Lucky Rabbit

It was late morning on Wednesday when Thaniel and Pandy woke up. Lian had missed another day of school, since he refused to leave Thaniel after finding an unconscious rabbit on his brother’s face. That meant they spent much of Wednesday at the hospital, waiting for the gears of bureaucracy to turn, and still arrived at Falconet late, but not ‘everyone is in bed already’ late. Mistress Rose met them at the door, and her flat stare did more to keep curious children away than the chancellor’s presence did.

It was decided – by the healer, without pausing for input from anyone else – that Thaniel would stay in the infirmary Wednesday night and Thursday, and they would reassess Thursday evening. Thaniel looked rebellious and insisted he was fine, but Lian nodded his head in agreement, which convinced his little brother to give in with a sigh.

They got dinner in bed that night, and then Thaniel fell asleep again. The day had been emotionally exhausting, but he’d been fighting to stay awake for hours, so Pandy was fairly certain that Mistress Rose had spiked his food again. That was probably for the best, because if Pandy had just had the most terrible memory-slash-nightmare ever, she wouldn’t exactly be looking forward to sleeping again, either.

As soon as the boy was out, Timon sent an elemental for Mistress Rose, and when she arrived, Augustus was hot on her heels. The healer checked Thaniel over, even glancing at his heartstone, before nodding in satisfaction and sitting down in Timon’s vacated chair.

“I’ll stay with him,” she said quietly, “but he should sleep until morning.” Ah, yes, that confirmed Pandy’s theory about potions in the food. Eventually, Thaniel was going to get wise to this trick and refuse to eat, but thankfully today was not that day.

“Without dreaming?” Augustus asked, coming over to stand beside Thaniel’s bed.

Mistress Rose snorted softly. “Of course.”

The chancellor gave her an apologetic smile, then crouched next to Pandy. “May I have a word?” he asked. Pandy glanced at the healer, but the woman was focused on what looked like some kind of complex handicraft involving six colors of thick thread and several pointy sticks. She didn’t even look up as Pandy nodded and stood on her hind legs so she could be picked up.

It was good to hear the students’ chatter in the distance, and a sense of normalcy fell over Pandy, making her realize she’d been on edge for so long that she hadn’t even noticed the tension any more. In spite of everything, she still felt safest within the walls of Falconet, and that feeling of security was only heightened by the fact that she was nestled in Augustus’s arms.

Of course, as soon as they entered his office, he placed her on the closest chair, then circled around behind his desk. There was a distinct stiffness in the way he held himself that told her she wasn’t going to enjoy whatever he had to say. This was reinforced by the seriousness of his voice as he said, “Do you have any time left on your spell, Pandora?”

In answer, Pandy thought, and found herself crouching in the chair. Blushing, she rearranged herself until she was properly seated, once again glad she wasn’t wearing skirts, which probably would have made their way up around her head somehow.

“What’s going on?” she asked, then hurried on before he could answer. “If it’s about the house, I can explain…”

He shook his head, almost managing a smile, then stood abruptly before bowing. “I’m sorry,” he told her, not looking up. “You trusted me with Thaniel, and I allowed him and Eleanor to be abducted. I’ve already offered Her Majesty my resignation, and I hope you’ll accept my apology.”

Pandy felt her stomach sink. Oh, no. No, she definitely did not like this at all. Admittedly, Augustus did have an ability to find trouble that very nearly rivaled her own, but she’d never once doubted that he would also manage to get himself and everyone else out of that trouble. There was just something so terribly competent about him. Plus, she really, really enjoyed his company.

She found herself on her feet in front of his desk, and crouched down so she could stare up into his face as he bowed. “Please don’t,” she told him, reaching up to place her hands on his cheeks. She yanked the traitorous appendages back just as quickly, her own cheeks flushing hot, but she’d managed to startle him into straightening, so that was a win.

“I really don’t want you to leave, and I don’t blame you for those people taking Thaniel. I mean, they did that, not you. Sure, it probably wasn’t a great idea to take him and Eleanor out on a cold, dark night when everyone was wearing a costume so you couldn’t even tell who might be planning something sneaky, but we all decided to go along with it, including Queen Louisa, and she didn’t accept your resignation, did she?” Pandy’s rush of words ended with her leaning over the desk, gazing up at him pleadingly, and Augustus stared back until he let his breath out in a huff.

“No,” he admitted. “She withdrew Eleanor from school, though, since it’s obvious that her identity was compromised, and I can’t keep her safe.” His voice was thick with self-recrimination, and Pandy winced. Thanks to Gacha Love, they’d known something had to happen to cause Eleanor to leave school, but not what, and Pandy had really been hoping to prevent it, or at least hold it off for longer.

