Page 15 of A Door in the Dark

After seeing Timmons safely home, Ren had spent the rest of the night pacing in her dorm room. The public waxways were closed for the holiday, and Balmerick’s private port station—the one Ren normally took to get home—wouldn’t be active until later that morning. There was no way for her to go down to the Lower Quarter and check on what damage Brood had done.

Now she crossed the pristine lawns at the heart of campus, not bothering with the stone walkways. It had taken her two years at Balmerick to learn that the morning dew speckling the quad was enchanted. It couldn’t soak her socks because the guiding charm was aesthetic, not functional. All the weather in the Heights filtered through protective spells. If it ever rained on the finely cloaked shoulders of Balmerick students, it was only because the headmasters had seen fit to allow it.

Ren wished she had an exam to study for. Anything to keep her mind preoccupied. Normally, she’d walk straight to the library at this hour. Instead she joined a small crowd at the heart of the quad. There was a brass box there where the morning paper was always delivered. A shipment of the Kathorian had already appeared. She took her place in line and spent a mid to get her own copy.

The disastrous story was front and center.

Ren found a bench near the library to read the article. There was no mention of Theo Brood at all. At least fifty witnesses had watched him enchant the seventeen-string out over the edge of the villa’s raised magical barriers. She couldn’t imagine that the journalist who wrote the article had failed to discover the guilty party. That thought had Ren seething. It was not the first time the Broods had spent money to avoid scandal. In fact, the Heights were barely mentioned, as if an instrument might have fallen out of a passing cloud. No one had died.

At least according to this article, which Ren did not fully trust. It did claim the seventeen-string had fallen through the roof of a teahouse. Twelve were injured. Two in critical condition. The article spun a fine focus on the response times of the local hospital. It also cast doubts on the infrastructure of the building, as if the roof should have been able to withstand a wooden meteor being cast down from the heavens. Ren felt sick to her stomach as she finished reading the article. She was tempted to write “Theo Brood is guilty” all along the stone walkways of the school.

Instead she stowed the paper inside her satchel. Ever the dutiful student, Ren went to check her schedule outside the library. The master itinerary towered on the wall there. A black backdrop with gold-framed letters. Students were already gathered, hoping to see their final classes cancelled and confirmation of break starting early. The names of professors ran down the left side of the board. The next column listed their classes, and a final column displayed updates. Cancellations, homework, meeting venues, and more.

As Ren eyed the board, the names rearranged. Her current professors all rotated up to the very top. The relevant classes swung into waiting slots. It was a lovely version of a reflection spell. Every student standing there would see a different arrangement, based on their schedules. Three of Ren’s courses were cancelled, each with minor notes about what to study from the professor. She scribbled down the assignments before letting out an involuntary groan at her fourth and final class.

Agora – Magical Ethics – Normal hours.

The update was written in her professor’s handwriting. A binding spell linked his personal chalkboard with the section visible on the itinerary board. The spell had been modified slightly a few years back when a group of unruly students edited one entry to suggest that one of their professors was part kobold. Ren wished she could alter Agora’s update. She’d spent too long garnering perfect attendance to ruin it by skipping a class, but the last place she wanted to be was in a room discussing the moral failings of her peers.

As other students checked their schedules, Ren heard the tale from last night sliding in and out of their whispered conversations.

“Did you hear…”

“… lucky it didn’t.”

“… no harm done, really.”

She knew the whole day would be like that. Most of Balmerick would smirk at the idea of Theo Brood’s party foul. There’d be no consideration for those he’d nearly killed. Knowing she didn’t have it in her to skip class—and knowing Timmons wouldn’t wake up for the first scheduled waxway portal anyway—Ren headed inside the library.

She spent the next few hours reading the same paragraphs over and over, retaining nothing. Outside there was a departure happening. One wyvern had been summoned. Chariots were turning in slow loops overhead until someone flagged one down for a ride. Ren watched their spinning wheels catch the sun’s early rays before vanishing over the shoulders of Balmerick’s dark buildings.

It was a mercy when the hour arrived for class to begin.

She took her customary seat. Agora wasn’t whistling this morning. He set out the teas quietly, distracted. Their class was far from full when he began. Percie and a number of others had elected to skip. Only eight students were present.

“All right. Our final session before break.”

He circled, handing out materials as he went. Ren tried to hide her annoyance as he set down a sketch pad with some coloring sticks in front of her. These were the materials she’d have been given to pass the time back in primary school.

“Today we have a very simple assignment. Not to mention freshly relevant.”

Ren’s stomach tightened. There was a surprising amount of bite in Agora’s tone.

“Draw me a monster.”

Clyde Winters muttered under his breath. Mat Tully rolled his bloodshot eyes. Ren shifted uncomfortably. One face came to mind. Could she just draw his portrait and be done with it?

“Get creative,” Agora said. “Surely, you’ve read a book or two. Maybe taken a taxonomy class? Or walked through the art exhibits over in Quarry Hall? Go on. Draw me a monster.”

Ren flipped to a blank page. The coloring sticks made the task feel childish. She considered a number of starting points. A clawed creature with Theo Brood’s face. A great dragon, twist-toothed and scaled. Eventually she set to work on something imagined. An animal with curling horns, sharp fangs, and claws like shadowed blades. She deliberately colored its fur the closest approximation to Theo’s golden curls that she could find in her set. It was satisfying to sneak in that cheap shot, even if no one else would make the connection.

Ren stole glances at the others but couldn’t tell if they were taking the task seriously or just trying to look busy. Her animal ended up more lopsided than scary. But Ren kept working. She took her time coloring each scale, shading the claws. Every head was studiously down. She traced back over the edges of her monster until Agora set down his tea and walked to the center circle.

“Let’s see them.”

Everyone held up their drawings. It was a wide range of artistic talents and results. Mat Tully’s picture looked like a blob with eyes. Clyde Winters surprised her with a neatly drawn hawk, wings spread as it swept down for a kill. He would be classically trained in sketch work.

The rest were a mixture of claws and twisted visages. Several had gone with humanlike creatures from myth. Ren waited for Agora to explain why they were all still here, drawing sketches, while most of the school had departed for break.

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