Lucky Rabbit

Pandy woke to a barrage of angry messages.

What were you thinking?

Why didn’t you call for me sooner?

Wake up.

Wake up!

Wake.

Up!

WakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeupWakeup

Dark letters filled her vision, to the point that she could barely see anything past them. Groggy, she thought, and, to her astonishment, it instantly ceased. Of course, it started up again almost as quickly, but the pause was long enough for her to see that she lay in some undefined, shadowy space, curled into a ball on top of something remarkably soft.

What possessed you to use Minor Heal for that?

Don’t you know what Dark magic is good for?

All you had to do was use Innate Magic to keep the poison from progressing, until-

She sat up, and something pulled against her fur as she did so. Looking around, she realized that she was still in Augustus’ bedroom, but now tucked under his blankets. Neither the chancellor nor the chancellor’s corpse was visible, which she chose to interpret as a good sign.

Pandy asked crossly.

Sigh.

Of course it did.

You were trying to go against your elemental type.

she demanded. This time the pause was longer.

Ah…

Yes.

I guess I forgot to tell you.

I wasn’t having any luck finding Ismara.

And even I can only do so many squat thrusts.

So I’ve been looking into your ‘System’, as you call it.

Trying to figure out why it keeps draining so much of my power.

Uh, ‘glitching’ or causing ‘errors’.

Pandy pressed. Feeling was slowly coming back into her limbs, which all seemed to be there, somewhat to her surprise. She began wriggling her way out of the blankets, assuming that eventually she would reach the edge of the bed.

And…

It has to do with the role you took on.

…

You’re…

Pandy said. One paw went over the side, quickly followed by the rest of her as gravity did what gravity does best. Once she was on the ground, she could see a thin line of light a few feet away, which looked like it might be coming from beneath a door. On wobbly paws, Pandy began making her way in that direction.

How did you figure it out?

It was Pandy’s turn to sigh, but she did it without sending a pointed message about it. Hopefully. She wasn’t entirely sure what was transmitted and what wasn’t when she was talking to Keros.

I don’t know.

…

I’m sorry.

It looks like this really is my fault.

I looked at the…

Error log?

You could have become any one of several characters.

Clara.

Any of the ‘love interests’.

A villainess.

Even the villain.

But when I tried to help, I pushed you past all of those possibilities.

So you became the single most powerful being in the game.

At the only point where she was vulnerable to change.

Pandy paused, nose almost touching the door. Again, the suspiciously long pause.

That’s…not all of it.

I think Ascyra knows what happened.

At least, she knows she was supposed to be somewhere else.

That things are meant to be different.

Pandy’s fur lifted along her spine as a chill ran down her back.

Not exactly?

I have no idea how much she understands.

But I think she’s actively trying to put things back.

By now, Pandy had to look like a snow hare who’d just licked a lightning rod. Even her ears felt electrified, sticking straight up as she stared at the scrolling letters.

Maybe.

She’s…powerful.

…

But right now.

The important thing is that you could have used Innate Magic to halt the poison.

Rather than trying to heal the effects.

And now that Keros mentioned it, Pandy remembered reading the old Dark magic primer, where it mentioned that Dark mages could halt the progression of diseases and destroy bacteria. It made sense that they might also be able to slow or stop poison. Didn’t it? But Minor Heal was her number one spell, while Innate Magic hadn’t done anything except for a single time, when it took all of her Mana and still didn’t produce the results she wanted. No, Pandy didn’t blame herself for using something she knew worked, and not a spell that was more likely to kill Augustus than help him, at least as far as she knew.

Closing her eyes, Pandy puffed out a breath. She stared up in the direction of the unseen doorknob.

SPELL UNAVAILABLE. PLEASE TRY AGAIN LATER.

Pandy stared at the heavy black letters, which felt so impersonal somehow, even though they were in the same font as Keros’ words. They were still hanging there when more letters scrolled up and started to push them out of the way.

Ah, and then there’s that.

Sorry.

I had to…reboot you?

Your System, anyway.

And there went her fur again, a rippling dandelion puff of existential horror.

Not dead dead.

