“Hmmm,” said De Rigueur loudly. “I’m genuinely puzzled. I’ve two remaining boys here, and only one missing student. So which one of you is Arthur, and which one jumped back in line after you were called out?”
Kuro rolled his eyes and sighed quietly to himself. De Rigueur had failed to recognize him only because he had forgotten that Kuro existed.
“Well, I’ll admit that I’m amazed at your abilities, Arthur. But I’ve caught you out.” He pointed at the shawl-covered boy next to Kuro. “Your height gave you away. Honestly, it is all that I could pin on you.”
Arthur made a bit of a show of getting tangled in the shawl as he took it off. When he managed to get his head out from under it, he had changed his face and hair back to normal. He winked at Kuro as he walked away.
De Rigueur looked up and down the collection of students and turned back to Kuro in confusion. “All right, young man, take it off. Reveal yourself,” De Rigueur ordered.
Kuro removed the oversized purple top hat he’d been wearing and tossed it aside proudly. De Rigueur made no indication of recognition.
“Did you come in from another class?” asked De Rigueur.
Even without the distracting hat, De Rigueur still didn’t recognize Kuro. Kuro wanted to believe that it was because his potion had been extra potent, but he knew the truth. De Rigueur paid so little attention to Kuro that he wouldn’t have recognized him on the street if his name had been written across his shirt.
“As you say, sir,” Kuro agreed, not seeing a point in fighting it. “I’ll just get my bag and go. Sorry to cause any trouble.”
“No, none at all,” laughed Professeur De Rigueur. “Terribly good trick. I was quite the prankster, myself, back in my day. Off you go, then, before your teacher misses you.”
Kuro grabbed his book bag, slid his beaker of potion quickly onto one of the shelves inside it while De Rigueur wasn’t watching, and quietly left. He heard De Rigueur congratulating Arthur and Evelyn again for their excellent performance on his way out the door.
Kuro was very discouraged. He had really started to care about school. Sometime over the past few months, he had started wanting to stay, to come back next year and see his friends. It hurt that the only class he was really any good at was also the class in which the teacher didn’t acknowledge that he existed.
The pot full of distracting draught in his satchel offered some consolation, though. De Rigueur would make everyone else dump theirs. The professeur was always very careful about it. He had told them that he’d had to be ever since an incident when some Vertheim boys made all of Summerhill weightless for most of an evening. In being beneath De Rigueur’s notice, Kuro had won a small victory.
He scrounged through the drawers in his bag for something to wear and found the ribbon from one of his Solstice present wrappings. He tied it around his head, took another sip of his potion, just to be sure, and walked proudly through the halls.
Nobody took any notice of him. There were no suspicious glares. Nobody crossed the hall to avoid him. The looks he got were from people who seemed unsure if they should greet him or not, uncertain if they knew him personally.
This is going to be great, Kuro thought.
Twenty
Return to Sender
The next few days were wonderful. Kuro was nobody again. It was even better than going unnoticed on the streets, because he was being ignored as an equal. He could walk through the halls freely, smiling cordially to people who would put on an uneasy smile as they tried to put a name to his face.
He struck up a couple of conversations with other students in the halls about the weather, the upcoming lacrosse game, and the unfairness of homework. They all talked with him politely and happily shared their opinions, though they were a little uncertain about the moustache he had grown using the cream Arthur had given him. He felt like a normal person. He knew it was temporary; his potion wouldn’t last out the week. It would spoil even if he didn’t drink it all, but he would take as much advantage of it as he could.
He decided to join the hunt for IOU notes. He wasn’t as practised at the art of deception as Marie was, but he had seen professional swindlers at work enough in Bytown Market to have a grasp of the basics. First, he needed to find his marks and establish a bond of trust. This part was easy. He found small groups of people, and as he walked past, he pulled a fake IOU out of his pocket. He made as though he had just found out his candy had been stolen.
Often the students were sympathetic and offered condolences, especially the older ones. A couple of times he was even given replacement candy. When he met someone who had also received a note, they were often eager to tell him of their own losses and commiserate.
The next part of the plan wasn’t as easy. He needed to convince them to give him their notes. Talking wasn’t his strong suit. He was much better at hiding, being quiet, and going unnoticed. He also didn’t like lying, especially as many of the students were quite upset at their losses. He didn’t think it right to deceive them further. Fortunately, he had some truth on his side. He could tell them he had heard that an Autumn Lodge high schooler was trying to make a case with the notes, and that he thought he would turn his note over to Meredith Thrump.
A few of the students he was talking to gave Kuro their notes to turn in with his. A couple of others promised to pass their notes to Meredith themselves.
The con was easy, but he left every encounter with his hands sweaty and his heart pounding from fear of being caught. He didn’t understand how Marie did it so casually. It was also hard to stand and nod along as people spoke poorly of him. Normally people were polite enough to not share their opinions of Kuro with each other in his presence. Since the people he was talking to didn’t recognize him, however, they held nothing back. Being reminded that he was a short, funny-looking, big-eared, no good, stupid, worthless thief got pretty hard to hear.
