Lucky Rabbit

Pandy stared from Professor Beeswick to the series of numbers, then back to the Professor, utterly incredulous. If he knew all this, why was he still here? Surely someone was looking for a man who had been missing for a full day!

She wasn’t sure if the professor picked up on her incredulity, or if he’d just been gathering his thoughts before continuing, but he said, “Augustus reported this to his superior before leaving, and measures are being taken to protect the children. So far as I can tell, however, no one is particularly concerned about Augustus’s absence. He is, after all, well known for, ah, working alone under dangerous conditions.”

What exactly had Augustus done before becoming chancellor of Falconet? There had been a number of clues that whatever it was, it hadn’t been either peaceful or safe, but now she was starting to suspect he might have been something like a spy, or, worse, an assassin. Could she respect someone who’d killed people for a living? Could she…like them?

Reaching into his robe again – did everyone but Pandy have magic pockets? – Professor Beeswick withdrew another piece of paper. Once he began unfolding it, Pandy quickly realized that it was a map, and a large one. Better yet, it was one she recognized.

“This is Knightmere. Falconet is here,” the dragon said, pointing to a spot in the northwest. “A grid is used to indicate where objects are.” Touching the number six at the top, and the letter D to the left, he brought his fingers together at Falconet once again. “There’s a map of Astrug in the book I acquired from Ms. Wellington’s room, and Augustus theorized that it might tell us where the meeting is meant to take place.”

He held up his hand, and a book rose from the circulation desk and flew to him. He didn’t even seem to notice, just opening the book to a place marked by a ribbon. “This is the map, and it’s on page sixty-four, which are the first two numbers of the meeting place. That leaves the number three, three, twelve on our little cipher, and if we guess that the word thirty-three wasn’t used in the book anywhere, then our coordinates are thirty-three across and twelve down, or vice versa.”

Even though Pandy couldn’t read the map, which looked like it had been transcribed in what she assumed was the original Astrugian, she could tell there weren’t thirty-three squares across in the image. That left twelve across and thirty-three down, which was the very south-eastern square. Pandy leaned forward, squinting at it, only to find her head bumping into Miss Cupcakes’. They each jerked back, staring at each other, then mutually decided to pretend the contact had never happened and leaned in again.

Professor Beeswick sounded amused when he said, “The only thing of note in that square is a very small town which, surprisingly, still exists today. It has always been too insignificant for anyone to care about, and so it remains after larger towns and cities were razed or absorbed into nearby settlements. It’s called Ostren, which means,” his lips parted in a feral grin, “Hare’s Burrow or Rabbit’s Den.”

Pandy’s rear end impacted the table with a fluffy thump, and she stared at the dragon. Was he joking? Now? But no, in spite of the brief grin, he looked entirely serious. Shifting the papers so the map of Knightmere was on top again, Professor Beeswick stabbed the page with a talon, pinning a street corner which also happened to be in the south-east corner of this map. “And right here,” he told her, “is a tavern, best known for its sour beers and fresh-baked rolls, which is called the Rabbit’s Den.”

It was a good thing Pandy hadn’t tried to stand up, because she definitely would have sat down again if she had. What were the odds that that was all just a coincidence? A coincidence that was brought about by comparing two things that had nothing to do with each other except that they were both maps. There was a meme going around just before she died, listing different types of fallacies that could be used in arguments, and she was almost certain this would be on there somewhere.

Still, it was probably better than nothing, and while Pandy loathed beer, maybe Augustus just went to check it out, drank too much, and was still passed out somewhere? Though he didn’t really strike her as the type to get drunk, so probably not.

Of course, there was always the possibility that he’d gone out before he was fully recovered from being poisoned, passed out, and simply gotten robbed or run over by a cart. Which, in a way, would be Pandy’s fault. Especially since he probably wouldn’t have seen any particular meaning in a bunny-adjacent town name if Pandy herself wasn’t here, distracting him from whatever it was that he was supposed to be doing.

