They traveled further as the light began to disappear, perusing Keith’s Illinois road map with interest by the light of a hastily twisted wick Enoch made from the rag Keith used to check his oil. Keith watched the process with interest. “It looks so easy,” he said wistfully.
“It is easy,” Enoch assured him. “A matter of practice, naturally, much like you’re driving this car.”
“Want to swap lessons?” Keith offered hopefully.
“One day, when there is more time,” Enoch considered.
“Go on,” Holl urged his friend, with a twinkle in his eye. “I’ll get you a box to sit on.”
O O O
They looked at large farms with “For Sale” signs on them, especially those on lots with heavy forestation. The two elves looked at the farms speculatively. The real estate idea had been firmly planted by Keith, and it was germinating.
When it started to grow dim, the Mustang turned back toward town. “The others might like to have a drive around to look at things,” Holl said. Enoch nodded.
“Sure,” Keith said, pulling into campus. “Happy to oblige. Doyle Tours, Limited, a division of Hollow Tree Industries. We cater to Legendary Beings.”
***
Chapter 24
When he turned the corner to drop them off at Gillington, he spotted a crowd milling in the common outside the building. “Gack!” Keith exclaimed, and slammed on the brakes. The elves were thrown forward, but Keith was too distracted to apologize. A huge crowd of students and a bunch of police cars, with their blue lights revolving, were clustered around the corner of the building near the elves’ back door. Campus security was there, too, keeping the curious onlookers out of the way of the police.
“What is it?” Holl demanded. “What’s happening?”
“Did they get in? Is the doorway open?” Enoch barked worriedly.
Keith signaled to them to lie down flat, and got out of the car. He boosted himself up on top of the hood and squinted through the revolving lights at the building. “There’re a bunch of people at the wall,” he called down to them. “They’re looking at the stonework. It looks like it’s damaged. But I don’t think it’s broken through. All surface damage, but it’s really extensive.” One of the men in gray overalls felt around inside a crater about the size of Keith’s head that had been blasted out of the masonry.
“Hey, you!” A security guard in a green uniform came striding over and glared up at Keith. “What are you doing here? There’s no parking!”
“I’m, um …” Keith said glibly, scrambling down.
“What’s all this back here?” the security officer snapped out, yanking up the bulky tarpaulin in the back seat of the car. Keith’s heart stopped. “Wood?”
“I’m taking it to the woodshop, officer,” he croaked out. “It’s for a project.”
The man nodded and waved a dismissive hand at him. “Good. Then take it over there. Move your car out of this vicinity. Say,” he said abruptly, with a searching look at Keith and his Mustang, “do you live on campus? I think I’ve seen that vehicle.…”
“Yes, sir,” Keith said immediately, interrupting him. “Thank you, sir. I’m going.” He jumped back into the car and backed it away from the officer, who was still studying him. “Why didn’t he see you?” he asked the back seat in astonishment.
“He wasn’t looking for us,” Holl explained.
“Magic?”
“Park the car,” said Enoch’s voice tiredly. “We’ll have to hide.”
O O O
He followed the two elves across the Student Common to a manhole cover well hidden behind a clump of bushes. There was still enough of a crowd to put Keith in panic. He was afraid that someone would spot them, but the mob’s attention was still on the library wall. Now, men in coveralls were bringing forward a wheelbarrow containing a bag of cement. It looked like they were going to fix the break on the spot. A mini-cam crew from the local news station positioned itself near the damaged wall and began rolling tape. A commentator placed herself in plain sight, and spoke earnestly into her microphone. The crowd moved in closer.
It took the combined strength of both elves to pry up the heavy steel cover. Keith kept a lookout as they slid down into the dark hole. He let the lid down as gently over his head as he could, and felt his way down an iron ladder made of staples hammered into the wall. When he reached the bottom, he discovered that it was not entirely dark down there. They were in a portion of a steam tunnel.
“The way is blocked,” Holl explained, pointing along a spot-lit walkway to the distant end of the tunnel, “but at least we can let them know that we are all right. I will signal.”
“They’re sealing that block of wall up there with cement,” Keith told him. “Someone was definitely trying to get in. He did a lot of damage. You won’t be able to use that door.”
Holl looked worried. “That means that someone else was spying upon us. There’s no mistake now. I thought so. Wait here.” He strode down the hall through the patches of light and darkness, his figure strobing in and out of existence.
Enoch looked around him with a sort of nostalgia. “This is my earliest memory of Midwestern University. We found this place. I stole food from maintenance workers so we could live.”
“I know,” Keith said absently, surveying the place curiously. “Ludmilla told me about it.” He realized what he had just said and froze. He glanced at Enoch, and the elf had stopped in place too, with open shock on his face.
The pose broke, and the brows drew down over Enoch’s nose. “You know about her.” It was an accusation. Enoch’s hands closed into fists, and Keith wondered if he was going to hit him. He considered, uncomfortably, that he probably deserved it. Never could keep a secret from birth, he chided himself. “How did you find her?”
“Lee told me,” Keith admitted meekly. “I needed to know things. I’ve taken Marcy there, too. Ludmilla asked to see her.”
