Lucky Rabbit

Pandy sat bolt upright in the chair, then came to her feet, already stammering out something that might have been a greeting, or an apology, or possibly an order for takeout. None of the three newcomers responded, though Professor Beeswick crossed to the desk and picked up the copy of The Courteous Mage’s Guide to Elemental Balance lying there. Tucking it under his arm, he nodded with surprising affability and returned to stand beside the chancellor.

Mr. Blackwood, for his part, pulled out a child-sized chair and sat down at one of the child-sized tables. His hair was mussed, as if he’d already run his hands through it several times, and now he removed his glasses, rubbing the small red marks on the bridge of his nose.

“What,” he asked, “am I meant to do with you, Ms-”

He paused, Eventually Pandy took the hint and hesitantly said, “Wellington?”

“No.” Rather to her surprise, it was the dragon who answered. “Ms. Wellington has been missing for several days. We’re not certain what happened to her, but there is a strong possibility that she’s dead.”

Pandy flinched, looking toward Isidor. He didn’t meet her eyes, instead gazing steadfastly out of the window. The turtle in his pocket, however, looked unexpectedly sympathetic – at least, as much as a turtle could look sympathetic.

“She…probably is,” Pandy admitted. It wasn’t even difficult. Something inside of her very much wanted to talk to someone, and as much as she cared for Thaniel, it couldn’t be him. For one thing, he was only six, and how do you tell a six-year-old that the world wants him dead?

The chancellor’s lips twitched. “And you are?” he prompted again.

This time, Pandy didn’t even try. “Pandy. Pandora Boxx. Because I was found in a box, you see, but there was a note saying my name was Pandora, so the monks didn’t have to make one up, which was good, because you can see from ‘Boxx’ that they probably would have named me something like Beige, or possibly Taupe.”

Now all three of them were looking at her, and none of them seemed to know how to respond, but that was all right, because Pandy had been waiting for this for months. Hopefully, she wouldn’t end up dead or imprisoned after she finished, but at least someone would know that Thaniel needed protection, so it was fine, wasn’t it?

“I used to live on another world,” Pandy told them. “I wasn’t very good at it – living, that is – but I did try. And then I died, and this god,” she waved her hands, marking out a tall, rectangular sort of shape, “said I could be reborn, and so I was. But the god messed up, or maybe something interfered when he tried to send me here, and I went to the wrong time, as well as the wrong body.”

She glanced at Isidor, who was now staring at her, looking as surprised as she had ever seen him. This clearly wasn’t the way he’d expected this little conversation to go. “Do you, um, know, about,” Pandy stuck her fingers behind her head and wiggled her nose, and the chancellor let out a very ungentlemanly snort before burying his face in his hands. The professor smiled, ever so slightly, and he nodded.

“Oh, good,” Pandy said. “So, Thaniel’s father was trying to do something, but, um, I’m sure whatever it was wasn’t too bad. I mean, I don’t think he was actually killing people, or anything. He just, maybe, kind of borrowed their bodies after they were already dead, which, really, is just science, isn’t it? Though I have to admit that the groundskeeper, George, gave me the creeps. He was so quiet, and you know what they say about the quiet ones.”

She paused, trying to see if they did, in fact, know what was said about the quiet ones, but it was difficult to tell with the way they were twitching, so she just went on. “And I got stuck in the body of this rabbit, rather than going into a human. Not that I would have wanted to take over anyone’s body,” she hastened to add, just in case they thought she’d approved of the idea. “I assumed that being reincarnated meant I’d be born again. You know, start from scratch kind of thing. But Keros – that’s the god – thought it would be better if I had a chance to-”

The chancellor had managed to compose himself by now, however, and he lifted a hand, glancing at Isidor. “So, you’re not an elemental. Or a demon?”

Pandy bit her lip. She really hadn’t wanted to lie. But Thaniel had seemed so convinced, and she just couldn’t tell him his father probably really was a necromancer, or a demon-summoner. What were they called? Demo-mancers, maybe?

Her shoulders slumped, and she drew in a deep, entirely unnecessary breath. “No,” she said. “Not an elemental, and I don’t think I’m a demon, either. Unless to you, demons are just spirits pulled from another plane? I mean, none of the lore I read really defined them, because everyone already knows what demons are, don’t they?”