Reaching out, Pandy placed a paw over the little hole Professor Beeswick had punched in the map. Looking up at him, she tilted her head to the side and thought,

The dragon frowned down at her, then shook his head. “I almost got it that time,” he told her. “But if you’re asking to go there, that can certainly be arranged. Not that I would normally ask an untrained person to take on such a task, but after seeing your recovery on Friday, I have high hopes that you’ll survive the experience. I would suggest waiting until after dark, however. People will probably notice a rabbit running around the city in broad daylight. Unless, of course, you intend to go as Ms. Wellington, which I would not suggest. That isn’t the best part of town, and a woman alone should be ready and able to defend herself.”

He gave a little snort. “Anyone in that area should be ready and able to defend themselves. And, unfortunately, I cannot join you, nor can I send anyone else to help. I have no authority over those humans who protect the school, and can only offer aid within its walls. Until Augustus’s superior decides to become concerned, I’m as helpless as you appear to be.”

For an instant, real anger crossed his usually placid face before he tucked it away again. Pandy was glad he did, because if she thought he usually looked a bit ‘other’, when he was angry, he very definitely seemed like a dragon. A furious dragon, with long claws and lots of meat-shredding teeth. Who was telling him he couldn’t go after Augustus, and why weren’t they huddled in a corner, apologizing for it?

Pandy nodded understanding, then glanced back at the library door, but hesitated before hopping down. When she glanced at Professor Beeswick, he smiled slightly, back to his usual aloof, mildly amused aspect. “You’ll know when it’s time to go. And I’ll make sure you’re back before your Thaniel can miss you in the morning.”

She had no idea how he was going to do that, but somehow, she was certain he could. So she jumped down from the table and made her way back to the door, thinking, as she went. The god’s reply scrolled across her vision as the door swung open ahead of her, no gymnastics required.

What?

Soon.

I told you.

she pressed. A long pause answered her, and she hoped he was checking…something, rather than pouting because she didn’t like his vague answers.

Tonight.

Probably.

Pandy asked as she made her way back to the dining hall. The conversation with Professor Beeswick had seemed to take forever, but the bell hadn’t even rung to let the students know it was time to return to their rooms.

I’ll try to let you know.

It may be…disorienting.

Okay. Well, good news and bad news there, but Pandy would take what she could get. She just hoped that she would get her spells back before she needed them, and that it wouldn’t happen at the worst possible time. Honestly, she didn’t actually expect she’d get that lucky – past experience told her the probability of anything she was involved with going smoothly was exactly zero – but if she gave up and cowered in her room every time things looked bad, she’d have starved to death long before she had her fatal encounter with a truck.

Thaniel was sitting right where she’d left him, but while the other children were playing a game with small, ornate tiles that looked like dominoes, he was watching the door. When he saw her enter, he jumped up and ran toward her, picking her up and snuggling his face into her fur. He didn’t cry this time, but there were definitely a few sniffles before he held her out and gave her a stern look.

“You haveta tell me before you leave, Bunny,” he told her. “I was worried.”

Geraldine came up beside him, smiling just as broadly at Miss Cupcakes, though she didn’t attempt to pick the kitten up until the feline wound her way around the girl’s ankles. Lowering her voice, Geraldine said, “You told me we have to listen to them, right?” She looked straight at Pandy. “Do you want to stay with Thaniel?”

Pandy’s chest tightened, but she nodded yes. Did she think she’d actually get to stay with Thaniel? Sometimes yes, and sometimes no. The truth was, he was a child right now, but someday he wouldn’t be. Now that she knew she was an elemental, Pandy supposed she had the option of forming a contract with him, which would truly bind them together, but she didn’t want to. She wanted to know that they were together because they wanted to be, that every day they decided again to be part of each other’s lives. Someday, Thaniel might not want to make that decision, and that was okay, but Pandy was certain she would always want to be near him in some capacity. Maybe she could be his big sister, and remind him to eat his vegetables and only date nice people?

