Lucky Rabbit

Tension was thick in the air at lunch, and all of the tables were set up. Adults sat among the children, though Pandy thought there were fewer of both – adults and children – than there had been in the morning. She wasn’t certain what that meant, but hoped it wasn’t a bad sign.

Somewhat to her surprise, the chancellor was back, and he looked far more serious than he had been that morning in the carriage. He also had deep shadows beneath his eyes, and she knew they hadn’t been there earlier. A gnawing worry that had faded during her time with Thaniel and the others returned in full force. Was the little elemental, Zephra, all right? But she had no way to ask, and plenty of other things to worry about, so she let that concern slip away, at least for now.

The food was excellent, as always, but while Pandy found her mouth moving as she ate almost automatically, she tasted none of it. She guessed the others were having similar difficulties, especially Suzanne, who sat next to Eleanor, but watched Matilda.

The blonde girl sat beside a golden giant, a veritable paragon of masculinity, whose deep, booming voice echoed out over the quiet murmurs of the rest of the gathering. Matilda flinched every time her father spoke, but her shoulders remained straight, and her chin thrust out as if daring anyone to comment. No one did, but also, no one had any doubts that her parent had a great number of critical things to say about almost everything.

Once dessert was served, nibbled at, and carried away, all eyes turned to the chancellor, where he sat among his teachers and staff, at the single long table perched atop a dais at the head of the room. He dabbed at his lips with his white linen napkin, and it was obvious that he was about to stand when Matilda’s father did so instead.

Slamming broad hands flat on the table in front of him, the man all but roared, “Mister Blackwood, what is the meaning of this? I believe we’ve all been patient enough,” he waved around, as if to include the nobility seated at the other tables, all of whom were watching him like he was some kind of creature escaped from a zoo. “I demand to know what happened yesterday, and what you’re doing about it! I trusted my precious girl to you, and this happens only two weeks after the term begins?”

Reaching over, he placed a heavy hand on Matilda’s shoulder, and she bore up under its weight without any reaction at all. “If you can’t prove to me that nothing like this will happen again, I’m going to take my Matilda home right now, and you’ll not see her back here. Not only that, but I’ll recommend to the queen that you be removed from your position. Her Majesty knows me, and she’ll listen!”

Pandy remembered the ethereally lovely queen, and compared her to this overbearing man. Somehow, while she believed the queen knew of him, she doubted they had the kind of close relationship he was implying. Judging by the rolling eyes and small, incredulous coughs of the nobles around her, they weren’t taking his words at face value, either.

Mr. Blackwood – Augustus – stood, offering Matilda’s father a small smile as he did so. “Thank you for opening up the topic, my lord. I shall endeavor to alleviate your concerns.”

Matilda’s father scowled, and his brows drew together. Before he could say anything further, however, Augustus looked away, scanning over the room, meeting several people’s eyes, and acknowledging them with a smile or a bow of his head. When the room was silent and all eyes on him, he spoke, the calm quiet of his words that much more impactful after the other man’s outburst.

“Yesterday, an attempt was made to abduct a student under my care,” he said. “I take full responsibility for the fact that it went as far as it did, and if the queen and the school board decide that I must pay for my failure by leaving my position, I shall do so quietly. In the meantime, however, I am still chancellor here, and, as such, it is I who owe all of you an explanation.”

He paused, and heads nodded with approval all around the room. Faces which had looked tight and angry relaxed a bit, concern edging to the forefront. “Many of you attended Falconet,” Augustus went on, “and if you did not, you went to Kestrel or Condor. Thus, you are aware of the remarkable library magic that connects the schools. Someone discovered a way to manipulate that system – a system which has been in place for decades – in order to carry one of our students away. The librarian is fixing the problem as we speak, and I am confident that the events of yesterday will never take place again. Most of you have met Professor Beeswick, and he has given me permission to promise this to you, in his name.”

