Chapter 36

George and Caliban stayed put. And though they hadn’t snuck out again, to Alastair’s relief, they continued their friendship. Time and time again, he spotted them in the dining hall with their heads bent together over a sheet of parchment, clearly plotting something. He chose to believe it was innocuous enough. After all, how many times had he and Brendan found something harmless to obsess over? It was best not to question a good thing, at least for now.

Meanwhile, in the scraps of spare time he could grab, he kept searching the school’s records for anything on dwarven warding. Some of Montgomery’s research on the ancient ways of dwarven seers and practitioners helped. Many of their most common spells were old and arcane—tricky but far from impossible to break if one worked creatively.

This would be a good class for a future year, actually: non-human forms of magic, the thought processes and methods of other creatures in organizing their castings. It wasn’t entirely surprising that Emberstone didn’t already have a course on that, but it was a major gap in the school’s curriculum. How could anyone treat with the dwarves—or any magical creature for that matter—without, first, understanding them? He’d suggest it to—well, to someone. Headmaster Ozelius when he returned. Or perhaps he’d whet the school’s appetite by running it by Eloise or Ms. Snapdragon in the coming weeks.

On an icy weekend morning in late January, Quicksilver was late to their daily meeting. When, finally, he showed up, he looked a little thrown.

“What’s going on?” Alastair said uneasily. The elemental was not his typically cool and collected self.

“I have some… visitors for you, sir. They arrived last night. Sorry, it was late enough that I did not wish to disturb you. Despite their excitement, it did not seem like an emergency.”

“Okay?”

Visitors?

“Should I show them in, sir?”

“Who… are they?”

“A small collection of students,” Quicksilver said. “They say they hail from your old school and wanted to ‘see what you were up to.’ I believe they were quite proud of their efforts in surprising you.”

“What!”

“A small collection of students,” he started to say again, Alastair already on his feet.

“No, no. I heard you. Wow! This is splendid. Glimmerglass came all the way down here to visit! Where are they staying? Did they eat last night? Did they have breakfast? Tea? Do they need anything?”

“Of course they ate,” Quicksilver said stiffly, as if offended Alastair could even imply that he and his staff hadn’t taken the utmost care with the visitors. “They partook of the same meals as the other students. Whoever they may be, they are our guests. We at Emberstone believe in good hospitality.”

“Right, right. Of course, Quicksilver. I didn’t mean to insult you. I just—all the way from Glimmerglass. Can you believe it?”

“Shall I let them in then, sir?”

“Absolutely!”

Alastair sat at his desk and folded his hands, trying to appear serious and competent.

“You wrecks ain’t a part of Emberstone!” the gargoyle knocker shouted as the door flew open.

Alastair’s former students were split in their reactions. Some were laughing at the charmed door knocker, while others appeared out of sorts and frightened.

“That’s enough of that,” Alastair said calmly.

“But, fake headmaster, these intruders—”

“Are my guests!” Alastair bellowed as he rose from his desk, a show of his authority.

He had to admit, it was mostly bravado meant to impress his Glimmerglass students, but it worked. Those who looked scared were now at ease.

“Headmaster Meade!” they chorused.

“What a pleasant surprise!” Alastair rushed toward them. “Sit down, sit down. Tea?”

He magicked up another set of chairs for them, cast a quick charm to stoke up the fire, and summoned a tea tray for good measure. The students ducked as it careened over their heads and landed on the table with a clatter.

A little too enthusiastic, maybe.

Quicksilver was already on hand with a steaming pot.

“What brings you all down here?” Alastair asked as the elemental poured their tea. “That’s half a day’s journey!”

“We wanted to see you,” said Bartholomew Tate, now a seventh-year. He knew the boy well—had taught him throughout his entire Glimmerglass career. “We liked your photos and wanted to see what Emberstone was really like.”

Alastair laughed. “I guess I just assumed you’d forget about me in time.”

They looked horrified. “Headmaster Meade! We’d never forget you.”