“So what will Ellie do now? Tutors?” Pandy asked, and Augustus nodded grimly.

“She’ll be sent out of Knightmere, too,” he confirmed. “Which means Isidor is no longer needed here, so he’ll be leaving as well. The crown will still pay for Geraldine to attend school this year, but next year the Reedsleys will be on their own.”

That was bad. That was really, really bad. Yes, Isidor could be difficult, but Pandy trusted him almost as much as she trusted Augustus. Who would be Thaniel’s roommate? Would they be forced to pretend Pandy was a normal rabbit for someone new? And what about Thaniel? He’d be miserable without three-quarters of his friend group.

“What about Abbington?” Pandy asked, feeling her face beginning to melt into despair.

One corner of Augustus’s mouth turned up. “He’s fine, at least as long as Brook remains with him. I don’t know that Louisa will continue to sponsor him after he graduates from Falconet, but children with elemental companions often become leaders in their community, one way or another, and it’s best that influential people feel indebted to, or at least friendly towards, the crown.”

Abbington? Influential? Pandy thought about the quiet boy, and realized that she could see it. He wasn’t outspoken, but he was calm and insightful, always there to provide a comforting sense of stability to his more excitable friends. He would be a steadfast and thoughtful leader, if given the opportunity.

She shook her head. “But Isidor- Can’t he stay? I mean, he needs to go to school, too.”

“He does, but he’s not actually eight years old,” Augustus said. “He should be at Kestrel, with other students his age. Not that he’s likely to get the opportunity,” he muttered, then pinched his lips together, as if that last bit had just slipped out.

“What?” Pandy demanded, feeling her own indignation rise on behalf of the older boy. “Why not? He’s incredibly intelligent, and he’s very good at being sneaky. He’d be a really good Knight of the Royal Eagle someday.” She felt a bit dirty suggesting Isidor join the group Dorian had so longed to be part of, but really, he would be good at it, even though she didn’t think blind obedience would ever be his schtick.

Augustus hesitated, then sighed. “That was originally the plan,” he admitted, sinking down into his seat. “That or… what I used to do. By the time he’d be ready to take on the position, my successor should be planning to retire. But he did something that disqualified him for the role, and now his future is far more uncertain.”

Pandy stared at him. “What does that mean? Why couldn’t he do that job? And why do I feel like ‘uncertain’ is a very squidgy way of saying something bad is likely to happen to him?”

The chancellor stared back for an instant, then pulled off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, where little indentations marked his skin. He let out a dry chuckle, then replaced the glasses and gestured to Pandy’s abandoned seat. “If you’re going to refuse to let me abase myself, at least sit down. I’m a bit afraid you’re going to climb over my desk and throttle me until I tell you everything. Which is undoubtedly no less than I deserve, but would make it difficult to explain.”

That wasn’t entirely out of the question at this point, especially when Pandy realized that she had one foot off the ground in preparation for climbing up onto the desk. To be fair, she spent a great deal of time on top of objects like tables and desks as a rabbit, and the mostly-unspoken rule against going over furniture rather than around it had apparently evaporated somewhere along the way.

Once she was seated, Augustus rubbed the back of his neck once more, then said, “While people who hold my former position are allowed to give their opinions on who might best succeed them, we aren’t allowed to select or train our replacements. This prevents any one family or political group from taking control of one of the most powerful, albeit secretive, positions in the country.”

He tapped his fingers rhythmically against the desk, looking conflicted, then said, “There are a few rules which significantly restrict the options, as well, and sometimes the position remains empty for months or even years, until someone with the right qualifications can be found and trained.”

Holding up one finger, he said, “First, they must have some noble blood in them. They don’t have to be high nobility, or even legitimate, but their lineage must go back to Nora or one of her original supporters. Second, they need to have powerful innate magic, for reasons which will become obvious soon. Third, they must have a companion elemental as a child, even if that elemental leaves them later in life. Fourth,” he paused again, then folded down the four fingers he was now holding up, turning the hand into a fist. “They cannot have a single contracted elemental.”

Pandy’s mouth formed an ‘o’. “But Isidor-”

“Formed a contract with his Lightning elemental, yes,” Augustus said wearily. “He was ten, and he’d just discovered how to form a contract, and that most noble children of his age had at least one elemental. He’d also spent much of his life isolated from other people, and I have it on good authority that his elemental was beginning to spend less time with him. I believe he may have been frightened that she would leave him, and rather than accept that, he made a contract with her.”

