Lucky Rabbit

Augustus circled around to Pandy’s side of the desk, none-too-gently nudging her out of the way. Pandy backed up, then darted forward again and grabbed the pile of dresses. Yes, she was definitely just moving them out of his way to be helpful, not because she was concerned that they would be damaged. Not at all.

The chancellor fiddled with the box for a moment, swore softly, and the lid flicked open. Rather than revealing the contents, Augustus straightened, licking his lips before attempting to whistle. It was a thin and reedy sound, not at all like the one she’d heard him use to summon his elemental. When Zephra didn’t appear instantly, as she usually did, Pandy noticed that Augustus’s skin was turning a bit gray.

Pandy thought, reaching out as the man’s knees seemed to give way, and he slumped toward the floor. He was quite a bit taller than she was, but she was able to maneuver him down gently, even as the System confirmed her fears.

Minor Heal successful.

Healed Augustus Blackwood for 20 HP.

How was he down a full twenty points already? He looked a bit better, though, so she healed him again, then again, and by the third time, she restored only a few health points. He was able to slide backwards and come up to a sitting position, though his lips were pressed together tightly as if he was still in pain. He tried to speak, but it sounded like his throat was closing, and his breath was beginning to have a distinct and worrying wheeze in it.

Pandy thought again.

Minor Heal successful.

Healed Augustus Blackwood for 8 HP.

He’d just been at full health, she was certain of it, but now he was down eight? Holding onto the chancellor’s arm, Pandy turned to stare at the box. It sat there atop the desk, lid open invitingly, but when she squinted, she could see two miniscule pins protruding from each side, right where a person would grip the box as they unlocked it. Poison.

Continuing to apply Minor Heal periodically, Pandy said, “Zephra? Zephra, are you here?” No comforting breeze or tiny figure answered her, and Pandy looked back at Augustus. It was obvious that he was struggling to breathe now, and Pandy was having none of it.

“Is there an antidote?” she asked, and he nodded. One hand reached up to grope at the lapel of his jacket, pushing it aside to reveal the little pocket that magically contained whatever he needed. “It’s in there?” she asked, already reaching for it.

He shook his head, lips shaping a word even she could make out. “Supposed to be? Then why isn’t it?” Tears filled her eyes as she healed him again and again, noting that as time went on, the poison seemed to be working more quickly, not less.

The corner of his bloodless lips ticked up, and he choked a bit, but managed to mouth, “Forgot.”

She wanted to take hold of his shoulders and scream, “How could you forget?” but she didn’t. Instead, she healed him over and over, then leaned down and scooped him up into her arms. It was a horribly awkward affair, with his legs dangling as she struggled to make sure his chest and head were fully supported, so he could breathe. If he survived this, she would have to practice the princess carry, just in case she ever had to do such a thing again. It always looked so easy in videos!

Rather than trying to turn the doorknob, Pandy just put her foot on the door next to the knob and pushed. It resisted, protested, then broke with a crack. But dinner was still going on downstairs, and the sound must have gotten lost amid the cheerful conversation, because no one came to investigate.

Pandy hauled the unresisting – and unhelpful – chancellor down to his office, where she repeated the trick of breaking the door. She cast Minor Heal with every third step, but by the time she laid him down by his own desk, that wasn’t enough, and she made a Gregorian chant of it inside her mind.

Minor Heal successful.

Healed Augustus Blackwood for 20 HP.

How many times had she healed him now? Twenty? Thirty? Thanking whatever gods who might be listening – Keros, where are you? – for her huge Mana pool, Pandy looked around the room, then back down at Augustus. His eyes were closed, but they fluttered open when she said, “Where is it? Augustus! Where is it?”

His head rolled to the side, and for a moment, she thought he might have lost consciousness, or worse, but then she looked in that direction and saw the door of his apartment. How could she have been so stupid? Of course he kept what were probably extremely rare, expensive, possibly dangerous potions in his own private space! Well, that was all right, because she’d just learned she could kick down doors.

This one didn’t budge when she kicked it, though. It didn’t Scratch, and, when she really got desperate, she found she couldn’t Bite off the knob, either. Damn it, Augustus, why did you have to protect your rooms so well?

Turning, Pandy saw that the chancellor was watching her, his eyes glassy, but a small smile on his lips. She shot several more heals toward him, but each time they were for the full twenty points, no matter how quickly she cast the spell.

If the door was locked, where was the key? Pandy’s gaze caught on his hand, which was now stretched out in her direction, palm up. She could see callouses that once again argued that whatever he’d done before becoming chancellor of Falconet, it hadn’t been entirely academic, but that hand also looked strangely helpless, lying there, relaxed and open. Pandy had never once thought of Augustus as a helpless person, but here he was, and here she was, the only person who knew what was going on and could help him.

As if the sight of that hand had jumpstarted her brain, though, Pandy realized there were no keys in Falconet. At least not any that were used on a regular basis. Instead, the magic of the door recognized the user, so Pandy leaped back to Augustus’s side, heaving him up in her arms and carrying him over to place his palm on the doorknob. It clicked open, but he was gasping now, each breath raspy and pained, and every one of her rapid-fire heals vanished as if into a bottomless pit. She was running a race against an opponent she couldn’t beat, and she was officially going to lose, soon.