“Ah,” Enoch said. He pursed his lips thoughtfully and the fists un-balled. “I would suppose it is all right, then.”
“She said to say ‘hi’ to her oldest friend.”
The elf nodded, friendly again. “I say ‘hi’ back to her, then.”
“Maybe you’d better say it yourself,” Keith said, looking around. “There’s no way you can get back into the library through the main door with all this ruckus going on. And it’s closed tomorrow, Sunday. This place doesn’t look too comfortable. Maybe you should stay with her overnight.”
“That is an idea with merit.”
“So it is,” said Holl, coming back through the lights. “We are accounted for. The elders were worried to death when they heard the scratching on the stone. It must have been a hammer and chisel that did all that damage.” He examined his knuckles. “I’ve never tapped so long a message. My hand is scraped sore.”
“We will stay here until it is full dark and then go. It is a good thing that we had such a good midday meal. We may have a long wait.”
“Well, I’d better get out of here. They’ll be keeping a close watch on anyone wandering around after dark, and I’ve got something to hide.”
“Leave me the keys to your car, Keith Doyle,” Holl said. “We’ve still got to get the wood. We’ve a business to run.”
As Keith started to shinny up the ladder, Enoch looked up at him. “By the way, Keith Doyle, I’m sorry I made a mess of your dormitory room. You’re a good fellow after all.”
Keith did a double-take. “It was you?” he demanded, dumbfounded. “Both times?”
“Well, certainly,” Enoch said with asperity. “Perfectly understandable in the circumstances. Don’t you agree?”
Holl chuckled. “It’s a good thing there’s peace between you now.”
O O O
Two men in green security uniforms stood up as Keith entered the foyer of Power Hall. He recognized the shorter of the two as the guard who stopped him outside Gillington Library. “Keith Doyle?” one of them asked.
“That’s me.
”
The bigger man behaved as if he was uncomfortable. “We’re here because we received information.… You understand we’re not accusing you, but we have to check every lead on something like this.”
Keith felt his throat go tight. “On something like what?”
The other guard felt it was time to speak up. “I saw you over by the library. In fact, I’ve seen you there a lot. You know what was going on there?”
“It looked like someone bashed a hole in the wall.”
“Right. Know anything about it?”
“No, sir. I’ve been out all day.”
The big guard jumped on his phrase. “And how did you know it happened today?”
Keith swallowed. “Well, I meet my … girl there. A lot. That’s … where we meet.”
“Very sweet,” the guard said unsympathetically. He’d broken up a lot of necking couples in his time, and enjoyed it. “Our source said he saw you hiding around there this morning around dawn.”
“What? Who?” Keith demanded. “Who was hanging around at dawn? Why?”
“Jogging,” the guard said, glaring at Keith. “And we’re not identifying him to you at this time. I’m asking you again: what were you doing?”
O O O
Keith got away somehow, leaving the guards only marginally convinced of his innocence, and fled to his dorm room. Pat was there, lying on his back reading with the stereo headphones on. Setting the book down on his chest, he looked down his long nose at Keith. “The cops were up here looking for you. Where’d you hide the body? I told ’em I didn’t know when you’d be back.”
“They were waiting for me in the lobby.”
“What have you done? Stolen the kiddies’ milk money?”
“Nothing.” Keith scowled, shucking off his jacket.
Pat levered himself up onto an elbow. “Doyle, I don’t believe you. What is going on? Carl told me about the Senate thing and the Historical Society. What is there about the library and you, anyway?”
“Nothing I can explain right now. I would if I could. I will, as soon as I can.”
Pat raised his eyebrows into a thin, dark arch. “Don’t do me any favors.”
Keith shrugged, flopping into a chair. “I don’t know how, but I’m sure that Carl helped set me up for the security guards.”
His roommate threw back his head and groaned. “Will you lay off Carl? You must think he’s really out to get you. It bugs him. And he’s still pissed at you because you accused him of trashing the room.”
Keith considered. “Maybe I should apologize to him for that. I found out who did it.”
“Oh? Who?”
“A guy who thought I was trying to steal his girlfriend.”
“Is this the girl from Sociology class?” Keith nodded. “Does he live on campus?”
Keith shot Pat an enigmatic look. “Yes.”
“Well, then you can return the favor some time. I’ll help,” Pat offered. “Gladly. I think we got ants from the last Coke spill.”
“We’ve come to an arrangement. Besides, I’m not interested in her anymore.”
“What, after all semester of dreaming and bellyaching?”
“I’ve found this wonderful girl.…”
Pat raised a hand to halt the babble. “Don’t tell me. I’ve got better things to do.”
Keith grinned at him, and reached for his homework.
O O O
His anxiety over the anonymous informer made him sleep badly. He was sure in the back of his mind that the vandal and the informer were the same person. Security would have noticed if the damage had been done later in the day. Surely it was just one person. Whoever it was was serious or desperate enough to draw the attention of the whole world to the elves’ retreat. His nervousness was compounded by his concern for Enoch and Holl, but a call from Ludmilla Hempert early the next morning helped to assuage his guilty feelings.
