Fantastic Schools: Volume One (Fantastic Schools Anthologies Book 1)

by Christopher G Nuttall

  “I’ll walk you out, Topher,” Sappho offered.

  They were both silent until they reached Topher’s old pick-up truck.

  “You said you could prove to Temmy that magic was real. What,” Sappho bit her lip on her question, completely distracting Topher from anything she was about to say, “what were you planning to do?”

  Topher had to forcibly remind himself what she was talking about. He stumbled over his words for a moment trying very hard not to stare at her mouth.

  “Um, wing it?” He shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced over the front of the house and yard as he scrambled to form a cogent thought, “I meant it when I said he needs to decide what he will accept as proof. There is no point in showing him something he won’t believe.”

  “Can…” Sappho asked tentatively, “can you show me Chase?”

  “Cat’s out of the bag now, sure.”

  Topher shrugged and opened the passenger door of the pick-up to let her in. As he strapped himself into the driver’s seat, a magpie flew through the open window into the cab of the truck and perched on Topher’s shoulder. Sappho giggled in surprise as he introduced her to his familiar, Bifrost.

  “I am Bifrost,” the magpie chattered in a voice that sounded much like Topher’s.

  Topher turned the key in the ignition and headed toward home. Sappho stared at Bifrost or watched the woods along the road as if she had never seen them before. They drove north through town and followed the Talkeetna River upstream for a few miles. Shortly after they crossed the river, they came to a hand-painted sign that said, “WELCOME TO CHASE” and depicted a guy being chased by a bear alongside a train. Topher turned onto the narrow gravel road that skirted past the sign and continued into the woods. About a half of a mile down the road, they started to pass the driveways that led to outlying homesteads. They were still outside the obscuration that hid the village of Chase, Alaska from the Unwary. After another mile, Topher pulled into a dilapidated gas station with a garage that had much in common with a junkyard.

  “This is your place?” Sappho inquired genuinely.

  “No, this is where most folks in the village park their vehicles if they have them. Magic tends to make objects seem more alive. That doesn’t mesh too well with machines and technological devices. It takes a lot of effort to get them to behave normally when there is a lot of magical energy in an environment. It’s easier just to leave them all in one spot.”

  Topher finished his brief explanation as he pulled into the shabby looking garage that was much bigger and nicer on the inside than it had looked on the outside. The garage was sectioned-off by family. Every section of vehicles seemed to contain a truck or SUV and one or more snow machines. Sappho gawked at the huge, well-maintained parking garage that did not remotely fit with its exterior.

  “Are you ready for some magic?” Topher asked as they got out of the pick-up and gestured around, “I mean, more than this?”

  “This is magic?”

  Sappho was having trouble closing her mouth as she looked around.

  “There is a magical disguise over the building. The practice is called obscuration. We have done the same thing to the whole village so people don’t notice how we live here.

  “C’mon,” Topher prompted, “you will hardly believe the next thing I am going to show you.”

  Topher led her into a closet that contained a tall, blue-tinted mirror.

  “Here, take my hand and place the other on the Glass,” Topher instructed with an encouraging smile, “and step forward.”

  As soon as they touched the Glass, their reflections were replaced by a room where a middle-aged man stood at a counter sorting mail with a wall of open-faced post office boxes behind him.

  Sappho gasped in amazement as they passed through the Walking Glass from the parking garage into the Glass Hall of Chase. It was not large as Glass Halls go. There were only two Glasses, the one that went to the parking garage and the other that went to Anchorage. Their Glass Hall was really just one wall of the log cabin post office. Topher greeted the postmaster and introduced Sappho, explaining that her younger brother was a scholarship candidate. The postmaster welcomed her to the World of the Wise as they stepped out of the building.

  The village of Chase was quaint, almost touristy-looking if you didn’t know better. All the buildings were handsome log cabins that had either shingle or sod roofs. Everyone had planters and hanging flower pots decorating their front porches now that it was summer. If you didn’t know your way around, it would be hard to tell which buildings were businesses and which were homes because nothing had a sign. Everyone who lived there just knew where things were. There was a horseshoe court in front of the coffee shop, a small shrine to Aesclepius where the healer lived, a donation bin on the porch of the library, a window full of pretty glass bottles in the front of the Apothecary, a cluster of umbrella tables in front of the market, dog beds with occupants lined the front of the sporting goods store, etc.

  They didn’t bother building roads in Chase since no one drove there. Instead, there was a long grassy park where most towns had a Main Street. There was plenty of room to walk and benches dotted every so often where people could picnic or sit. Any home or business that was not on the park strip was situated wherever the terrain suited it best. Some cabins faced back to front, others were side by side, while many stood alone. Walking trails wound every which way a person might want to go. Several paths led to the river.

  Topher showed Sappho all there was to be seen of the village, and he pointed out the direction of the homesteads that were accessible by the road as well as a path that led to his own home. While they walked around, they even had a chance to see people using flying umbrellas or bristleless flying brooms. Sappho spent most of the tour in wide-eyed amazement even when things looked relatively normal.

