Chapter 34

“What did you get for Yule, Rachel?” George Redding asked from his spot lounging on the couch. “I got… bo—”

“A surfboard!” she chirped before he could finish his sentence. The others sat up in interest.

“Really?” Euless, one of the fourth-years said, eyes wide.

“Yep. And none of you actually came to visit me on the Yule break like you said you would, so you missed out on all the fun. Next time, you should come.”

Many third and fourth-years seemed to be seriously considering this. Meanwhile, Alastair sat at one corner of the now-huge Primordium dining table—no one had ever magicked it back after he’d extended it for the Aurum dinner—trying to figure out how to phrase some of the letters to parents he needed to write. He’d been going stir-crazy in his office, and come down for a change of scenery, but the students’ prattling was distracting.

Dear Mr. Pack,

I understand your concerns…

He groaned and the students all looked at him, perplexed. He knew he wasn’t going to have much success luring parents back to the school if they were dead set on leaving. He at least needed to try.

I understand your concerns completely. Student safety is very important to us, and I can assure you that Emberstone is safe. We’ve augmented the wards…

This was pointless. How was he to convince parents of the safety of Emberstone if they couldn’t see it with their own eyes?

At least Marcus Gold hadn’t written in. Strangely, the man seemed content with how things were—or if he wasn’t, he hadn’t said anything… yet.

Of course, that didn’t mean all was well. If there was one thing Alastair had learned since coming to Emberstone, it was that a variety of cauldrons could be churning behind the scenes.

“What did you get for Yule, Headmaster Meade?” George said. “Anything good?”

“I know,” Rachel said merrily. “He got that Scrying workbook from Ms. Shadow.”

Alastair paid Rachel no mind, focusing hard on the letter. In the end, it didn’t matter, her knowledge of his gift had pulled him away.

How did everyone know about this?

“The one we’re using?” George said with interest. “Headmaster, you’re bad at Scrying!”

“I bet he’s getting better!” Rachel said. “With Amaryllis’ help!”

“That’s Ms. Shadow,” Alastair said, finally looking up. He folded the letter, even though it was only half-done, and stuffed it in an envelope. “Okay! I’m off for the night! Hope you had a pleasant Yule, everyone! Have a good first week of term!”

Of course he had Ms. Shadow’s book in his bag. He flipped his satchel closed so the students couldn’t see it as he rushed out the door.

She hadn’t followed up about their planned dinner, and Alastair wondered how long he should wait before doing so himself. A week, maybe? Ms. Shadow would be busy with the start of term, settling in. Besides, waiting would give him more time to progress in his lessons from her book. Perhaps then, he could think of some insightful questions to ask her.

When he got back to his office, he tried once more to focus on his letters, but they refused to hold his attention. They were just the same thing over and over again: “We understand your concerns”; “We’d like to reassure you”, “Emberstone is safe and we’d welcome you back.” It all felt like empty platitudes. The parents would do what they wanted, no matter how many thoughtful words he scribbled.

He gritted his teeth and got through the pile, leaving them in a stack on his desk for Quicksilver to mail in the morning. It was all part of his job as headmaster, and it was his duty to suffer through it.

Next morning, he woke early, ready to start the day. There was a hush in the air and snow was falling heavily outside, covering the gardens and the city rooftops beyond with a thick layer of cottony white.

“What say you?” he said to Quicksilver when the elemental arrived to pick up the mail. “Should I declare it a snow day?”

This was an Emberstone tradition. It didn’t really make sense—classes were all inside the castle, so students should have no issue getting from room to room—but every year, if Watermere was lucky enough to see snow, the headmaster declared one or two surprise days off from lessons.

“That is your prerogative as headmaster,” Quicksilver replied. “I stay out of it. But please do let me know when you have arrived at a decision.”

Alastair pretended to mull it over, having already made up his mind. This was the best opportunity they were likely to have—and it looked like it was turning into a full-on winter storm.

“Snow day it is!” he declared brightly.

Quicksilver bowed. “I will make the announcement when I return from the post office.”

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Sylvester Ozelius had always dressed in a themed white robe on Emberstone snow days, but Alastair didn’t have one, and it felt odd wearing the headmaster’s clothes, so he just dressed normally.

The students all cheered him when he descended the headmaster’s staircase into the Main Hall for breakfast—those that were there, at any rate. He remembered snow days from his youth. Half of Primordium usually rolled over and gone back to sleep as soon as they were announced. Not Alastair. He’d always made a habit of suffering the cold as long as he could in the Natural Gardens.

He scarfed down a quick bowl of cream of wheat and watched the snow dither down through the windows.

“Do we have strengthening wards on the tower rooftops?” he muttered to Eloise. “This is a lot of snow.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Ally, don’t worry. I can go strengthen them more after this though. Since I don’t have class!”

She crowed gleefully and poured a third cup of coffee.

“What are you doing today?” he asked. If it kept coming down like this, not much in town would be open.

Eloise ignored the question and gave her own unsolicited thoughts, “Maybe you should ask what Amaryllis is doing today.”

“Stop it.”

“She’s just over there—”

“Stop it,” Alastair said. “Seriously. Just don’t.”

“Fine, fine. But see if she wants to get dinner.”

“Stop meddling,” he said, though the thought had occurred to him. There wasn’t much else to do unless he wanted to use the time to catch up on paperwork. He dawdled over coffee, chatting with Eloise, until he saw Ms. Shadow get up. Then, making sure to avoid eye contact with Eloise, he said, “Excuse me,” and followed her out.

Once they were safely in the hallway and out of sight of the students, he called, “Ms. Shadow!”

She turned, a bit frightened looking. “Yes?”

“Sorry,” he said lamely. “Snow day.”