Just a little more dead than usual.

It’ll be fine in a while.

I think.

He thought? What kind of god didn’t know whether or not his magic would come back online? But Pandy didn’t ask. No, this was just another day in her unlife. But…

Not just a rabbit.

Some things may still work.

Pandy thought, almost frantic, and rocketed straight upwards, but not nearly as far as she should have. As she began to drop, she reached out with her paws, desperately trying to catch hold of something before she landed with a painful thump.

Hop successful. ??? uses remain until level ??

-2 LF

No. No, she didn’t like this at all. It felt too much like one of those annoying gimmicks in games, where a character lost all of their powers just to add tension or allow them room for ‘character growth’. Pandy didn’t want character growth, she wanted to be able to transform into a human being and talk to other human beings and protect Thaniel, and…

And as often as she’d thought that she wouldn’t mind just being a rabbit, it was too late for that. She’d made friends. She had clothes. She’d gotten a job! And losing her job because her System crashed was…actually not the worst reason she’d ever lost a job, but it was up there. At least this time there were no mimes involved.

she asked, feeling her ears droop.

Not long.

I hope.

Pandy thought hopefully.

STATUS UNAVAILABLE. PLEASE TRY AGAIN LATER.

Pandy wanted to roll around in a fit of frustration. She wanted to scream her terrible bunny scream, and let Keros and whoever else could hear her suffer. But more than that, she wanted to know what had happened with Augustus, and the only way to find out was to get through that door. She’d managed to turn handles and doorknobs alike using only Hop and her own stubborn determination, and that would work again. Backing up, she squinted, trying to see a slightly-darker blotch where the knob might be. Her demonic bunny vision seemed to be offline, too, but maybe…

The door opened, smacking her in the nose. She squealed, rolling tail over ears backwards until she bumped into the leg of the bed. Lights came on, and footsteps hurried closer before warm hands scooped her up.

“Are you well, Pandy?” Professor Beeswick asked her, and Pandy looked up, sniffling back something that might have been tears but probably wasn’t, because bunnies didn’t get to cry. Which meant it was probably blood from being bopped in the nose with a door, and Pandy was sotired of being hurt.

The dragon frowned down at her, something like concern on his vaguely inhuman face. “No, I think not,” he said softly. “Come.”

Without waiting for a response – which Pandy wasn’t certain she could have offered anyway – he picked her up, turned, and carried her out into the main room of Augustus’ apartment. It was as empty as Pandy remembered, but the dragon didn’t stop there. Instead, he opened the next door and stepped out into the office, where a man sat at the desk, shoulders hunched, his cheek resting on his fist as he stared down at a single sheet of paper on his desk.

Augustus.

He looked tired. Exhausted, actually, with deep circles beneath bloodshot eyes. His dark hair was entirely out of control, and for the first time she could tell that there was a hint of red in the deep brown color. His glasses hung limply from the hand that wasn’t propping up his head, but when Beeswick came in carrying Pandy, the chancellor stood so abruptly that his chair teetered on two legs before falling back to four, and he shoved his glasses back on.

“Pandora?” he asked, taking a step forward. “Are you…?”

“Intact, so far as I can tell,” Professor Beeswick said, thrusting Pandy into the chancellor’s unresisting hands. “I suspect you two have a great deal to discuss, so I’ll leave you to it.”

He crossed the room and opened a remarkably undamaged door before pausing again. Turning, he held up something that Pandy took a second to identify as a gold coin. “Augustus said it was all right to borrow one of these,” he said, but there was a hint of a question in his tone. Pandy nodded, and a sharp smile flashed across his lips. A flick of his fingers made the coin disappear as he said, “I thank you.”

The door had barely clicked closed behind him when Augustus held Pandy out and shook her, albeit very gently. “What were you thinking?” he demanded. “Whatever it was you did…” He was very pale behind his glasses. “When I woke up, you were in pieces, all over the bed, and the floor. I thought-”

His mouth pinched tightly, and he closed his eyes, drawing in a slow breath through his nose. “And then you just started…pulling yourself together. It was-” Now he was more than a little green, and Pandy winced at the picture his words painted. “So I just pushed all the parts together, and left you to it. And when I came back, you were whole. I cleaned you up, but you still wouldn’t wake. It’s been hours.”