Geraldine stroked Miss Cupcakes for a few seconds before hesitantly saying, “Sometimes Miss Cupcakes doesn’t stay in my room at night.” Thaniel looked up, eyes widening, but Geraldine hurried on. “If she scratches at the door, I let her in and out, but sometimes she’s just gone. She always comes back, though, just like she promised.”

Thaniel sighed, looking down at Pandy. “Bunny promised she’d always come back, too. But,” his lips pressed together, and fresh tears welled in his eyes. “Mama promised she’d always be there, too.”

Geraldine instantly reached out and hugged the small boy, an act that pressed Pandy and Miss Cupcakes into much closer proximity than the kitten, for one, would have preferred. Pandy didn’t really mind, since there were no claws involved, and she was glad Thaniel had a friend who knew when it was time to talk, and when it was time to hug.

In fact, it seemed he had several, because soon Eleanor joined in, and Abbington really threw himself into it, his sturdy arms wrapping around the other three. Then Matilda was there, patting them all on the back, and Suzanne stood by, wringing her hands and looking around at the children who were now staring at them.

“Perhaps we should go into the foyer?” the Dark mage asked, shifting nervously beneath the weight of all those eyes. But Thaniel extricated himself from the group hug and reached out to draw her in. The tall girl stiffened beneath his embrace, but when Matilda, Geraldine, Eleanor, and even Abbington hugged her as well, she gave a little laugh, shoulders slumping.

“I think you must all be tired,” Matilda eventually declared, stepping away and tossing back her ringlets. “You’re so young, it’s past your bedtime.”

“We all have the same bedtime,” Geraldine said, sticking out her chin, and Eleanor giggled.

“I always went to bed after midnight,” she told them. “Mother said most social events happen in the afternoon and evening, so I might as well get used to it. I’d usually get up at noon and sometimes stay up all night.”

They all moved back toward their table, each one contributing a little information about their own schedules before they started school. The focus of the other students drifted away from them naturally, and the conversation remained relaxed and cheerful until the bell rang and they began picking up the pieces of their game. There were a few groans as Matilda cheerfully reminded them that they would have class again in the morning, but no one seemed genuinely unhappy, and they walked together until the boys paused on the stairs while the girls continued down their hall.

Isidor watched Eleanor until she and Geraldine vanished into their room, then reluctantly made his way up the steps after Thaniel. Neither boy spoke until they reached their room, when Thaniel said, “Would you let Tempest wander around without you?”

The older boy already had his wardrobe open and was taking out a nightgown, but he hesitated at this. “I…yes. She can-” He stopped, looking down at the turtle who was poking her head up out of his pocket, gazing at him with enigmatic orange eyes. “She chose to come to me. A long time ago. And I was afraid…that she wouldn’t stay. So I did something I shouldn’t have, and now I don’t know if she would even stay with me, if she had the option to leave.”

Lifting his head, he looked into Thaniel’s eyes and spoke with painful sincerity. “If you don’t let her go, you’ll hate yourself for it later.” One corner of his mouth twitched upward. “Besides, that rabbit is remarkably good at getting into and out of trouble. It’s probably best to let her do it without you.” Grabbing his nightclothes, he shut the door to the wardrobe with a little more force than necessary, then left the room, presumably heading for the bathroom.

Pandy looked at Thaniel. Isidor’s last comment hadn’t helped her case, since Thaniel didn’t mind adventures, and already worried about her, but it seemed like the first part had hit home hard enough to more than balance it out.

Thaniel sighed, hugging Pandy close, then falling backward onto his bed so he could curl up around her. “D’you need to leave again, Bunny?” he asked. Reluctantly Pandy nodded, and Thaniel sniffed, but didn’t cry. “But you’ll be back in the morning?”

She thought about Professor Beeswick’s promise that she’d be back before Thaniel could miss her, and nodded with more confidence. “All right, then,” Thaniel told her. “I won’t try to stop you from going any more. Only come back, all right?”

Pandy stretched up and tickled his nose with her whiskers until he giggled and sneezed. she promised, and he smiled.