Lucky Rabbit

The week before the Fall Festival was a long one. After all the excitement on Monday, the rest of the time seemed to drag. Pandy couldn’t even distract herself by paying attention to Thaniel’s classes, because all of them except Governance and Leadership were just the same thing over and over again: preparing for the school’s Open House on the first day of the festival. By Thursday, all of the children were able to perform their part in the activity with something akin to competence, so they were almost as bored as Pandy.

That left Small Group as the highlight of the schoolday, which was saying something, because while Ms. Davenport was a perfectly capable teacher, she was the furthest thing from fun. In fact, she assigned the children their first actual homework, having them read a small book simply called, Why Spells Fail. They each had to give an oral report on one thing they learned from the book, and the whole process was terribly painful, mainly because Thaniel complained for days before giving in and reading the book, which took him less than half an hour to complete.

Still, as much as Thaniel complained, it was Abbington who seemed truly miserable as he stood in front of the group and spoke as slowly and carefully as Pandy had ever heard him. “I learnedth... that there’s n’point in learnin’ spells, ‘cause... because you can use’n... use an elemental t’do everything better.”

Upon finishing this brief oration, he subsided, staring at the toes of the shoes Pandy had given him. They were still polished to a high gleam, as well cared-for as if he’d only received them that day. Pandy was sitting by Thaniel’s feet, so she could see the unhappy expression in the bright blue eyes behind his thick glasses.

“And?” Ms. Davenport prompted, though she was nodding agreement. “You’re supposed to give one way in which you’re going to put this new knowledge to use.”

Abbington bit his lip. “Guess I’ll... ask Brook t’fill th’ pig-water?”

Ms. Davenport’s lips pressed together, but she just nodded and allowed the boy to sit down. Before his behind could quite settle onto the stone bench, however, she added, “Do enunciate more clearly next time, Abbington. You’ve shown great improvement this week, but by midwinter, I shouldn’t even be able to tell the difference between your speech and that of the other students.”

The Valley boy’s shoulders hunched forward, and he gave a jerk of his head that the teacher apparently chose to take as agreement, because she turned to Thaniel. “Nathaniel, it’s your turn.” Thaniel looked only slightly rebellious as he stood. He went almost exclusively by his nickname, but at the same time, he didn’t particularly like the girls’ hall supervisor, so it didn’t bother him as much when she called him by his full name.

As if attempting to make up for Abbington’s slow, careful speech, Thaniel said, “Ilearnedthatelementalsaffectyourinnatemagic.”

Ms. Davenport’s brows went up. “And this was new information to you?”

Thaniel shrugged, and the teacher sighed. “Nathaniel, I am trying to undo some of the damage Ms. Wellington did, no doubt unwittingly.” She didn’t look at all like she believed this last bit, but she was at least making some effort not to undermine the childrens’ belief in educational authority. “Well, do tell us how you intend to use this new information in your everyday life. And speak slowly, if you would.”

Pandy saw the moment when Thaniel considered taking ‘speak slowly’ to some previously unplumbed depth, then decided it simply wasn’t worth the effort. So, rather than taking several minutes to slowly draw out his statement, he said, “Can’t. I don’t think I’ll ever have elementals.”

He locked his lips over the next words, but Pandy had heard them often enough, since he’d gone over this brief statement several times, trying to figure out exactly what he could get away with. What he didn’t add was, “So I guess I’ll have to learn all the spells I can, just in case I’m ever allowed to use magic at all.”

They’d recently discovered that Thaniel had a ‘heartstone’ – a small, black stone his father, a Dark elementalist, had somehow used to replace his damaged heart. Unfortunately, something about that heartstone altered Thaniel’s inborn or ‘innate’ magic so that everything he tried was also Dark, even though innate magic was supposed to be only lightly tinged with the person’s natural elemental inclination. That meant he couldn’t safely use even the most basic of spells, which common mages – people who had magic, but hadn’t formed a contract with an elemental – used all the time.

The tall, prim teacher’s thin lips compressed even more tightly this time, but she couldn’t actually refute his words. As far as Pandy knew, Ms. Davenport was only aware that Thaniel had sustained some magical injury, and the school healer, Mistress Rose, had decided he was not to use any magic for the foreseeable future. Since the hall supervisor had once been considered for the position of school chancellor, it had to be galling not to have all the information, but she just nodded.