The local newspaper’s headline announced “Vandals Deface Historic Gillington.” Keith went through the story a dozen times, and walked as near as he dared to the building, itching to get inside. He felt frustrated because the way was blocked, and he knew he was being watched. He was still concerned about the two elves, but it was a needless worry. They knew their way around the campus better than he did, and ought to have no trouble staying out of sight. He could be their biggest hazard.
***
Chapter 25
It wasn’t until Tuesday evening that he managed to get down to the village through the classroom passage. To his relief, Holl and Enoch were both there, no worse for their adventure, and had somehow managed to transport the supply of wood inside without attracting notice. When Keith pressed them for details, Holl would say only, “Old skills,” his favorite answer and Keith’s least favorite.
They had discussed all of their sightseeing with the others in their clans, and most of them were keen to take a tour themselves, with Keith’s fellow students wanting first go. He promised to figure out some way to do it, as soon as it was safe.
“I don’t think it’ll be a good idea for a few weeks,” he insisted. “There’s somebody out there who knows you’re here, and just wants to cause trouble.”
“No. The sooner the better,” Catra insisted. “We can’t find a new home by inspiration. We need to see what is available to us.”
“I’m concerned about the break-in. Who was it? Did anybody see him? Whoever it was must have been hammering on that stone for a good long time.”
“Of course we heard it,” Tay snapped, tugging distractedly at his beard. “Short of going up to ask who it was, there was nothing else to do.”
“I think you ought to have an evacuation plan or something.”
“I think,” said the Elf Master, coming up to the little group, “that ve can take care of ourselfs, and perhaps you should think about the examination that is about to take place.”
With a twinge of guilt, Keith and the others followed the red-haired teacher up the tunnel to the schoolroom.
O O O
If the other Big Folk students were surprised to see Keith emerging from the little door behind the elves, they didn’t show it. If anything, most of them took it in stride as a natural occurrence, based on what they’d come to know about Keith. Keith exchanged smiles and greetings, and made his way to the desk between Holl’s and Enoch’s.
In spite of his anxieties about Hollow Tree and the attempted invasion, Keith relaxed when he read the essay questions that the Elf Master scratched on the upright slate. Though he had been too busy to study over the weekend, he found the answers forming themselves in his mind almost quicker than he could write them down. As his confidence grew, inspiration took over, and he wrote faster. Even with the greater part of his mind involved with the test, he was aware of how the clarity of the teaching affected the amount of information he was able to retain. Holl was right: a smaller class gave the students an advantage in learning.
The Master promised to evaluate their papers right away. Keith felt smug. After this test, Freleng’s final would be no big deal.
O O O
Thursday afternoon, he sailed blithely past the librarian on duty, carrying a plastic bag which seemed to be very light for its immense size and kept trying to get away from him, and a box which he took great care to keep balanced. The woman waved away his explanations, obviously tired of hearing them, and watched him ring for the elevator.
Keith shifted from foot to foot with excitement. Even if he had blown the test completely, which he doubted, the end of such a stimulating semester was deserving of some kind of celebration. The doors finally opened, and he maneuvered the cake and his bag of helium-filled balloons and party hats inside.
O O O
The classroom looked a little bizarre with balloons floating drunkenly all over the ceiling and bumping into each other where they were tethered to the backs of chairs. Keith presented the cake to the Elf Master with a little speech he had prepared ahead of time and thoroughly rehearsed, remembering his usu
al incoherence.
“I want to express how grateful I am for being allowed to join this class. I think I’ve learned a lot more about Sociology than I thought I could. Shock does a lot for opening the mind to new experiences.” The others snickered, glancing sideways at the Master.
“It has not been one-sided,” the Master said, “but I am surprised you did not submit to me your thesis on interplanetary relations.”
“I thought about it,” Keith admitted. “Only I figured that the next time I opened a door in the library, I might find a lot of little green men and bug-eyed monsters.”
“I know of none here,” the Master assured him, over the class’s laughter.
“Well, all I have to say is thank you for drumming the subject into my head … and I’ll be happy with any grade I get—so long as it’s an A.” The rest of the class clapped and cheered. Keith bowed and sat down. The Elf Master got up, shaking his head in mock despair, and handed the papers out to the students one by one.
Beaming at the teacher, Keith took his and looked it over. “But there’s no grade on it,” he protested.
“Meester Doyle,” the Master sighed, rapping him on the head with the roll of exams. “I do not understand vhy you are trying so hard to impress me. You have demonstrated ample knowledge of your subject. If all you vish is a letter by which you can compare your attainment with that of others, then you have learned little.”
Keith turned red. Sometimes the Master reminded him of Professor Kingsfield from the Paper Chase. “I’m sorry. Maybe I should have asked what your method of grading was.” Carl and the other male students regarded him smugly.
“I vould be happy to explain. I have marked on your test papers where your theory is false, or vhere your argument fails to support your premise.”
Abashed, Keith turned his paper over, and went through the pages. “Well, you didn’t mark anything on this at all.”
“Then you demonstrated no false theories, and defended those you did propose well.”
“Oh,” Keith said in a very small voice. “I guess I got an A.”
The Master sighed, this time in exasperation. “If you must express it in that limited fashion.”
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