A quiet murmur swept through the room, and even more of the adults relaxed back into their chairs, nodding with satisfaction. Matilda’s father was not among them, and Pandy remembered what Suzanne had said. Was he not born a noble, or had his family simply not had enough money or influence to allow him to attend school? Somehow, she was willing to bet that the former possibility was correct.

The large blonde man, who dwarfed the chair in which he sat, as well as the small girl beside him, opened his mouth, but Augustus looked directly at him as he continued. “More concerning to me, at this point, is the fact that a stranger was able to get onto campus in order to perpetuate this abduction. We have wards around the grounds, elementals watch every entrance, and our staff knows to question and detain any stranger they meet. Yet all of these safeguards failed. I spent the morning following up on some clues we found in the location to which the student was taken, and have determined that the abduction was committed by the Shadow Exchange.”

Small gasps escaped several people, who then tried very hard to look like they hadn’t made a sound. Augustus’ lips twitched, much as they did when he was speaking to Pandy. Tic, or laughter?

“For those who aren’t aware,” the chancellor continued, “the Shadow Exchange is a vast underground organization which gathers information or, ah, retrieves ‘lost objects’ for their former owners, among other things.” That was putting it very, very nicely, but given that many of these people had probably used the organization for one purpose or another at some point, it made sense to be as diplomatic as possible about the whole thing.

“Unfortunately, while the Shadow Exchange provides some important services, they are also…not always as selective as they might be about the jobs they accept. Their leader, who is known to the queen,” here he looked directly at Matilda’s father, who reddened, “has assured Her Majesty that no further jobs like this shall be accepted, nor shall they encroach on Falconet or any of the other schools again.” His voice was dry as he said this, and a few smirks indicated that no one else really believed this assurance, either.

“Nonetheless, I have put even more precautions in place to protect the student involved, as well as every other child at this school,” Augustus said, suddenly absolutely serious. “I will not say what those precautions are, here or in private, in order to make sure that they cannot be circumvented. I will, however, assure you that Her Majesty, Queen Regent Louisa, personally approved them, and that she feels confident enough in those additional precautions that she has left her own daughter, as well as the crown prince, in their schools.”

Now a ripple of interest spread across the crowd, and everyone looked around. Were they trying to spot Eleanor? Surely they’d already realized that she was old enough to start at Falconet this year. Or did they think she’d continue studying with tutors for at least a while longer?

The chancellor remained standing for a few beats, then nodded. “I would also like to apologize for my absence this morning, when you were all looking for answers. I assure you I was as well. I will be in my office for the rest of the day, and I encourage you to come to me with any further questions, or if you have information you believe might be helpful in discovering who placed the order for the abduction, since even the Exchange doesn’t know. They were more concerned with the purity of their employer’s gold than their identity.”

Now the scorn was thick in his voice, and even from where Pandy sat, she could see the lines deepen around his mouth. Looking around once more, Augustus nodded to a few people again, then said, “I hope this has answered at least some of your questions, and allayed your concerns. Thank you for your time and attention. I shall see you upstairs soon.”

With that, he gave a deep bow, and walked down off the dais, quickly disappearing through the door that led to the kitchen and the stairs up. A few people, including the large man who sat beside Matilda, looked like they would follow him, but the other staff members very politely intercepted them, gently directing them back toward the foyer and the swooping staircases leading up to the chancellor’s office.

Most of the adults filtered out, talking among themselves. Not surprisingly, Matilda’s father hurried to be in the thick of them, holding forth to several well-dressed men and women, which allowed Suzanne to hurry over and sit down beside her friend. They exchanged a few words before Matilda nodded, rose, and came to join the others. The blonde-haired girl was unusually subdued when she sat in the chair Suzanne grabbed from a nearby table. She managed to toss her hair when Geraldine asked how she was, but even that was half-hearted at best.

“I’m fine, of course,” she said, as if insulted the question had even been asked. “Really, the whole thing is ridiculous. Of course we’re all safe here. Father is just being overprotective.”