“I see. Well, we shall continue to assume that you will indeed have an elemental of your own someday, shall we? Since there will be no school next week, that will give you nine whole days to think of another way to use your new knowledge regarding spellwork. If you cannot think of one, perhaps a few days of spending your chore time with me will encourage you to think of one,” she said, standing as the bell rang to let them know the class period was over.

All of the students stood as well, offering their teacher bows or curtsies, though Abbington didn’t look up, and Thaniel’s hands were fisted at his sides. It was finally Friday, though, so as Ms. Davenport hurried away through the deepening shadows, all of the children relaxed. Evening was coming earlier these days, and the air was just beginning to take on the crisp feel of Fall, bringing along cooler nights like a familiar playmate.

“Imiss MsWellin’ton,” Abbington said quietly, and all of the children nodded, which both warmed Pandy’s undead insides and made her feel incredibly guilty. Not that it was exactly her fault that the Shadow Exchange – the organization the real Ms. Wellington had worked for – had figured out that Pandy wasn’t actually their operative, in spite of looking exactly like her. Still, Pandy could have tried harder to be mean, rude, and pompous, even if none of those things came naturally to her.

It was time for the children to go get ready for dinner, but none of them headed for the school building. In fact, Thaniel plopped down on the grass and laid back, staring up at the patches of sky visible between the swaying branches. It actually hadn’t rained for three whole days, and the ground was finally drying out after a week and a half of off-and-on precipitation that ranged from drizzle to ‘someone turn the spigot off, we’re done now’.

“I don’t wanna go help with the decorations,” he announced, as if this was news to anyone. All of the children had been spending their chore time in their homerooms this week, helping put together their displays for Open House. For some reason not even the children seemed to be aware of, the class had decided to do a number of potato-based projects, ranging from potato art – both made with potatoes and of potatoes – to something like a magical potato battery.

To his credit, Mr. Rowe had encouraged the children to run with it, and run they had. Unfortunately, after a full week of potato-centric classes and chores, the children were thoroughly tired of root vegetables, and Thaniel wasn’t the only one who had spurned his spud at supper the night before.

Abbington gave a grunt of agreement, though he didn’t sit down beside the other boy. Thaniel still didn’t seem to have figured out the causative link between grass and stains on his uniform, but Abbington certainly had, and since he took excellent care of his clothes – probably because his family couldn’t afford to replace them – he generally avoided sitting on the ground without some form of defense between derriere and dirt.

Geraldine sighed, settling back onto the bench she’d vacated when Ms. Davenport left. “It’s not like any of our families will be there to see our projects, anyway,” she muttered, her usual cheer entirely absent from face and voice. Before Pandy was relegated back to the role of regular rabbit, she’d learned that Geraldine’s family were going to come to Knightmere for the festival, but apparently they hadn’t seen fit to inform their youngest daughter. Pandy was assuming they wanted to surprise the girl, but what surprise was worth the misery on Geraldine’s face?

The only good thing to come of the last week was Isidor slowly relaxing his constant vigilance. Mr. Benjamin, the – now former – music and dance teacher had been exposed as a mole for the Shadow Exchange, an appropriately shadowy organization that had already tried to kidnap both Eleanor and Thaniel. To Pandy’s surprise, it was Isidor who thought to inform her that Mr. Benjamin was insisting he was the only spy. Whether Isidor and his allies believed him, or if Isidor had simply decided that Pandy herself wasn’t a villain, thanks to the fact that Mr. Benjamin had made a credible attempt at murdering her, the boy had become noticeably more friendly lately.

“Well, we’ll all be stuck here together,” Isidor said with a shrug, trying to look like he didn’t actually care that no one from his family would be there, either. Honestly, Pandy didn’t even know if he had any family, since she was fairly certain his parents were both dead.

Eleanor gave a soft, resigned sigh. “I sent my brother a letter, asking if he could come, but he’ll be at the Kestrel Open House all day. He said I could go see him after my events are over, but you have to have an adult willing to be responsible for you in order to leave campus, and there isn’t anyone I can ask.”

Thaniel groaned, covering his face with his arms. “We really are gonna be stuck here all alone all week.”

“What about your brother?” Geraldine asked, and Thaniel flinched.

“He says he almost never gets the library to himself, so he’s going to stay at school most of the time,” he said, voice muffled. “He might come over for Idomoros, so we can... we can pray for our parents.”