“Yeah,” said Gloria Sun, a little third-year with a squeaky voice. “We talk about you all the time! Everyone’s doing a great job at Glimmerglass. No reason to worry. But we miss having you around.”

“Remember the time you helped us get that baby bird back into its nest?” Bartholomew asked.

“Or when you showed us how to build a bonfire?” Gloria added.

“Told us all about plants?” a third said, a sixth-year named Joff Chambers but went by the nickname Shimmy.

“Busted into Ms. Lovett’s classroom for Prank Day?” This was voiced by the fourth and final visitor, Robyn Helix. She’d be in her seventh year now. Just ready to graduate. Robyn had always been Alastair’s favorite pupil. Bright, cheery, and smart as a whip.

He laughed. “Yeah, I remember all of that. I miss you guys too.”

“You look tired,” Gloria said, taking a big sip of her tea. “Like, really tired. Isn’t it just after break?”

Alastair sighed, looking down at the thick stack of papers on his desk. “Yeah. I am tired. Emberstone’s a wee different from Glimmerglass. Not bad, just different.”

“So can we see it?” Bartholomew Tate asked, draining his cup.

“Yeah!” Gloria said. “Give us the full tour!”

Robyn and Joff chorused their excitement, and he glanced at the clock. Did he have time to give them a tour right now? He had a lot of work to—

No. That was Emberstone thinking. That wasn’t him. He always had time for his former students—they were good kids and they’d come all this way. Probably paid the train fare themselves. They deserved to see where he’d been working for the past four or five months.

“All right,” he said, standing and flattening his robes. “Had enough tea, all? Ready to see the school?”

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The students dropped their teacups on the tray—some still half-full—and rose. “Let’s go!”

They passed by the gargoyle who looked like someone had spit in his oats, then breezed by Quicksilver on the stairs down. The elemental bowed low, looking a little anxious. “All well, sir?”

“All well.”

The students kept up a running commentary as they walked through the hallways, telling him what had been happening at Glimmerglass in his absence. There were a few new classes—mostly on Nature Magic—and there was talk of hiring a new teacher to cover them. They’d had a winter dance, just before break, and it had gone well. Though by the sounds of things, it hadn’t been quite as lavish as Emberstone’s.

“We had a dance class,” Gloria shouted. “The day before the dance. We all learned how to do the waltz and even the polka!”

“You mean the half-step,” Alastair said, surprising himself. Perhaps he’d retained more memory of dance than he’d thought. “Polka is the kind of music you half-step to.”

“Yeah, that!” Gloria said.

“They magicked the Yule tree so it got up and danced with us,” Joff added. “The ornaments almost fell off, but it was really cool!”

Hm. That’s a good idea, actually.

Maybe there was a way to suggest it to Ms. Snapdragon for next year—if Emberstone’s giant Yule tree wasn’t too large to manage it.

“Ms. Lovett and Mr. Todd danced together,” Robyn said with a snicker. “It was so cute. And then they split a slice of cake.”

“Sounds like a smashing success,” Alastair said, imagining the two elderly teachers trying to waltz. “I bet they were happy about all of that. Hey, here’s a group of Emberstone students.”

A gaggle of Primordium third and fourth-years, led by Rachel and George Redding, were coming toward them, chatting excitedly about their Valentine’s Day plans. They stopped and regarded the Glimmerglass group with clear interest.

“Who’s this?” Rachel asked Alastair. “Prospectives?”

“Emberstone, meet Glimmerglass!” Alastair said with a flourish. “They’re here to visit for the weekend, so I’m showing them the sights.”

Rachel and George eagerly rushed forward.

“Like, from the forest?” Rachel asked. “What’s it like there? Is it cold? Is it pretty? Are you learning the same things we are? How’s your Scrying?”

The Glimmerglass students seemed a little overwhelmed by the attention. Alastair understood. As he’d often noted, Emberstone students could be a passionate brood.

“One question at a time,” he said.

George said, “First then. Is Glimmerglass actually in the forest?”