  Many people were interested to see a visitor, and some recognized Sappho from trips to Talkeetna or the annual State Fair livestock and beekeeping exhibition. People asked her if she was going to go to school with Topher in the fall.

  Sappho didn’t bring up any other subjects for conversation until they were on the park strip again, heading back to the Post Office.

  “There is no way that Temmy could doubt all of this,” Sappho assured Topher. “It’s harder for me to believe we didn’t know about it already. He would be crazy not to want to go to school with you.”

  “Well,” Topher started, trying to sound reasonable and compassionate, “when people are scared, they often act out with anger. I can understand how leaving everything you know for a place where the world does not work the way you thought it did would be terrifying. I was scared to go away to school for the first time, and I wanted it, plus my sister was there for my first two years. Temmy never asked for any of this. That is some heavy pressure for a kid his age.”

  “Do you like going to school at Roanoke?” she asked Topher.

  “Of course,” Topher answered, “I have good friends and interesting classes… I am part of something important there. I’m not just the weird kid or the nerdy guy.”

  “Do you think I would like it there?” Sappho continued hesitantly.

  Topher paused and looked carefully at her before he spoke, “Yeah, I think you would. I think you would do well there, even if you are good at different things than what O.I. is looking for.”

  Sappho sighed, “I shouldn’t be thinking of applying to another school. I already have a scholarship and financial aid package somewhere else and it took months to get all of that organized. But it sounds amazing and Temmy might be more comfortable going if I went too. It would be like you and your sister.”

  Topher shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at his feet as he thought.

  “I’m a recruiter for O.I., not Roanoke. I don’t know what other kinds of scholarships are available. I can ask my boss if there is some kind of sibling benefit. You could at least apply and see what they are willing to offer.”

  “I’m…” suddenly
neither of them could look at the other even though they talked together intimately as if they had never stopped being friends growing up, “I’m almost afraid to try. What if I get my hopes up… I get Temmy’s hopes up… and then we are all disappointed?”

  “Wouldn’t you be disappointed if you never tried and only wondered what would have happened?”

  Sappho looked up at Topher. The ghost of hope sparked in her eyes, and she smiled at him. Everything else in the world faded briefly into oblivion. Topher’s throat went dry, and he forgot how to speak, then he tripped into a small sinkhole that was disguised by the grass.

  “Topher, are you okay?”

  He grunted as he picked himself up off the ground, “You have to have some dignity before you can injure it.”

  Sappho caught herself before she said anything and giggled nervously. The death of Topher’s aspirations to impress her resounded in his ears. He wondered for the millionth time why he was only so accident prone at the absolute most inopportune moments. What had he done to so greatly offend some host of gods or spirits?

  There was nothing left but to take Sappho home. He checked-in with Mrs. Ferguson and thanked her again for the opportunity to talk with them all. He quietly assured Sappho that he had included a second admissions application in the inquiry packet he had given to her mom before leaving. He tried very hard not to think about Sappho and Temmy Ferguson for the rest of the day.

  “You are in Alaska, William, you don’t need to wear a full suit,” Topher informed his friend as they exited the elevator.

  “I was under the impression that this restaurant has a dress code,” William Locke, partial heir to Ouroboros Industries, replied as he raised his brow and glanced around at the wood-paneled walls, polished brass fixtures, and expansive views of the Cook Inlet from high above downtown Anchorage.

  “That tends to mean something a little different here. They do that to make sure people don’t sit down in flip-flops or with paint on their clothes.”

  Topher himself was wearing a plaid button-down shirt and khakis.

  As they followed the hostess to their table, both young men saw others attired as they were. Business lunches were taking place just a table or two from casually-dressed tourists who were almost too distracted by the views to eat. Nowhere else, though, were the mismatched styles seated at the same table.

  “I understand you found a candidate for the eight-year scholarship to Roanoke,” William inquired after they had ordered lunch.

  Topher sighed, “He’s an excellent candidate, if only he would take the final tests and prove it. The kid’s brilliant. He is in the top percentile of every subject and almost the entire family shows signs of magical talent. They are all trying to talk him into going, but he won’t budge.”

  “That is why we use recruiters instead of just sending a letter of invitation. Recruiting among the Unwary is always a gamble. We don’t win them all. Your supervisor tells me there is an interested older sister, however. With regard to our long-term goals, a family with two potential college students is a successful find, even if the boy does not apply to the Upper School,” William offered matter-of-factly.

  “I am not turning into much of a recruiter,” Topher admitted. “Mrs. Ferguson has spent more time talking to my mom over the last nine days than she has to me.”

  “Excellent use of resources,” William countered, “I like hiring people with connections.”

  “Someone who gets their mom to do their work for them?”

