Lucky Rabbit

Man and dragon listened intently until Pandy finished, neither moving nor speaking. This time, she left very little out, and Professor Beeswick didn’t even flinch when she told him she was fairly certain he’d been killed, though he did look mildly surprised. The only important thing she still held back was Killian’s identity, saying only that the murderer was a masked person who had managed to summon a demon.

That pretty much narrowed it down to Dark mages, since she didn’t think it was common knowledge that Light mages could corrupt their magic to Dark. Then again, these two seemed to have far more than common knowledge. Still, the uncertainty should keep them from doing anything other than watching their suspects, and if someone unsavory really was going around recruiting Dark mages, that might well be for the best.

When she finally wound down, chancellor and librarian exchanged glances, and Augustus asked, “Are you certain that I was the chancellor at Condor in this…book?”

That had not been on the long list of questions Pandy was expecting, so she hesitated, casting her mind back over the opening sequence of the game. First was the long zoom in to Clara, who was still at home. Clara sat up in bed, stretched, then blinked and grinned as she suddenly seemed to remember something pleasant. After that was a brief montage, in which her maid helped her get dressed, they loaded her few, shabby trunks into the carriage, and it drove off, back down the winding road to the Reedsley estate, where the gates shut behind it once again.

After that, it showed the carriage driving through a slightly blurry, idyllic countryside, then the city, until it arrived at Condor, where a number of students and staff members crowded the steps. No one helped Clara down, and her bags were left on the bottom step, once again showcasing her family’s poverty. Which seemed excessive, now that Pandy thought about it. The Reedsleys had seemed comfortable, if not wealthy, and respected when Pandy and Thaniel were there. Was something supposed to happen to cause them to lose money and standing between now and then? Clara hadn’t ever mentioned it, but-

“Ms. Boxx?” Augustus said.

“Pandy,” Pandy corrected absently, then felt her cheeks heat again. “Um, yes, I’m sure.” She pointed to her right. “You’re up at the podium, and you look pretty much exactly like you do now, except, you know, a bit older. You’re only shown – mentioned! – briefly, but it’s clear. Plus, in your speech, you say,” she lowered her voice, making it a bit bombastic, “I am Chancellor Blackwood, and I’m pleased to welcome you all to Condor Academy, an honored institution of learning, with blah blah blah.”

She only realized she’d said the last bit out loud when she heard the dragon snicker before he murmured, “That does sound like you, Augustus.”

The chancellor gave him a flat look. “Well, at least I don’t die.” He glanced back at Pandy. “Do I?”

She shrugged. “Not as far as I know, but, um, you’re…not a very important character.” She grimaced as she admitted this, but neither man seemed terribly concerned about their future selves, other than what job Augustus had at the time. Which she needed to finish explaining.

Drawing a finger straight down from where future-Augustus had been, she continued, jabbing at each character’s position as she said their names. “Clara is here, in the middle, but a few rows back. Prince Kaden is in the front, of course, though at that time, Clara doesn’t know he’s the prince. Everyone else does, but she doesn’t have any friends to tell her. Eventually, he lets it slip, but only after they- I mean, after they’re…friends.”

She cleared her throat. She really had tried to avoid the romantic parts of the story, but there was no way to leave out all of the bonding moments, since they often took place in the very locations Pandy needed to go. “Um, Edgar is behind Kaden, reading a book, and Bastian is sitting to Clara’s right. He actually falls asleep on the shoulder of the girl sitting between them.”

Seeing the looks on their faces, she quickly adds, “Kaden and Dorian are definitely paying attention, though! Dorian is over here,” to Clara’s left, “with the rest of the students in the Honorbound.” She couldn’t help the tinge of distaste that crept into the last word, and Augustus raised a brow.

“You don’t care for the students who help ensure that everyone is safe and following the rules?” the chancellor asked blandly.

Pandy flinched. “I mean, yes, but… In my experience, people like that tend to either use their power to control other people, or follow the letter of the law without taking extenuating circumstances into consideration.”

Circumstances like chronic bad luck. It wasn’t Pandy’s fault that she was always around when things went wrong, but to a certain kind of person, it certainly looked like she must be involved. Especially when her hands were always covered in paint. Or marshmallow fluff. Or that stuff that was in the anti-theft devices that no one ever remembered to remove in the store.

His lips twitched. “I…see. So, there’s absolutely no chance that the chancellor at Condor was someone called Lord Findlay? And there are a lot of, ah, pictures in this book?”

“Oh. No. And yes. It’s a…comic?” That word evoked no hint of understanding so she tried again. “Manga? Graphic novel?”

There was a flicker of something like recognition there, but that might simply be because the words were fairly self-explanatory. Really, she should have just said it was some kind of magical hologram or something. Too late now, though. Rather than trying to defend her choice of reading material, she turned it back on him. “Why does it matter who’s chancellor?”

Gray eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and Augustus paused for a moment, as if weighing how much to tell her. Then, apparently deciding that trust was best earned with trust, he said, “That means that Eleanor is no longer in school. Her Majesty is…somewhat concerned that the princess’s weak constitution and gentle disposition will cause her to struggle in such a demanding environment. That’s actually why I was made chancellor here in the first place. Queen Louisa wanted someone she knew personally in the position.”