The three exchanged glances, and Professor Beeswick said, “No, a demon is not a spirit.” He didn’t say what it was, and a glance at Isidor and Mr. Blackwood said that if they knew, they weren’t telling, either.

“Oh, good,” Pandy said, offering them a relieved smile, which was neither accepted nor rejected outright. “I didn’t think I was, because Lian tried to Purify me a bunch of times, and it just kind of tickled. So, in any case, Keros tried to send me to a world that was like, um, a story I read. I guess. But instead of sending me to the beginning of the story, I ended up arriving three years too early, and the first thing I did was- No, well, not the first thing, because at first I was just Thaniel’s pet, and I didn’t really do anything, because it was kind of nice just being able to-”

“This story,” Isidor said, leaning forward to brace his hands on a table, “you told Thaniel and…the others, that you came from the future. But you didn’t. You just read about it, didn’t you? So how can you be sure any of it will happen? The…the demon army, and everything.”

He hadn’t said much when Pandy told the story to the children, but Isidor sounded deeply skeptical now. Neither the dragon nor the chancellor looked surprised by the mention of an invading horde, so obviously Isidor had spilled the demonic beans. Which really wasn’t a surprise, though Pandy hadn’t known exactly who he would tell.

Pandy tugged at a strand of Ms. Wellington’s hair that had come loose from the vague approximation of an up-do Pandy had pinned it into. “Well, you see, Keros also didn’t remember to set limits on his magic the way he should have. So it’s constantly trying to force this world to conform to my story, even though I don’t want it to! I think it would be lovely if things just went on as they are, and the children all grew up happy and healthy, and there were no wars, and-”

She had definitely thrown the god under the proverbial bus – or maybe a truck – at this point, but it really was his fault. “Anyway, anything I change, the magic tries to put back, starting with,” she bit her lip, then forged ahead, “Thaniel. He was supposed to die. In the fire. When Captain Reedsley came to investigate The Father for, um, using illegal magic. But I sort of…saved him. Thaniel. It was an accident!”

She saw the looks on their faces and waved her hands quickly. “No, I mean, I meant to save him! I didn’t actually expect to succeed, but I tried on purpose! But I didn’t realize yet that I was in the…the book. Or not in it, but in a world really, really similar to it, and so I didn’t realize that saving Thaniel would change everything else.”

Professor Beeswick’s eyes narrowed. “And how could saving a child alter history that much?”

Oh, no. She still didn’t want to tell them about Killian. Lian wasn’t ‘Killian the Villian’, and if Pandy had anything to say about it, he never would be. But if she mentioned him, someone might well decide that the best way to prevent ‘Killian’ from appearing was to do something about the boy he was right now.

“I don’t know?” It sounded weak even to her, so Pandy hurried on. “In the, um, book, Thaniel’s dad didn’t die, and the villain…I mean, the demon summoner, was really upset that Thaniel was killed.” There, that made it sound like The Father was the most likely culprit. Pandy offered mental apologies to the deceased, but this was an attempt to protect Lord Conroy’s son, or sons, so she hoped he wouldn’t mind too much.

Isidor and the chancellor exchanged glances, and there was no missing the somewhat confused relief on their faces. “So, there won’t be a demon army in three, or perhaps four, years?” Mr. Blackwood asked.

She shook her head. “No, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. Keros – the god’s – magic is still trying to kill Thaniel and force the story back onto its original timeline. Including all the,” her eyes went to Professor Beeswick, who was almost definitely killed in Gacha Love, even though he was never explicitly named, “other people who died. And the, uh, demon-summony bits.”

“Died, not kidnapped?” the dragon asked, his focus narrowing until Pandy squirmed beneath it.

Glancing at Isidor, Pandy mumbled, “I told the kids people were just kidnapped because I didn’t want to scare them. Actually,” she swallowed hard, “a lot of people died. Like, a lot.”

Professor Beeswick made a soft sound of understanding, then looked back out of the window. The tiny scales on his cheek and jaw caught the light, and Pandy stared, fascinated. Was all of his skin just as scaly? What did it feel like? She didn’t even realize she’d shifted toward him and begun raising her hand until the chancellor cleared his throat.

“And what would happen,” he asked, leaning back in the small chair he occupied so thoroughly, “if you weren’t here any longer? Would the magic end?”