Hours? Pandy glanced around, almost instinctively looking for a clock. There were so few here, but she’d spent the first twenty-four years of her lives surrounded by devices that told her exactly how much of her time she had wasted, and it was still hard to break the habit.

Seeing her confusion, Augustus said, “It’s a little after midnight. You left me with a bit of difficulty, explaining two broken doors. Fortunately, you closed the door to my rooms, so no one could enter and find…you.”

He grimaced, but Pandy was casting her mind back. She’d closed the door? Really? Concealing what she was doing had been so far from her mind at the time that she was certain she hadn’t done it intentionally. But kick the door shut behind her out of sheer habit? Maybe.

“I had to tell them that the young man who brought your clothes had broken in because you refused to pay him the full amount you owed. The wards recognized him as someone who had been allowed entry, which is another failure in security that I’m certain I’ll be hearing about. I’m supposedly reporting the break-in to the guards, so I’m afraid it’s best if he doesn’t come back here, at least for the rest of this year. With you missing, there was some concern that he’d abducted or hurt you, but,” a flicker of amusement chased some of the exhaustion from his eyes, “not much. Ms. Wellington isn’t exactly popular.”

Pandy nodded. She’d definitely noticed that. And since she was trying to pass as Ms. Wellington, it would be counterproductive to attempt to repair the woman’s reputation, even if she could. And for once it was probably a good thing, because this way no one really cared what happened to her. Except Thaniel. Pandy’s head popped up, and she jerked in Augustus’ grip, trying to wriggle free. She needed to get to Thaniel! He would be worried sick.

The chancellor sat her down on his desk, next to the paper he’d been staring at, but kept a gentle hand on her back. “I told Thaniel you were fine. I said you were helping me with something, and would be back as soon as possible. He wasn’t happy, but he didn’t argue. I asked Isidor to make sure the lad stays in his room tonight, but I doubt he’ll go searching just yet.”

No, probably not. Not tonight, anyway. If she wasn’t back in the morning, though, all bets were off, and Thaniel was far sneakier than Augustus probably gave him credit for. Those big blue eyes and angel-curls made it all too easy to miss the sharp mind and stubborn determination absolutely overflowing from that small body.

“I wasn’t even lying,” Augustus went on, frustration clear in his voice and on his face. He slapped a hand down next to the page, making Pandy jump. “This is what was in that box Ms. Wellington’s ‘friends’ sent to her. And I have no idea what it means. I’m hoping you might.”

Pandy moved around until the page was right side up, not that that helped. She had to blink a few times before her eyes would focus on the symbols neatly lined up across the sheet. They weren’t letters, but they were familiar. But why?

Her head whipped around, and Pandy launched herself from the desk. She skidded on the wooden floor when she landed, spinning like a furry dust mop until she came to a halt against the door. Behind her, the chair scraped as Augustus stood up and followed her.

“Where are you going?” he asked, but opened the door when she scratched at it. Pandy hopped down the hall, which was only faintly lit at this hour. The doors were dark and a little hazy, but she was almost certain she was at the right one when she stopped. She was just debating Hopping up to see if she could read the nameplate when Augustus came up behind her. He was puffing slightly after even that short distance, which was vaguely worrisome, but she couldn’t ask if he was all right, so instead she laid a paw on the door and looked up at him questioningly.

“You need to go back into your office?” he asked, voice pitched too low to travel. She nodded vigorously, ears flopping, and he opened the door, allowing them both to slip inside.

This room, too, was dark, and Pandy thought, before she remembered that it probably wouldn’t work, and indeed it didn’t.

Fortunately, Augustus didn’t need it, murmuring, “Lux,” so the lights brightened.

With a small twinge of something that could have been jealousy, but hopefully wasn’t, Pandy hopped over to the desk and stood on her back paws, tugging at the handle of the bottom drawer. It slid out just a bit, and the chancellor pulled it the rest of the way open. Pandy hauled herself up and over, tumbling into the drawer, where she landed on top of the manila folder.