By Saturday, Kuro had run out of distracting draught. It didn’t matter, though. He had collected four IOUs and brought them proudly to the secret meeting with Arthur, Charlie, and Marie. He hadn’t had an opportunity to properly brag about his week’s activities and was eager to share. He bounded into the disused basement classroom they had agreed to meet in but nearly tripped over himself when he saw a huge bearlike figure looming in the dimly lit room.
He leapt back and conjured a light to better see the uninvited guest. A glow flickered at his fingertip for an instant and then exploded, launching him backwards into the wall.
The huge figure rose and ran to his aid. He felt very foolish as Meredith’s familiar jagged grin came into clear view. “What are you doing here?” Kuro asked as he picked himself up off the ground.
“I’ve come to collect the notes you have,” answered Meredith in her deep joyful voice. “I’ve got something sorted out.”
“What is it?” he asked eagerly.
“It’s a surprise,” said Charlie grouchily before Meredith could answer. “She won’t tell us.”
“I said you would know tomorrow afternoon,” Meredith defended. “It’s going to be great, I promise.”
Kuro had no choice but to agree. He rotated his bag around to an angle where he could reach the drawer he had been keeping the collected notes in and pulled out the small stack. With his own additions and the ones from the others that week, they had nearly thirty of them.
Meredith collected them all and stuffed them in her own satchel. On her way out the door, she stopped to look suspiciously at Kuro. “My classmates, Marcelle and Hannah, both gave me notes, telling me that a very short Lodger with a moustache had told them I was collecting them. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
Kuro was about to explain eagerly about the potion and his clever method of collecting notes, but something in her voice gave him pause. “Why do you ask?” he said, avoiding her eyes.
“Because the unsanctioned use of potions and spells, particularly mind-affecting ones, are the sort of thing
that could get you in a lot of trouble, and I’m kind of responsible for the younger Lodgers. I can’t think of any with a bushy moustache, though. Can you?”
“No,” replied Kuro. “That would be a very odd thing for a junior student to have.”
“Well, since I can’t identify the student, I suppose there’s nothing I can do. But if I get any more reports of suspicious activity, I’d have to look into it. Understand?”
“Yeah, of course,” said Kuro.
The rest of the day moved like molasses in Alfheim. They all had a mountain of homework that needed doing, and the only thing on any of their minds was Meredith’s surprise. Tomorrow had never seemed so far away.
They collectively worked through the incomprehensible algorithms for numerology. They were learning various ways to divide things by zero. This was a particularly frustrating unit as whenever they successfully solved a problem, the page they were working on would cease to exist. Mrs. Lovelace had told them this was a good sign, but it made it very difficult to refer to past problems for help.
Charlie made a small error on one problem and accidentally caused her work to multiply uncontrollably. They had to flee the room before the mass of expanding paper trapped them inside and crushed them all. They took this as a sign to stop working and turn in for bed.
Kuro had more trouble sleeping than usual. He trusted Meredith that whatever her surprise was, it would be good, but he really wished that she hadn’t told him to expect a surprise. It made him anxious, and that turned into a restless night plagued by nightmares when he could sleep.
He dragged himself, bleary eyed and late, to school. Something very odd was going on. On his walk to school, he could see a steady stream of high school students descending the cliff to the junior high on their summoned winds, winged horses, and enchanted carpets.
Upon entering the school, he was directed to leave again and head to the amphitheatre.
As he picked his way through the crowd to where his class was sitting, he noticed Meredith talking to Bella on a higher tier of benches. Bella was nodding resignedly. Then Meredith walked out of the bleachers and down to the stage.
On the stage were several teachers, including Flint and Ms. McCutcheon, along with their counterparts, Principal Thrymson and Vice Principal Lefay from the high school. Also lounging about on stage were a half-dozen lutin. Meredith was speaking to Ms. Crawley and one of the unfamiliar teachers, a relatively young man with a calculated quantity of stubble and wavy hair carefully styled to look as though it hadn’t been.
Ms. Crawley smiled and nodded to Meredith, then made her way to a lectern at centre stage. She waited for the students to notice her and quiet down before she spoke. “Thank you all for your attention. We have a special demonstration today.” Kuro thought he saw a slightly mischievous smirk creeping out through the teacher’s carefully controlled calm. “One of our students has been working with myself and Mr. Pendragon to develop a new spell, along with the help of some of our lutin staff. We thought you would all like to see it first, before we publish it more publicly.”
Ms. Crawley waited for the polite clapping and curious chatter to settle before continuing. “It is a spell that returns mail to the sender, even if the sender is unknown. This has been quite a tricky bit of magic to work out. It combines two familiar spells, a returning spell to have objects return themselves to their owners, and the enchantment used to help direct postal lutin to return regular letters to their sender. We have had a unique opportunity to test it out as several notes from an unidentified source have been circulating this year. I am quite pleased with the result.”
A murmur started to pass through the crowd of students. Many eyes turned to Kuro. For the first time, he did not feel the need to shrink under the accusing gazes. Instead he scanned the assembly for guilty eyes.
“I’ve one here to demonstrate with,” said Mr. Pendragon with a roguish smirk. He held up a torn piece of paper with the letters “IOU” clearly visible. He walked over and handed it to Welk, the lutin, then started to cast.