Pandy pulled back, wrapping her arms around herself. This wasn’t her body – even her rabbit body – and the proportions were still unfamiliar, but it was comforting to feel the pressure of her own hands gripping her upper arms.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’ve wondered that, too. But I don’t want to…. I like it here.” She looked from one to the other of them. Isidor actually looked sympathetic, and there was something sad about the chancellor’s gray eyes, but she couldn’t read the dragon at all.

“As long as Thaniel’s safe, I don’t think things will go back to the way they were,” she told them. “I’ve been trying to protect him. There was a horse. And a gargoyle. And probably Ms. Wellington, but she may just have wanted to sell him to someone.”

“And what did happen with Ms. Wellington?” the chancellor asked.

Oof. Yeah. What had happened with Ms. Wellington? Should she tell them that Thaniel was a Dark mage? But Isidor had definitely already figured it out, so what did she have to lose? It wasn’t like they wouldn’t find out eventually.

“Thaniel did something that made her think he might be a Dark mage,” Pandy said, watching them carefully. The dragon librarian still didn’t react, Isidor just nodded, and Mr. Blackwood’s eyes widened ever so slightly, but not with surprise. Maybe he just hadn’t expected her to admit it?

“Ms. Wellington distracted Abbington and Geraldine, leaving them behind on the trail. Then she told Eleanor it was safe to eat the drowseberries. I think Isidor was supposed to eat some, too, and she was going to claim she was teaching them a lesson about not eating mystery fruit or something. But instead, Isidor figured out what the berries were – after Eleanor had already eaten some.”

Isidor winced.

“So, Ms. Wellington sent a Fire elemental after Isidor and tried to take Thaniel. When that didn’t work,” Pandy left out her own role in Ms. Wellington’s failure, “she took off, and I followed her. But she was talking to herself in two different voices.”

Lowering her voice, Pandy said, “Get boy!”

Then, switching to a falsetto, she said, “This is your fault. I told you we should have waited.”

Back to the deeper tone. “Need now!”

Falsetto. “Then get him yourself!”

Everyone was staring at her again, and Pandy cleared her throat, returning to her normal voice. Or at least Ms. Wellington’s normal voice. Which is the one she probably should have used for Ms. Wellington, but too late now.

“Ms. Wellington was from the Shadow Exchange, and someone had hired her to mess with Eleanor. Somehow.” Pandy had some suspicions about how, but that was all they were, suspicions, so she wasn’t going to mention them. Besides, even Professor Beeswick had reacted now, looking surprised, while the chancellor seemed horrified, and Isidor just looked ill.

“I think the original plan was supposed to take a lot longer, though,” Pandy said. “All year, or at least the first term. But when Ms. Wellington told her employers that Thaniel was a Dark mage, they threw it all away to get to him.

“Anyway,” she started talking faster, knowing her time was running out, “she tripped over a Tarroot. I tried to get her out,” Pandy added, remembering how Ms. Wellington had screamed as she was pulled under, still burning.

“That was when I learned the spell to,” she swept a hand down over her borrowed shape, “because I needed hands, you know? But I wasn’t strong enough.” By the time she finished, she was barely whispering, and she could feel her hands shaking.

Again, Professor Beeswick caught her in his silvery gaze, his eyes seeming to grow until they filled her vision. “So you did not possess Ms. Wellington’s body?”

Pandy shuddered, shrinking back. “No! She’s dead. At least, I think she must be dead. I just look like this. It’s a spell!”

“And do you have any proof of what you say? Proof that Ms. Wellington was from the Shadow Exchange? Proof that you are not a demon, riding her body?” Mr. Blackwood asked.

“No, I… Wait!” Pandy held out her hand, and the stretchy black suit appeared in it. She put it on the desk and slid it toward the chancellor. The knife followed it, but as Isidor reached for it, she pulled it back, almost cutting herself in her urgency. “Don’t touch it! It’s poisoned.”

Isidor looked back at Mr. Blackwood, who nodded to him. Carefully, the boy turned the weapon, touching only the hilt. As he did, a greasy film seemed to gleam on the edge of the black blade. Professor Beeswick reached out and picked up the bodysuit, brows lifting as the skintight suit unfolded. It definitely wasn’t like anything else Pandy had seen the people of this world wearing.