Frowning, Augustus peered into the drawer, then reached in and pulled Pandy out, leaving the folder behind. He looked again, eyes tracing over the small space, obviously missing the pale cream cardstock that took up the whole bottom of the drawer.

Pandy wiggled, dropping down to the floor, then climbed into the drawer again. Carefully, she pinched it between her teeth, dragging it upward until it nearly touched Augustus’ fingers. He blinked, squinted, shook his head, then finally took hold of the folder, lifting it from the drawer, with Pandy dangling from the other side by her teeth.

Setting both folder and bunny on the desk, Augustus shook his head again. He started to open it, then stopped and gave her a wry smile. “Never let it be said I can’t learn my lessons.” Reaching into his magic pocket, he removed what looked like a perfectly normal cloth glove and slid it onto his hand. He used this to lift the cover, flinching back slightly as the six sheets of white paper within came into view. Cautiously, he flipped through them, touching them only with his gloved fingers, staring at the symbols that filled the pages.

“They were right here,” he muttered. “Even Beeswick missed them.” Raising his head, he snapped the fingers of the ungloved hand. The miniature dust devil that was the first elemental she’d ever seen him summon appeared. “Call Beeswick,” he told it. The little funnel cloud swayed uncertainly, and he sighed. “I know, but he won’t be angry this time, I promise.”

There was something distinctly unhappy about the way the twisting column of air slumped forward, but it faded obediently, presumably off to fetch the librarian. Augustus looked at Pandy. “Do you know what these symbols are? Can you read it?”

This time when Pandy shook her head, the room swam, and she swayed on her paws. Augustus clicked his tongue, and she looked up at him, but he didn’t seem to be mad at her. Rather than getting upset at her uselessness, he picked her up and carried her toward the door. As he reached it, the doorknob turned, and Professor Beeswick stood there, long hair loose around his shoulders.

“What happened?” he demanded, and a miniature whirlwind peeked around his shoulder, bobbing anxiously.

Almost absently, Augustus removed a sugar cube from his pocket and gave it to the elemental, which vanished far more quickly than it had arrived. “Pandora found some more papers,” he told the dragon quietly. “We may be able to use them to break the code. But she needs to rest, and,” he grimaced, “as much as I hate to admit it, so do I.”

Professor Beeswick snorted. “So you summoned me so I could work while you rest?”

“You don’t need sleep the same way humans do,” Augustus said, and the librarian sighed, brushing past him into the office.

His eyes caught on the folder immediately, and he circled the desk, looking down at the still-open drawer. Reaching down with a clawed finger, he stabbed something, then lifted it from the drawer. It was a tiny piece of something that looked for all the world like confetti. “Aetherbane,” he said grimly.

A grinding noise made Pandy look up, to see that Augustus’s jaw was clenched tight. “Be careful,” he said, and the dragon nodded, then sat down, using the very tips of his claws to shift the pages around.

The chancellor stepped out into the hall, and his steps weren’t much steadier than Pandy felt as he carried her downstairs, into the students’ wing, and up to Thaniel’s room. There, he quietly opened the door, tiptoed to Thaniel’s bed, and placed Pandy down beside the boy. Thaniel lay on his side, curled up around the plush rabbit Pandy had bought for him. When Pandy wiggled in between him and the toy, it felt faintly damp against the sensitive skin of her ears.

Augustus gave her a gentle pat, then turned to go, but Isidor sat up in the other bed, the whites of his eyes startlingly bright against the shadows. He looked from the chancellor to Pandy, and Augustus nodded. Isidor nodded back, then pushed something beneath his pillow – something that glinted with the bright gleam of metal. A flurry of electric sparks announced that Tempest was there, too, resting next to Isidor, rather than inside her box.

The chancellor looked around the room, seemingly satisfied, then left without a sound. Pandy stared at Isidor, who stared back, until he finally nodded to her as well, before rolling over to face the wall. Pandy wiggled deeper into Thaniel’s embrace, drawing in the smell that was so distinctly him, and slipped into something that might have been sleep, if sleep was possible for her.