Idomoros was the fourth day of the festival, when people got together to think of those they had lost. Some families celebrated their loved ones’ lives, while others treated it as a day of mourning, but the one thing almost everyone did was go to the cemetery where their relatives were laid to rest so they could clean and decorate graves and crypts. In the evenings, there was a community event as well, but it would require leaving school grounds, and at fourteen, Lian wasn’t quite old enough to be the ‘adult’ who escorted Thaniel off campus.

Thaniel and Lian’s parents were buried far away, on their family estate, which also made it very unlikely Lian intended to care for their graves. In fact, the Dunning estate was far enough away that Thaniel hadn’t even gone to his father’s funeral, if such a thing took place. Pandy had the feeling Lord Bryan Conroy’s body had been placed into the ground with very little fanfare after it was discovered that he was most likely a body-snatcher who had been attempting to summon a Demon, which was very much against the law in West Altheric.

“Will anyone be here?” Geraldine asked, looking around at the wooded common area. All of the other students had already gone inside, and the soft shadows enhanced the rather eerie feeling of being utterly alone. More than half of the school’s students went home in the evenings, while another small percentage traveled to family estates just outside of Knightmere on the weekends. Most of the children who lived at Falconet full-time during the school year were ten years old and in their last year. Thaniel, Eleanor, Abbington, Geraldine, and Isidor were some of the few first-years who wouldn’t get to see their families over the long holiday.

Eleanor shook her head. “Both Matilda and Suzanne will spend the week with their families. I think Matilda is leaving right after dinner tonight, while Suzanne will leave when the Open House is over on Monday.”

“Mykal and Silas are leavin’ tonight, too,” Thaniel said, referencing two of his new friends from Governance and Leadership class.

“Lamonia and Phoebe, too,” Geraldine added. These were two other first-years who apparently had Art class with Geraldine and Eleanor. Geraldine often spoke of Phoebe’s artistic talents, and Pandy could tell that she was struggling not to be outright jealous of the other girl’s skill.

“So what’re we gonna do?”Thaniel asked, sitting up. He looked down at Pandy, who had hopped over to him as soon as he laid down. He lowered his voice, saying, “I wish you could take us places. I want to see the grange displays, and get candy!”

And there was the real kicker. On the last day of the Fall Festival, people could dress up in costumes and go house to house, where they would be offered food or small, often handmade, items. No one quite seemed to know the reasoning behind this tradition, but it was much anticipated, and everyone was encouraged to participate, though for the most part it was young, unmarried people and children who went around from house to house, while the older people stayed home and gave out gifts.

Augustus Blackwood, the chancellor of Falconet, and Pandy’s – nothing, because she was an undead rabbit, while he was a semi-retired hunter of Dark mages – had announced that the few teachers remaining on campus Friday would hand out candy, but that wasn’t good enough for Thaniel. He had grown up on an isolated country estate, so he’d never been able to participate in this world’s version of trick-or-treating, and he’d somehow convinced himself that this was His Year. Finding out it was not had been a great blow.

Pandy stood up on her hind legs, bracing her front paws on Thaniel’s chest, and tickled his neck with her whiskers. She wasn’t the only elemental comforting her human, either. Eleanor’s ‘dog’, Lord Winston Howl the Third, was leaning against her leg while she petted him, and Abbington’s capybara, Brook, was nuzzling his hand. Even Miss Cupcakes, Geraldine’s Fire cat, had deigned to allow her young mistress to pick her up and snuggle her cheek into the kitten’s soft fur. Only Isidor and his tortoise, Tempest, weren’t touching, though Pandy was certain the turtle was in Isidor’s pocket, just as she usually was during the day.

The dinner bell rang out over the school grounds, magically amplified from its place somewhere near the chancellor’s office. Children and pets alike turned to look back toward the main building, and most of them jumped up, brushing and tugging at their uniforms as they went. They were supposed to have used the last half hour to brush their hair, wash their faces, and generally restore themselves to a semblance of tidiness after a long day, but now they would just have to do the best they could with fingers and handkerchiefs.

They all scattered, leaving Thaniel and Pandy behind, until Thaniel heaved a sigh that was far too large for his small body. Tucking Pandy beneath his arm, he got to his feet and began trudging back toward the school. “I’m never eatin’ potatoes again,” he muttered to her as he turned onto the path leading to the door. That was absolutely fine with Pandy. Fewer potatoes for Thaniel meant more potatoes for the rabbit under the table.