“Those were in Ms. Wellington’s room. And these.” Reluctantly, Pandy added the bag of coins, tipping it out so they could see the different shapes. The chancellor sorted through them, putting the round coins back in the bag and stacking the square ones neatly. He hummed thoughtfully before glancing at the dragon, then back at Pandy.

“Do you mind if I take these?” he asked, pointing at the tidy stack, and Pandy shrugged.

“They’re not really mine,” she told him, though her gaze lingered on the still-bulging pouch.

“In theory, they should belong to Ms. Wellington,” the chancellor agreed, “but if she truly was part of the Shadow Exchange – and I am inclined to believe she was – no one will ever come forward to claim her. Which means this money is yours as much as anyone’s.” He looked a bit bemused. “Not that I’m sure where you’re keeping them.”

Oops. She had used her inventory right in front of them, hadn’t she? Pandy really, really wasn’t good at keeping secrets. She’d always had a tendency to blurt things out when she got nervous, and since she found herself in nerve-wracking situations multiple times each day, she had long ago come to the conclusion that it was better not to even try.

Pandy picked up the pouch and made it disappear, giving them a sick smile as she did so. “Magic?”

Mr. Blackwood snorted a small laugh. “Magic, indeed. Beeswick?” He looked back at the librarian, who shrugged.

“I see no sufficient reason to refuse,” the dragon said, with the sort of smile that would make any intelligent person profoundly uneasy.

The chancellor glanced at Isidor, but didn’t ask his opinion of whatever-it-was, which finally cemented their relationship in Pandy’s mind. Mr. Blackwood was definitely in charge, though she thought Professor Beeswick was either an equal, or perhaps something more like a consultant, someone outside of the normal chain of command.

Sighing, Mr. Blackwood turned back to Pandy. He gave an oddly resonant whistle, and the papers on the desk lifted and blew off, before a tiny, humanoid shape appeared. It wore no clothes, and while it wasn’t transparent, Pandy could see through it in a way that didn’t actually make any sense to her eyes. She probably should have been frightened, but the tilt of its small head was so curious, and not aggressive at all, that she simply couldn’t find it in herself to be scared.

“This is Zephra,” the chancellor said. “It has been following you since I spoke to Isidor on Friday.” His brows lifted, and he seemed to expect a reply, but Pandy was too busy thinking about everything she’d done in the last few days. Almost all of it unnecessary, and much of it naked. Could he watch through this little elemental’s eyes, or did it just communicate what it had seen to him? Either way, the prospect bypassed awkward and went directly to deeply embarrassing.

“Oh,” was all she managed to squeak out. Pandy was used to embarrassment, but not even the incident with the inflatable pink porpoise and the marching band could compare to this. Still he waited, and finally she pointed to the knife, the coins, and the stretchy skinsuit. Had he known about them before she actually produced them? He nodded, and somehow she managed to blush even more.

“We – I – am inclined to allow you to continue filling Ms. Wellington’s shoes,” he went on. “I believe you truly have the children’s best interests at heart, though your way of showing it is…unorthodox.”

His eyes narrowed. “I would very much like to know who hired the former Ms. Wellington, since it certainly wasn’t the person I believed it to be. Or rather, not only that person. With you here, someone may eventually reach out to you, at which point we may be able to get some real information. Though,” he covered his mouth with one hand, though there was no hiding the amusement in his eyes, “you may need to try a bit harder to convince them that you’re actually that Ms. Wellington.”

“And you can’t be alone with the…with Ellie,” Isidor put in, thrusting out his chin stubbornly. “You may be our best chance to find the person behind all of this, but protecting her is my responsibility.”

“Our responsibility,” the chancellor corrected, all amusement gone. “As is protecting Thaniel and all of the other students of this school.” His eyes caught Pandy’s, and for the first time she felt a real sense of threat behind that gaze. “If you ever have any reason to believe one of my students is in danger, just say Zephra’s name, and she will bring me to you. Do you understand?”

Pandy nodded with great enthusiasm, but before she could speak, a System message interrupted.

Shifting Faces expired.

The world grew around her, and Pandy scrambled to hang onto the edge of the desk she’d been standing behind. Her clothing slipped off as her feet kicked wildly, and she pulled herself up to collapse onto the desk. Looking up, she saw three sets of eyes and one ethereal but featureless face turned toward her. Professor Beeswick stepped toward her, and for the first time, he really looked interested.

“And tomorrow,” he said, “I shall speak to you further.”