Lucky Rabbit

When someone felt sick, were they nauseous, or nauseated? Pandy was almost certain it was nauseated, but maybe this was one of those cases where you could use either one? Whichever it was, she was glad to have something to focus on other than the gurgling of whatever passed for her stomach. She had sixty-eight Corruption Points now, but she had to ask: was it worth it? Her innards said no, and honestly, Pandy was in no position to argue with them, since they had every reason to rise up in revolt.

Fortunately, either rabbits in general lacked the ability to vomit, or Pandy specifically did, because in spite of the rebellion in her gut, everything she’d drunk was staying…wherever it went when she ingested it. All that was left was to try the next step of a process she dreaded almost as much as drinking more of the slurry in the bottom of the wash basin.

Again the long pause, then-

Use Fifty-two (52) Corruption Points to cast Vita Herbalis?

Pandy clenched her teeth. This part had been unpleasant last time, and she had no reason to believe it was going to be better this time. Still, she was quite firm as she said, And she was right. It definitely wasn’t better this time. In fact, it was definitely worse, but all of her bits stayed where they were supposed to, and soon enough, more words appeared in front of her.

Vita Herbalis successful. Vita Herbalis is now level 1.

This time the whole pot of soup glowed gently, light bursting from each small bubble as it rose to the surface and burst. The scent of herbs redoubled, and Pandy’s guts unclenched. She edged forward, almost dancing over the now-hot stove, and used both paws to turn the knob that controlled the fire beneath the pot. The fire died, and Pandy started to move away, content to let the soup cool before she tried it. Then her ears stood up straight as a sound reached her. Footsteps.

Quick as a thought, Pandy darted forward and chomped down on the rim of the pot, taking the soup into her inventory. With a back foot, she kicked the filthy towel into the dregs of the ‘potion’, then hopped backwards until her fluffy tail bumped into it, making it rock loudly once before she placed it into her inventory as well. She cast a despairing glance around at the rest of the mess she’d left, but hopped down off the counter, hiding in the deepest shadow beneath the enormous table.

“-smelled something,” a woman’s voice rose above the click click of high-heeled shoes.

“Yes, ma’am,” a man’s voice answered, sounding tired. “This happens every now and then. Sometimes students get hungry. They’re growing-”

“It’s against the rules,” the woman said as one of the doors to the kitchen swung wide. It was the same door Pandy had used, indicating that these two had probably come from upstairs, where the on-site teachers and staff lived. And of course the smell of the soup would have invaded the living spaces. Argh!

A rather short, roundish figure stood framed in the doorway, with a taller but shadow looming behind it. The first figure hissed a few words, and an orange light flickered into being, looking like a fire hanging in mid-air. A fire mage, then.

“Look around,” the woman snarled, flicking her fingers to the right. The man behind her – a middle-aged man with deep shadows beneath his eyes and a bit of a paunch not at all concealed by his sagging robe – obediently moved in the direction she indicated, though he didn’t produce a light of his own.

Pandy flattened herself against the ground, cursing her white fur. There was nothing she could do about it, either. If either of them looked under the table, especially with that light, her goose would be cooked. And who didn’t look under the single massive piece of furniture in the center of a room they were searching?

The woman stomped off in one direction, each snap of her heels against the stone tiles sounding like a gunshot in Pandy’s mind. For all that she’d half-expected to be caught, somehow Pandy hadn’t thought it would be this terrifying to huddle, waiting for the inevitable. She was tempted to just hop out into the open and get it over with, but then the man crouched, the belt of his robe pulling taut over his round belly, and his eyes growing just as round as he took in the sight of a rabbit staring straight back at him.

“Well?” the woman snapped, and the man’s lips pressed tightly together before he straightened.

“Nothing,” he said with much-abused patience. “They must have taken their food and left.”

“Hmph,” the woman said. “I’ll go speak to Ms. Davenport and that ridiculous little man. What was his name?”

“Mr. Musgrave, ma’am?” the robed man asked.

“Yes, yes. We’ll check all the students’ rooms and find out who’s awake or missing. The term hasn’t even begun yet, and children are running about as if they have the freedom of the school. I’m quite certain the Chancellor will want to hear about this.” The woman slammed shut the drawer she had been looking in, as if some oblong student might have stuffed themselves into it, and thrust her way back out of the door.

Pandy and the man waited in silence as darkness descended around them, and then shuffling footsteps moved through the kitchen, which was once again painted in nothing but the moonlight streaming in through windows along one wall. A cabinet opened and closed before a scraping sound preceded a new, fainter light.

Once again the man crouched down, this time holding a simple candle holder with a half-burned candle in the center of it. A flame flickered merrily at the end of the wick, reflecting in the man’s dark eyes. He held out a hand, clucking his tongue softly at Pandy.

“There y’are, little one,” he murmured. “I heard some of the students would have pets this year. Did you get out of your owner’s room? And of course you’d follow your nose straight here, though I admit I don’t know how you got all the vegetables out. Unless you came with your owner, and they ran off when they heard that harpy coming?”

He shook his head, muttering, “I only wish I’d been smart enough to do the same. I don’t know why the chancellor hired her. This is going to be a long year.”

