for me?"

David grinned, and said, "Villainheart is used in many potions, including three very prominent base potions. It's a good, solid ingredient for strengthening the effect of potions."

"You mean, you use poison, in potions?"

"All the time. The act of adding it to the potion usually neutralizes the poison."

"Usually?" she asked.

"Some potions... are poisons." David shrugged.

"Now," Prof. Edgars said, nodding to David, "I want you all to don the heavy work gloves. These all need to be repotted, and so you will need to be extra careful in what you're doing. In order that you do not need to handle this plant too often, it is advisable to pick a pot that it is not likely to outgrow for a while."

The students all went looking for the largest pot they could get their hands on. David found a pot roughly three times the size of the current one in which the plant sat. This was quite a bit smaller than those of his classmates.

"Do you know something we don't?" the girl on the other side of Olissa asked him. Her pot was nearly twice as big as his.

"Well... what I know is that this plant can't kill me," David said with a smirk. The girl blushed and giggled, and Olissa just shook her head at David, and grinned.

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

"I'd almost forgotten how good it feels to have sex," Giendia told David. The two were resting together in the forest, at the same spot that she had first brought him the previous year. Things had gone considerably better this time around, and they had celebrated her successfully defended championship at the Centaur Games.

David was sitting on a small boulder, so that he could be close to the same height as Giendia. She was resting her head on his shoulder, her arms wrapped loosely around him, her naked breasts pressed into his chest. His arm rested along her back, and the two just sat quietly for a while.

Finally, Giendia sat up, and then kissed David softly. When she broke their kiss, she said, "Thank you, again, for accepting me."

David ran his hand along the side of her face, brushing her hair back. "Only a crazy man wouldn't. You're beautiful, kind, smart... and you hit like a charging bull," he said, to twist her tail. Giendia blushed crimson, but smiled back at him. The two returned to kissing for a while.

When they took another break in their lip lock, David said, "I notice that your rank pendant has changed." The medallion that hung against her forehead on its chain now had a star right above the downward-pointing chevron.

Giendia nodded. "I got the star on my birthday. It means I'm an active-duty soldier."

"I missed your birthday? Damn. So... what do you do, as a soldier in the centaur military?"

"Nothing, yet. They induct soldiers twice a year, in January and July. I leave to go south in January for basic training."

"You mean, you won't be here anymore?" David asked with a frown.

"Not for a couple years, at least," Giendia said, mirroring his frown. "I'll maybe be able to come back when I get leave, but those will be short visits, at most."

"When do you go?"

"January 6th."

"Dammit, I won't even be around to say good-bye. I'm spending the Yule break in Bellamy."

"It's okay," she told him.

"I don't want to lose you as a friend," he told her.

"You won't. We'll always be friends."

"And if you do get back up this way... maybe we can visit this spot while you're here," he said with a wink.

Giendia blushed, and smiled. "I'd like that." The two returned to kissing, and soon their passions grew, and the forest was filled with the sounds of their lovemaking once again.

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

"Hello, can I help you?" the man asked David.

"You're the editor?" David asked.

"Yes..."

"I was wondering how I might go about getting an article published in the Crier."

"Are you a reporter?" the man asked.

"Well..." David hedged. He explained his situation to the man, and then they discussed things. When David left the office, he knew he'd have to talk to Dean Lengel, as he would need the school's permission to keep his new job.

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

"I still don't get what he meant by telling us to water the plant internally," Olissa said. She was talking with David as they walked from their Herbology class up to their Conjuring class.

"He means you have to use magic when you water. As you're pouring the water, you use the misting charm. It allows the water to penetrate right through the skin of the plant. For some plants, like cloverhoof, it's the best way to get water to them, because they soak up water so poorly the regular way."

"Oh. How did you know that?"

"My time with Miss J. We handled several plants that were like that."

"You never really talk about your Herbology apprenticeship. Will you be getting mastery in that, too?"