Geraldine flushed, but Thaniel leaned forward and said, “D’you think he’ll let you stay, then? And, um,” he glanced around at the others, worry piercing his sunny disposition, “what about everyone else?”

Suzanne smiled ruefully. “Most of my family doesn’t…they like it when I’m here. So I’m certain I’ll stay.”

“M’too,” Abbington said, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Gottastay.”

The pink blush of indignation bled out of Geraldine’s cheeks, leaving her pale. “Oh. I didn’t think- That is, I don’t know.” She glanced at the door, as if expecting her parents to burst in at any moment. “Mother won’t like it, I’m sure.”

Thaniel’s face fell. “That’s what I thought, too.”

“But Father trusts the queen,” the girl hurried to add. “So I’m certain I’ll be able to stay, since she’s supporting the chancellor in keeping us all safe.”

Eleanor actually managed a little smile of her own as she said, “My mother also…trusts the queen.”

They all turned to look at Isidor, who had remained silent, his hand lost in his pocket. He wouldn’t look up at them, and didn’t speak until Thaniel actually said, “Izzy?”

“I don’t know,” Isidor finally muttered, eyes sliding down toward Pandy, then over at Eleanor. “I…may have to leave. I was here to…do something, and I failed. I couldn’t even-” He swallowed hard, then shook his head, unable or unwilling to say anything further.

He was seated across from Eleanor, and while the others fell over themselves to assure him that they were certain he hadn’t failed at anything, the little princess sighed, extending her hand. She could barely reach Isidor’s empty hand, which lay curled on the table between them, but she placed her fingertips on his wrist and said, “I don’t think you failed at anything, and I’ll tell my mother so. I hope…she can speak to the chancellor on your behalf.”

Isidor’s eyes shot up, and he stared at her, then gave a self-derisive laugh. “I would appreciate that…Ellie. But I did fail. I wasn’t where I needed to be, and as a result, you…it was my fault.”

And mine, Pandy thought, almost writhing in self-recrimination. If she hadn’t taken Isidor away, if he and Tempest hadn’t been too tired to help, if if if…

But again, Eleanor shook her head. By now, everyone else had fallen silent, watching the exchange with wide, fascinated gazes. It was obvious that something was going on, something they didn’t understand, and they weren’t willing to interrupt whatever it was.

Lifting her chin, Eleanor used what Pandy thought of as ‘the princess voice’. It was clear and ringing, with none of the shy hesitation so evident in her usual speech and behavior. “Isidor, you are not to be held accountable. No one could have anticipated what happened, including those far older and more experienced than you. You weren’t even the one responsible at that time, I believe.” She lifted her brows in a far-too-mature gesture, then spoke slowly, as if to a toddler. “I will speak to my mother.”

From the looks on Abbington, Suzanne, and Matilda’s faces, they were intensely curious, but still remained silent, though it looked to be almost physically painful for Matilda. Isidor, for his part, suddenly removed his hand from his pocket. Tempest poked her head out once the opening was cleared, watching as Isidor’s hand uncurled, revealing the Heartsplit Charm, which he held out to Eleanor.

“Ellie, I…got this. Yesterday. I thought…it looked like something you might like.” He slid the other hand from beneath the princess’s feather-light touch and twisted the pin, splitting it apart. Cheeks burning, he pinned the black half to his shirt, and handed the white half to Eleanor. “I’d be honored if you’d wear this. Always.”

Suzanne let out a little ‘eep’, then clapped her hands over her mouth, obviously convinced that she was seeing a declaration of young love. Matilda looked equally thrilled, while Abbington only seemed puzzled. Geraldine, on the other hand, looked almost annoyed, aware that something was going on besides the obvious, but entirely unable to figure out what it was. Thaniel knew, however, and one hand went to the pin hidden beneath his jacket, while the other rested on Pandy, where she sat in his lap.

Eleanor’s face went beet red, and for a moment she looked like she would thrust Isidor’s gift back at him. Then she visibly pulled her dignity around her, and pinned the little charm to her own shirt. “Thank you, Izzy, I accept.”