Turning, Pandy pushed open the door with her rear, hauling Augustus inside as she stared around at his home. Table, chair, two doors. No decorations, no cozy seat for hiding large amounts of money, or fluffy pillows to snuggle into at the end of a long day. Frankly, it looked unoccupied. That was all right, because it made her search simple. Nothing here meant no hiding places. Next!

The next door was the bathroom, and Pandy couldn’t even pause to admire the luxury of that. How nice would it be to have her own bathroom again, without having to share with anyone else? Not that she needed the toilet, but now that she could spend a decent amount of time as a human, she could also take a bath. A long one, with bubbles, and maybe some candles that didn’t trip oversensitive smoke alarms.

No potions, and nowhere to hide potions, however. If she was even looking for a potion. What if it was a pill? A tiny tablet that could literally be concealed anywhere? “Zephra!” Pandy shouted again, but again there was no response. As she closed her mouth, she tasted salt, and realized that she had been crying this whole time.

“Augustus?” she asked, her feet carrying her back through the main room, to the other door, which had to be his bedroom. His eyes didn’t even flicker, and she gave him a little shake. His head bobbled, and she felt a fresh flood of terror fill her. “Augustus! Gus!”

This drew the tiniest response. His eyes moved beneath the lids, which seemed so thin now, parchment drawn over a fading light. He tried to speak, but couldn’t even get his mouth to move, and she laid him on the bed, disturbing sheets and blankets so tightly tucked that even Isidor would envy his bed-making skills.

“Where’s the antidote, Gus?” Pandy demanded. His eyes slitted open, and she could see that the whites were bloodshot, almost pink. It took too long for him to process where they were, but then his head rolled again, his nose – how had she ever thought it was too large? Far from it. She wished it was an arrow, a Pinocchio-nose, a neon sign in the middle of his face – pointing not toward another door, which should be the closet, but toward a tiny, round table, which stood, completely empty, on the far side of the bed.

“There’s nothing there. Gus!” Pandy called to him, but he was out again, no longer reacting even to the hated nickname. Pandy rolled across the bed, hands running over the table, flipping it to reveal the underside, tracing the legs and small, delicate feet. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Her gaze tracked to the wall, which was painted a bland and unblemished ecru.

In a fit of frustrated fury, Pandy punched a hole in the wall. It was shockingly easy, the lathe and plaster collapsing beneath her hand, which hurt, because while she was super strong, she wasn’t invulnerable, but she ignored the admittedly excruciating pain of at least one broken bone, and pulled out the box that was hidden behind the wall. No doubt there was some complex mechanism that would have opened it, but Pandy didn’t have time for that, and neither did Augustus.

Turning back to the man lying so still on the bed, his wheezing breaths now shallow and intermittent, Pandy continued casting Minor Heals even when the System helpfully informed her that she was using her own Life Force because she’d run out of Mana. Pandy’s fingers dug into the wood, and she flipped the lid open. Thankfully, Augustus wasn’t as horrible as whoever poisoned the box from the Shadow Exchange, because nothing blew up or tried to hurt her as she did so.

Inside were bottles. Several of them. And on each bottle was a label, marked in small, neat script with the name of the draught. Carefully, in case one of these turned out to be what she needed after all, Pandy tossed them onto the pillow after reading them. Flame R. No, probably not. Air R. Onto the pillow. Lightning R. This one was half-empty, but it went with the others, clinking gently as their weight made them roll together.

Roseglow. Elixir M. Breath of S. Shadow P. Pandy hesitated before putting that one aside, her eyes scanning the rest of the bottles. All of the other names were either unhelpful or clearly wrong. But the poison came from the Shadow Exchange, at least as far as Pandy knew. Did the P in the potion’s name stand for Poison? Was this the antidote, or was it a sample of the actual poison?

With no time to figure it out, and the only person who would know unconscious, Pandy cracked the wax seal, then removed a lid that definitely wasn’t made of cork. A sickly-sweet scent rose from the bottle, and Pandy took a tiny sip, waiting for a message that she’d just poisoned herself. When none came, she transferred it to Augustus’s colorless lips, and began to pour.

At first, she thought it would just dribble out again, or, worse, that he’d actually inhale it, and she’d just hasten along the inevitable. Pandy actually started to withdraw the bottle at this thought, but then his throat contracted, and she heard the distinct sound of a gulp.

Pulling away, she gave him a moment to breathe, though she was still pouring heals into him. Parts of her were beginning to not work very well, and she was fairly certain one of her legs had fallen off, but after he took a breath, she tipped the bottle to his lips again, pouring the rest of the contents in as quickly as she could.

Her vision was growing dark, and she couldn’t read the notices the System was sending her, but she knew they weren’t good. That was all right, though, because she did see Augustus’s eyes flicker, then open, and she dimly realized that his glasses had fallen off, probably while she was schlepping him down the hall. What would people think, if they found the glasses, along with two smashed doors, a broken wall, and a partially dismembered teacher lying in the chancellor’s bed?

That thought made her realize that she had one more thing to do, so she thought,