  Topher’s doubt and frustration were seeping into the conversation in spite of his best efforts. His connection to William Locke was part of his concern about doing this job well. Not only did he want to impress his friend but he wanted to make sure that no one else thought he had the job only because of their friendship.

  “Are you getting your mother to do your work?” William asked coolly.

  “Not on purpose,” Topher adamantly replied. “I found out yesterday that Mrs. Ferguson has called my mom four times since my initial interview. I was already out of the loop by the time I made my one-week follow-up call.”

  “Emotion is clouding your judgement, Evans. Your mother offers something no professional recruiter could; she is the parent of a current student who has already experienced what the Fergusons are considering. According to your report, she was already acquainted with your parents?”

  Topher nodded, “Mrs. Ferguson and her sisters grew up with my dad. They went to high school together for a couple of years. She has known my mom ever since my parents got married and moved back here after college.”

  “This has put you in an excellent position, Evans. The candidate-parents are hooked. Make sure you are available when they have questions for you. If they seek advice from friends as well, it is simply an indicator that they are interested, and you need to keep working with them. The boy is a minor; it is ultimately up to his parents whether he continues in the application process.”

  “There is one more snag,” Top her warned. “They have asked a lot about my experience starting school with my sister there. This might turn into a two or nothing situation, and the older one doesn’t have the math and science scores to put her in the running. She is going to have to accept the scholarship offer she already has to another university, and then we lose the younger one.”

  “If she can qualify for scholarships to a mundane university and has the magical talent to grant her admission to Roanoke, they will find a sponsor to cover her tuition,” William assured Topher. “Roanoke has had many benefactors over the centuries whose interests had nothing to do with those of O.I. We can let her take the aptitude tests with her younger brother. The admissions staff at Roanoke will let her know if she merits a scholarship. I am sure that will be the least of her challenges.”

  Their conversation shifted to other topics over the course of their meal until Topher walked William to his car.

  “Your experience with this candidate family provides a strong argument in favor of using a network of student and alumni recruiters now that so many states and provinces are using the O.I. Annual Student Assessment Tests. I will tell the department to look into it. Well done, Evans.”

  “I got in, Topher!”

  Sappho was running out the front door before Topher brought his pick-up to a complete stop at the head of the Ferguson’s driveway. She threw her arms around him before he could close his door. This might have been a good thing since he stumbled back into the door as he caught her, which prevented him from falling over backwards. She laughed as all the air puffed out of him when the door slammed shut under his back.

  Topher smiled as he struggled to say something sensible. “Congratulations.”

  This was a development Topher had not expected. Over the last month since his initial interview with Temmy, they had talked a few times. It had always been in relation to some aspect of her little brother’s scholarship candidacy or applying to the Roanoke College. They had not spent time alone together since that first day when he fell flat on his face in front of her. She had remained friendly but had not shown any special interest in him more than in Roanoke and the World of the Wise.

  Mr. & Mrs. Ferguson had accepted the offer to let their three youngest children take the O.I. test for magical aptitude even though Temmy was the only one who could qualify as a finalist for an O.I. scholarship. All three of them had shown talent with such a broad range of magical ability that they would be accepted into Roanoke Academy for the Sorcerous Arts. Temmy’s scores on the final O.I. tests had outpaced all other finalists, so the scholarship was his, if they wanted it. The family settled on the plan to send both Sappho and Temmy, if financial assistance could be arranged. Penelope would wait at least a year before applying.

  Mrs. Ferguson had called Topher yesterday to inform him that they had received a response from Roanoke. Sappho had shown both the aptitude and the financial need to qualify for a scholarship sponsored by a benefactor. Temmy was willing to go away to boarding school since his sist
er would be there with him. Mrs. Ferguson had asked Topher to come over to discuss the supply list and class schedules provided by the school.

  Topher’s part in the discussion was more about encouragement than being informative. The admissions letter, class schedules, supply lists and catalogs were rather thorough. Any family would be capable of sending a new student off to school with the aid of the written materials alone. The Fergusons mostly needed someone to assure them that it would all be okay and that they were not alone in a strange new world.

  There were a few items on the lists that inspired questions from the Fergusons. They wanted to know if it was better to purchase most of the supplies from the campus stores or buy them ahead of time. Some of the items on the supply list were rather surprising to them as well.

  “They don’t say what kind of musical instrument to bring? What if the kids don’t know how to play anything?”

  “Beginning Music is designed to allow students to spend the first few weeks trying different instruments,” Topher assured them.

  “Some instruments can be pretty expensive. How will they know what they can choose?”

  “This is where Sappho is going to find things a bit more challenging than Temmy,” Topher admitted. “Temmy’s stipend is designed to pay for all required class materials. He can select any one instrument that he has an affinity for. If it takes him a while to figure that out or if he wants to play more than one, he can borrow school equipment until he selects a primary instrument that will fall under the stipend. The same is true of his familiar. Those are each single purchases intended to last over all eight years. You will find other supplies that work that way as the years go on.”