Mr. Pendragon and Ms. Crawley had to cast simultaneously, one in Gaelic, the other in French. They moved in separate rhythms, and their voices varied from harmonies to unpleasant dissonance. Welk, one of the lodge lutin, stood in front of them holding an IOU note. After a few seconds, Welk’s eyes brightened, and he gave them a thumbs up before vanishing.
All eyes turned to Kuro, but Welk did not appear anywhere near him. The audience was murmuring quiet accusations and insults, but not loudly enough to drown out the loud and bright voice of Welk calling out from the back rows of the amphitheatre. “Letter for you, Miss!” he said.
All eyes snapped to the bench where Welk was politely presenting the IOU to Bella, who accepted it, looking grim but unsurprised.
The entire student body gasped. One of the Summerhill boys stood and started shouting. “That’s rubbish. Everyone knows who makes those notes.”
“Sit down, Hugo,” Bella growled and yanked the older boy into his seat.
Mr. Pendragon had apparently been expecting this. “Bella has already confessed to the forgery and has served her sentence. What was it, Bella, the cost of framing a fellow student for theft?”
“Two weeks of night detention,” she said loudly enough for the whole assembly to hear. She looked simultaneously angry, ashamed, and somehow very smug.
Pendragon continued, his bright, friendly voice starting to turn darker. “I’ve heard that there were other similar notes as well. Does anyone have one we could test the charm on?” There was a rustling of bags, and several hands went up with scraps of paper in their fingers. Some of the teachers at the front produced small piles of their own, and Meredith held up her stack.
The mood of the assembly was changing. Eyes had turned from Kuro and were now looking around warily at other students. Ms. Crawley and Mr. Pendragon started casting their spell over and over as the lutin grabbed notes and delivered them back to their authors.
As the notes were delivered around the room, angry shouting and fevered denials filled the amphitheatre.
Kuro was startled by a sudden fight erupting right beside him. Oliver had tackled Sean and was screaming bloody murder at him. His attention was torn from that by a shriek of indignant fury and denial as a note was politely dropped into Evelyn’s lap.
It looked like the entire school was about to hurtle into an all-out brawl when the room fell suddenly, utterly, magically silent. The only remaining noise in the amphitheatre was the gentle swishing of Principal McCutcheon’s skirts as she walked calmly from her seat on the stage to replace Ms. Crawley at the lectern. The fighting stopped. Everyone looked up, curious and frightened of what she might do.
Ms. McCutcheon looked out over the students with an expression so severe that several visibly shuddered under it. She stood unspeaking for an agonizingly long time, her disapproval falling over the room like a crushing weight. “I am,” she began, her voice cold and level, “exceedingly disappointed. To think that given the slightest opportunity, students at this school would descend to theft, would betray the trust of one another, and would without shame allow an innocent to shoulder the blame. If I had not seen it for myself, I would not have believed it.”
Her anger was palpable, and several students looked ready to run. “The very notion that students here would abandon all of the values Avalon espouses, nobility, honour, integrity, and discipline, is appalling. It is not only a failure of the individuals, but of those who allowed this to happen and to carry on for so long: their friends, their family within their residences, the school as a whole, and in this I include myself. We should all do better.”
The magical silence faded, but it was barely noticeable. The guilt and shame hanging over the room had stolen away their voices. Even the victims of the thefts were shamed for blaming Kuro so readily.
“The penalty for each forged note will match that described by Belladonna. Vice principals from both schools shall be speaking
with each of you to arrange your detentions.”
Kuro could see Mr. Flint and Miss Lefay making lists of who had received a returned note.
The students were growing restless and angry again, but before a new riot could erupt, the principal continued, “Consider this an opportunity to prove ourselves better people in the second half of the year, to encourage stronger relationships and heal some of the damage done by the choices made by several of you.”
“I should also remind you”—a sharpness to her voice cut down the rumbles of rebellion—“that the punishment being prescribed matches that given to someone with the strength of character to admit to their wrongdoing and make efforts to atone to their victim. I have faith that the rest of you will demonstrate similar integrity. If I find over the coming days that this is not the case, and my faith has been misplaced, myself and Principal Thrymson will have no choice but to meet with you personally, likely in the company of your parents.”
Ms. McCutcheon gestured to the mountain of a man who was the principal of Avalon High. He nodded slowly in agreement while his eyes bore holes into the guilty students.
Ms. McCutcheon left the lectern, indicating that the assembly was over and that students should return to their classes. Many angry glares shot between students as they filed out of the amphitheatre. A few people fled quickly, pushing through the crowd and running to return their stolen goods before Ms. McCutcheon or their victims could mete out any more serious retribution. Only one person was looking at Kuro with any particular interest: Evelyn Lemieux.
Her eyes were knives as she tried to glare Kuro to death. She had her forged IOU crushed into a ball in her hand, and her flawless ivory skin had turned an ugly shade of red. The problem was of her own making, but she looked at Kuro with such enmity, such unbridled loathing, that Kuro couldn’t help but smile.
Volume 1: Pickpocketing Page 25