David shook his head. "I'm not her apprentice. Fairies don't do apprenticing, and strangely, there's not really an Herbology apprenticeship system. There's not even a real guild, just a trade association. So, I don't know how you're supposed to know when you're an Herbology 'Master', if there even is such a thing."

Well, two and a half years of class, plus two years of extra training, has to put you close," Olissa said.

David snorted. "I sure don't feel like it."

The two continued to chat as they walked along the rim of the Academy Moat towards Hyneman Hall, where their Conjuring class was located. As they approached, they saw Gwen and Jess waiting, sitting on one of the benches. They were kissing.

"Hmm," David said with a grin.

"I didn't even know Jess was gay," Olissa said.

"Me, either. But come to think of it, I've never seen her with a guy."

They approached their friends, who both blushed when they saw David and Olissa.

"Hey, you guys. How long you two been going out?" David asked. His voice indicated only curiosity; he knew Gwen well enough to know not to tease her about her lifestyle.

"Only a few days," Jess answered.

"Well, that's cool," David said. Turning to Gwen, David decided to twist her tail in the one way he knew was safe. "Are we sharing this one, too?"

Gwen blushed purple, and Jess laughed at her girlfriend's reaction. Jess looked at David and said, "Sorry. You're cute and all, but I'm not into guys."

David chuckled, and nodded, and then they all headed into the building for their Conjuring class.

~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~~≈≡≈~~

"You're going to have to do something, and soon," Prof. Rutherford said to Cat. "No offense, but you look like hell." The two were sitting at a table in the lunch room, talking about Cat's ex-husband.

"I know. It's frustrating, because I really don't know how to handle him. And what makes it worse is that Ben is getting upset, because he doesn't know what to do, either."

"Not much of a fighter, is he?" Prof. Rutherford asked. She didn't much care for Ben Marland, Cat's boyfriend, but that was merely a personal preference.

"C'mon, Niobi. Not now."

"Sorry. He's a nice guy, and if you love him, that's fine. I just don't like his type."

"I know. And you're right; he isn't much of a fighter. That's not what he does. When he gets upset, he goes and sculpts something."

"Well, then your ex should be good for business, at least..." Prof. Rutherford said with a grin.

Cat shook her head in bemusement. "You..." she cut off her sentence, because she saw David approaching their table. "Hey, David. How are you today?"

David stepped to the table, and nodded to Prof. Rutherford, who smiled and nodded in return. Then David set something on the table in front of Prof. Arpilla.

"I shouldn't have to go behind your back just to find out that you need some help, Cat. I thought we had an agreement where your slimeball ex was concerned." With that, David walked away, leaving the copy of the Gorumshead Crier that he'd set on the table.

Cat looked down at the paper. "Oh my god."

The headline read, "Arpilla Slings Mud in Custody Fight, Hides Dirty Dealings". Cat quickly read the article, which talked about Elliot Arpilla's attempts to defame Cat's character, along with his efforts to hide some of his less-than-savory business deals. The article tied it all together as part of Elliot's attempt to regain custody of his two children.

After she had passed the article over to Prof. Rutherford, Cat said, "What I don't understand is how they knew all this. How did they put it all together?"

Prof. Rutherford just handed the paper back. "If you don't know that, then you didn't pay attention to who wrote the article."

Cat looked down. There, under the headline, was the by-line. "By David Stroud, Woodward correspondent".

She looked up at Prof. Rutherford, who just looked back at her and said, "I told you that you should have said something to him. He has a knack for fighting battles, playing by the rules, and winning."

There were tears in Cat's eyes. She nodded at her friend. "I don't know how to thank him for this."

Prof. Rutherford snorted. "If he wanted you to thank him, he'd have stuck around while you read the article. He does what he does because you're his friend. We could all use a couple friends like him."

"Amen to that," Cat said, wiping her eyes. "Hopefully this will shut Elliot up, at least publicly."

"If not... next time, don't make David have to be a detective just to find out what's wrong, okay?"

"Okay."

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