“But you can’t force a contract on an elemental of Tier Three or higher, can you? Because Tempest definitely isn’t weak.” Pandy said, frowning as she thought back to the lore of Gacha Love. This world was so real, and so like the game, that she tended to assume they were identical – right up until one of the differences smacked her in the face with a damp haddock.

Augustus shook his head. “Tempest definitely agreed to the contract,” he confirmed, “but it doesn’t matter, at least for this. Some elementals can sense other elementals, even follow them back to their contractors. Certain Dark elementals are particularly good at this. You can’t hunt down rogue mages and infiltrate secret organizations when you have a constant, blaring indicator that you’re present and powerful.”

Pandy’s brain finally caught up, and she let out a little gasp of realization. “Which means you had an elemental when you were young,” she said, “and that you don’t have any contracts now. But what about Zephra and Cieris and the big Air-head that you talked to that one time?”

For the first time since he’d apologized, his eyes twinkled, just a bit. “Air-head, hmm? But no, Cieris and Zephra stay with me because they choose to do so. Zephra has been with me since I was eight years old.” He smiled a little wistfully, then sobered as he added, “Nimien is contracted to the school, as is Professor Beeswick.”

Pandy stiffened, feeling like Tempest had climbed up behind her and given her a particularly invigorating bite on the buttock. “Professor Beeswick is an elemental?”

Brows nearly merging with his hairline, Augustus said, “You didn’t know? He said you could see through his illusion.”

“Illusion?” Pandy asked, then thought about it. How many times had someone mentioned that the librarian was old, or odd, or just not been sufficiently awed by his presence? Pandy herself had never thought to ask, because when he was killed in Gacha Love, the person who reported his death so nonchalantly referred to him as a dragon. Was that dragon with a little ‘d’, or Dragon with a capital ‘D’, as in a type of elemental, though? She couldn’t remember now. It simply hadn’t stood out among all the other murders except for the strange tidbit that he wasn’t human.

Augustus nodded. “You know so much about our world that I still forget that things we learn as a matter of course are sometimes completely unknown to you.” He leaned forward, some of the tension easing from his face as he settled into teaching mode.

“There’s much debate about where elementals actually come from. Some people believe they are ‘born’ in the instant they appear, while others think they’re created somewhere else, and are summoned to our world when the correct conditions are met to allow them entry. Not even the elementals themselves seem to know the truth, since those who can communicate say their first memories are hazy and fade rapidly.

“Whatever the truth may be, while the various types of elementals have their own abilities, each individual also has a personality, strengths, and weaknesses. Depending on their own experiences, they may continue to exist like a wild beast, following only their own inclinations and instincts, or they may become more…” He tilted his head, searching for the right word. “Cultured? Humane?”

“Human?” Pandy murmured, glancing down at her own hands. Or not her hands, but those of the shape she’d borrowed to cover another shape she’d borrowed to cover a third shape she wore like a costume with a stuck zipper.

Augustus shifted, clearly uncomfortable, but sighed. “If you wish. I find that all of the elementals I know are themselves, wearing only a veneer of humanity, but the more time they spend with us, the more they learn to fit within our limited view of the world. You are… an anomaly. In many ways.”

He flashed a smile at her, and the warmth in that smile almost managed to chase the chill from her bones. “You seem to have sprung into being fully-formed and aware. I assume this is because of your unique circumstances, but perhaps others like you are everywhere, and simply choose not to reveal themselves.”

He shrugged. “But in the time since Queen Nora, when she outlawed forcing or tricking elementals into forming unfair contracts, we’ve spoken to many third- and fourth-tier elementals, and all of them say they remember nothing from before they woke. Some say they believe they may have wandered, with no true awareness of time or self, until they encountered humans. Then, over time, they changed to become more and more like us. Beeswick has been under contract for longer than anyone can remember, and no one has any idea how to release him.”

His eyes went dark with anger. “Not that the few people who know what he really is have bothered to try too hard. He’s very useful just as he is, after all.” Shaking his head, he added, “In any case, I assumed you knew about Beeswick, as well as the abilities of your own type of elemental. I’m sorry. Again.”

He gave a wry smile, but Pandy was too busy putting all of the pieces together to be able to appreciate it. Honestly, it explained so much. Not just about the librarian, but about elementals in general, and even Pandy herself. “Wait,” she said, looking up, “does that mean I can track a Dark elementalist through their elemental? I can find whoever is behind all of these attacks on Thaniel and Eleanor?”

Augustus drew in a long breath, letting it out slowly before he admitted, “That… is entirely possible, yes, though I suspect it would be easier said than done.”