He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I must admit that I dismissed her concerns when she first spoke to me, but after the events of the last few weeks, I’ve come to realize that I need to take my current role much more seriously. I believe Eleanor is a great deal stronger than her mother gives her credit for, both emotionally and physically, but it’s now obvious that the princess is in danger from things other than illness and the kind of accidental cruelty children are so good at inflicting upon one another.”

Replacing the gold-rimmed frames, he said, “In any case, for one reason or another, the queen must decide to remove her daughter from Falconet sometime between now and then. Which means I failed in my duty. And yet, there I am, made chancellor of the school which her son is attending. Which implies that she has not lost faith in me. These two things are…contradictory.”

“Who are you?” Pandy blurted out. “I mean, you talk about Queen Louisa like you’re personal friends, but I don’t remember you ever being mentioned other than as ‘the chancellor’. At least, not after your initial introduction.”

Again, Augustus looked uncertain, but he gave a melancholy sigh and admitted, “King Fergus was a cousin of mine. Distant, I assure you, but a cousin nonetheless. He was a bit older than I am, but we shared some common interests, and became friends. When he married Louisa, I became friendly with her, as well, and their children both called me ‘uncle’ when they were too young to understand our actual relationship. I believe Eleanor has mostly forgotten me, since I’ve been…busy the last few years, but Kaden has not.”

Pandy’s eyes widened. Fergus had only been a bit older than Augustus? She was fairly certain Queen Louisa was around forty. Was the king younger than his wife, or was Augustus older than she thought? Not that it mattered, of course. Not that she was going to try to find out, either, because that would be-

“How old are you?” her mouth said, blithely ignoring the fact that it was none of her business. Quickly, she tried to find a reason for her question. “I mean, you don’t look that much older than I…was?” Because while Pandy had just turned twenty-four, Ms. Wellington was obviously in her thirties, or possibly even forty. “But you’re already a chancellor, and the king and queen have a fourteen-year-old.”

At some point, Professor Beeswick had returned to work, carefully prying the doorframe away from the wall. Now, he stopped and smirked at the chancellor. “Yes, Augustus, how old are you, to be in such an august position?”

Augustus glared, then muttered, “Just because I’m not an ancient busybody, like some people…” Clearing his throat, he turned back to Pandy. “I’ll be thirty just before midwinter. Fergus was twenty when he married Louisa, and she was twenty-three. She’s only thirty-eight now. The last few years have been difficult for her.”

Blanching, Pandy realized he was right, and most definitely right to remind her of something she should have known. Queen Louisa had lost her husband, nearly lost her son, then been forced to take responsibility for an entire country. That would age anyone, and while the queen was exceptionally beautiful, something besides her few silver strands of hair made her seem older. And Fergus was only thirty-two or thirty-three when he died? Somehow, Pandy had always imagined him as a solidly middle-aged man.

“If you two are done, I have a few more…pertinent questions,” the dragon said, standing up once again. Augustus seemed almost grateful as he nodded and took a step back.

“Excellent,” Professor Beeswick said, wiping his talons on a cloth he took out of the open front of his robe. Pinning Pandy with his gaze, he said, “First, what would happen if someone else went to these places and repeated young Clara’s actions in your story? Do you think Ismara would reveal herself to them? If not, why do you believe it will work if you do the same? Would it not be better to call upon Miss Reedsley herself and simply have a priest and some soldiers accompany her to these locations?”

Those were good questions, and Pandy chewed on her lip, then spat it out when she saw him note the telltale sign that she was waffling.

“Because of…whatever I am,” she said carefully, “I think I need to be there. I told you about the, um, god who,” was probably listening right now, “brought me here? He was supposed to make a deal with Ismara so I could stay,” even though he didn’t actually do it, “so I may be, um, connected to her. Or be able to detect her. Or, um, something?”

There was a definite squeak at the end of that, but Professor Beeswick nodded as if every word of gibberish she’d spewed made complete sense, then solemnly said, “That makes no sense whatsoever, but we’ll move forward with the understanding that you probably have to be there. Would you object to telling us about a few of the less important locations so that we can try without you, or is your way the only way?”

The very nonchalance of the question made Pandy feel like a complete and total jerk. After all, she didn’t actually know that she was right, even though she strongly suspected it. Especially since she still had more information she couldn’t disclose, because not only would it expose Keros’ failures, it would probably reveal the fact that Pandy hadn’t exactly been complimentary about him when she first told the dragon and the chancellor – and Isidor – who she was. And she honestly wasn’t ready to deal with a pouting deity who had access to her head right now.

“No, yes, of course I’ll tell you a few,” she said quickly. “But I don’t necessarily think it’s a good idea to involve Clara. I mean, she’s just a kid right now, right?”

Augustus’ expression had tightened a bit as Pandy and Professor Beeswick spoke, but now the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “And she won’t be ‘just a kid’ in three years?”

“Not as much,” Pandy said weakly, but really, sixteen wasn’t that different from thirteen, was it? Just because that was the age at which children were considered mature enough to do things like form relationships that would last for the rest of their lives, it didn’t…

Nope, she wasn’t going to think about that. Twenty-four-year-old Pandy had spent far too much time ‘living’ the life of sixteen-year-old Clara, flirting with sixteen- and seventeen-year-old boys, for her to feel comfortable questioning those particular life choices. Instead, she said, “How would you explain why you need her?”

The chancellor and the professor – was he actually a professor? what of? – exchanged another glance, and together they said, “She just got a scholarship to Kestrel.”