Since he didn’t seem interested in either hurting her or telling on her, Pandy edged forward, sniffing his fingers. He smelled like soap and something else, maybe some kind of spice? He didn’t move as she drew closer and closer, until she was finally close enough to grab, at which point he gently placed his fingers around her middle and scooped her up. Pandy allowed it, secure in the knowledge that she could Bite or Scratch her way free if she really needed to. She wasn’t even sure this man had magic, but if he did, she didn’t think it wasn’t dangerous.

Only when she was snuggled against him did he breathe a deep sigh, groaning slightly as he levered his way to his feet. He hitched at the belt of his robe and gave Pandy a smile that made his eyes twinkle.

“Well now,” he said. “Let’s see if the missus knows where you belong, and then I suppose I’ll come back here and clean up.” He sighed again, and Pandy glanced around, seeing scattered chunks of vegetables, spilled broth, and various dirty spoons and bowls. She buried her nose beneath her paws. She would definitely have to find a way to make this up to him. Somehow.

The man carried her back out of the kitchen, up the shadowy stairs, and to a door halfway down a long hall. There, he tapped gently on the door before opening it, revealing a pale-faced woman in a nightgown and a mob-cap, her face creased with worry. Like the man, she was at least middle-aged, with soft brown and silver curls protruding from beneath her hat and soft lines to her face and body. Altogether, she looked like someone’s mother or favorite aunt, though Pandy leaned more toward the mother aspect when she gave a sharp click of her tongue and shook her head reprovingly.

“Jonah Farrier, where have you been?” she demanded, but she was already ushering him into a small room lit by a shaded lamp. There, she pressed him into an old brown chair and helped him remove the soft slippers on his feet. The man – Jonah, apparently – put his feet up on a small ottoman and settled Pandy on his belly. His wife’s eyes landed on the rabbit, and her brows rose, but she didn’t speak, allowing Jonah to tell the story.

Apparently, the woman who had stormed out of the kitchen was a new teacher, hired just a week or so ago, and she was already known to be a stickler for the rules. She’d knocked on the Farriers’ door because Jonah was the school’s head chef, and she could tell the smells were coming from the kitchen. Jonah had dutifully checked it out, and found only this rabbit and a bit of a mess.

Mrs. Farrier – at least Pandy assumed that was who she was – shook her head disapprovingly. “You’re too nice, Jonah. You should have sent her away. It’s not your responsibility to go chasing after roaming children in the middle of the night.”

Her husband sighed, leaning his head back as he gently stroked Pandy’s back. “She’s the sort to go to the chancellor, or get the guards involved. You know this sort of thing happens, and most of the time, the students pick up after themselves, and all is well. If it goes on too long, I figure out who it is and have a wee chat with them.”

Mrs. Farrier sat down in a faded pink chair, a fond but exasperated smile on her face. “Like that one lad…Sebastian? I think you spent more time teaching him than you did at home in the evenings.”

“Ah, he was a good one,” Jonah said. “Never met a boy so happy to learn. Not that he wanted to learn what they wanted to teach him, mind you.” He chuckled. “I had to bribe him with new recipes just to get him to open his books.”

“And because of you, he passed all of his classes,” Mrs. Farrier said. “But what does that have to do with going with that awful woman?”

Jonah shrugged. “And what if another lad like young Bastian was down there, cooking up some mad concoction? I couldn’t leave them to her, or the guards. Even the chancellor would scare a child like that out of their wits, showing up out of the darkness when they thought they were safe.”

“And instead you came back with a rabbit,” Mrs. Farrier said, laughing softly. “Is it dinner, or a new pet?”

Jonah snorted a laugh, laying his hand gently on Pandy’s back as she tensed. “Now, now, Emily, you’ll frighten the poor critter.”

“As if a rabbit could understand me,” Emily said, though her tone softened as she said, “What are you going to do with it?”

“Take it back to its master or mistress, of course,” he said, opening his eyes and leaning forward. “Imagine being a child and waking up in a strange place to find that your pet has gone missing. You know all the children. Which one has a rabbit?”

His wife looked thoughtful. “Only three of the students with pets are here so far. I hear the two girls have a dog and a cat, and they’re also rooming together. There’s a bit of a bet on about how long that will last. As you would know if you’d stop working so much and spend a bit more time with the rest of us.”

Jonah smiled. “You once told me you fell in love with my apple tarts first, but now you want me to stop baking them?”

She giggled like a girl. “Never.” Sobering, she said. “They put all but one of the students with pets in the corner rooms, since they’re slightly larger, and there are no windows for the animals to escape from. Though obviously this one managed it anyway.”

Jonah nodded, then gave another grunt as he rose from the depths of his chair, cradling Pandy against his chest as he did so. “Well, if there are three children with pets, and the girls have a dog and a cat, then I must need to take this little one back to a boy in the corner room. I just hope I’ve given Ms. Wellington enough time to check on all of the students and be sure that they’re in their beds.”

“Hmph,” Emily snorted. “One thing I’ll give her. She is efficient. If she said that’s what she was going to do, no doubt it’s done. But, husband?”

Jonah paused, hand reaching for the handle of the front door. He turned, finding his wife standing behind him with a piece of clothing dangling from her hand. “Put on some pants?”