Chapter 42

“It’s the headmaster. Look. There he is!”

A voice sounded, and a tall man came toward Alastair and Amaryllis out of the darkness. He looked familiar. At first, Alastair couldn’t place him, then he realized it was one of the parents he’d met on the first day of school. It felt like a million years ago. He tried to imagine the man’s child—he must have met them.

“We’ve met,” the man said to his wife, a tall woman with a short blonde bob. “He was great with Edie. It’s a shame.”

Edie. Bingo!

“What’s a shame?” Alastair said, though he suspected he already knew the answer.

“We had to pull her from your school,” the man explained, his tone filled with regret. “Transferred her to Outer Banks after the holiday break. It’s been a difficult adjustment, but I think she’s finally settling in.”

“That is a shame,” Alastair agreed. “Perhaps this is a good opportunity for me to ask why you felt the need to do that?”

“You know why, Headmaster Meade. No one blames you. We thought you were great—still do. But the city’s just not safe for our little girl anymore. It’s hard enough for us living here. Better to have her at Outer Banks where we know she’ll be safe.”

Alastair scrunched his face and nodded. “Whatever you feel is right. She’s your daughter.”

“It is not alright,” Amaryllis said.

Alastair gave her a look.

“No, Alastair, this must be said.” She took a step toward the couple. “You have chosen to reduce your child’s education to Outer Banks…” she said the name like it tasted like spoiled milk, “…instead of the finest institution for learning in our country. Because you’re afraid?”

Alastair was mortified, and watched in horror as the couple showed visible anger.

“How dare you,” the woman said. She nudged her husband and nodded toward the street behind them. “Let’s get going, Charles.”

When Amaryllis wasn’t looking, Alastair mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

“Right. Right. Well, thank you for all you do,” Charles said. “Sorry it didn’t work out better.”

“For you,” Amaryllis said, and the couple moved off into the night. “The nerve.” She addressed Alastair now, “Those people are cowards.”

“I don’t know,” he said with doleful eyes. “They’re allowed to think what they want. It is dangerous here in the city. Maybe.”

“They’re cowards,” she said again more firmly. “With no sense. Outer Banks is a fine school, but it’s not Emberstone. Nothing is.”

Fair enough.

They walked the rest of the way back to the castle in silence. The sleepy-looking porter waited to bring up the drawbridge. They’d left it down late tonight because so many would be going into the city for the holiday, but he was clearly eager to be gone.

“This was really nice,” Amaryllis said, some of her wrath coming down to a simmer. “Thanks.”

“Even though we mostly talked about work the whole time? It wasn’t exactly—well—”

“It was perfect. Exactly what I wanted to do. We’re going to get Ozelius out, Alastair! I know it.”

“Appreciate your confidence.”

He wasn’t so sure. But if Amaryllis had that much faith they would—well, that was something, at least. Between her, Eloise, and Sebastian—neurotic as the man was—they could at least make a go of it.

“If I ever decide to go off by myself to another kingdom after being explicitly warned not to,” he said, “I hope someone will remind me of all this.”

Amaryllis’ eyes were dark and owlish behind her gold glasses. “Don’t worry. I will. Oh, and thanks for the necklace. I love…” she hesitated a long moment before saying, “…it. Goodnight, Alastair.”

They parted ways, and he watched her go, his head light and swimming. Finally, a giant smile reached his face, and he headed back to his quarters. The last students were returning to the castle now and all seemed on cloud nine. He’d never been a Valentine’s Day kind of person—never been a holiday person at all, to be honest—but he’d had more fun than he’d expected.

Holidays: not so bad after all.

* * *

The next weeks passed like a breeze. He did a second round of course observations to see how students and teachers were settling in. Eloise was first.

“Welcome back, Headmaster Meade,” she said when he popped his head in the classroom. “Good to see you again. Today, we’re doing a pair of nature spirits: a dryad and a naiad. Be warned, they’ll hate each other.”

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The students took anxious notes.

“What do we do if two nature spirits hate each other, Headmaster?” Eloise said, giving him a wry grin.

He held up his hands. “Don’t look at me. I’m just here observing. I’m not even here.”

Onyx, his eighth-year Primordium student, raised a hand. “I think you probably want to keep them apart. Separate casting circles, maybe?”

“Bravo! Separate casting circles with an extra spell of warding written into the chalk line. Doesn’t need to be completely impenetrable—they’re not going to kill one another, nor will they typically go after the caster. They just don’t get along—but you’ll want that extra barrier.”

Eloise demonstrated the spell, Summoning her dryad and naiad. As expected, they snarled when they saw each other but were otherwise well behaved. She then let the students take their turn. Once satisfied their casting circles were solid, Eloise took up a spot against the wall beside Alastair.

“Did I pass?” she asked, nudging his side.

“Flying colors. Good lesson. And it’s not a test. I’m just—”

“I know, I know. Trying to get to know the school. Sebastian and I talked about it at length after last time.”

“Good,” Alastair said, remembering Sebastian’s freakout earlier in the year. “Speaking of…”

She gave him a look. “Ally, everyone knows about that. You really just figured it out?”

“Oh. But you said—”

“Oblivious!” she crowed. “Now, if you’ve seen enough, move on to your next class. You’re making me nervous hovering like this.”

As luck would have it, Sebastian was next—and to Alastair’s relief, he was friendlier this time.

“Hey, Meade. We’re turning rocks into emeralds today. Come watch.”