Chapter 50

“Quills out. Books away.”

Sebastian’s third-year Alchemy class did as he said, and the room was a flurry of movement as they all got set up for their exam. Meanwhile, Mr. Shelley walked slowly down the rows of desks, dropping a blue-lined booklet on each one. Alastair, just there to observe, felt a familiar rush of anxiety when he saw them. They were exactly the same as they’d been when he was a student and, for an instant, he felt that he too was back in third-year.

Once everyone had a test, Sebastian returned to the front of the room and held up a large hourglass.

“I’ll turn this over and set it down,” he said. “Once it hits the table, you can begin. Not before, Mr. Pattee! When the sand runs out, that’s time. Quills down. No exceptions.”

He gave Judah Pattee a harsh look, then turned the hourglass upside down. Dramatically, he set it down on his desk with a thud. The students ripped their exam booklets open and started writing. Meanwhile, Sebastian sat back in his chair nonchalantly and stared at the timer.

He hadn’t been lying to Eloise.

“Not a hard exam to run, is it?” Alastair said, approaching the front of the room.

Sebastian shrugged. “I told you. The hard part’s writing it. After that, it’s smooth sailing.” He drifted a flat hand in front of his face.

“I’m trying to get a sense,” Alastair said, lowering his voice so the students couldn’t hear him, “of how our faculty is doing. Whether there’s anything the school can do to be more supportive.”

Sebastian looked scandalized. “Is now really the best time to talk about this?”

Alastair looked around at the neat rows of students scribbling in their exam booklets. “Well… I guess not?”

“I’m fine. We’re all good. No need to worry.”

For someone who had nothing to do but sit and wait, Sebastian seemed a little on edge—then again, he always acted that way.

Alastair held up his hands placatingly. “If you ever need anything—”

Sebastian glared at him, and he gave up.

“Alright, alright. Well, Mr. Shelley, your students seem like they’re doing well enough. I’ll just, uh, move on to the next exam.”

“They’ll start trying to actually transmute things in the second half of the test—but if you’re bored, go to Eloise’s. She’s got the salamanders right now.”

“Not bored. Not at all. This is… titillating.”

“Right. Like I said, salamanders.”

Alastair nodded. He’d been slated to observe the Elementary Magic exams, but salamanders did sound more interesting.

“Tell me how it is,” Sebastian said. “It was my idea, you know.”

“I remember.”

Alastair left the rows of anxious students behind and headed to Eloise’s Summoning classroom. The scene when he arrived was sheer pandemonium. One of the students hadn’t warded their circle properly and a salamander escaped. It wasn’t moving very fast—salamanders didn’t tend to—but it was burning white, too hot to touch, and it was setting everything it passed on fire. Most of Eloise’s class had left their warding circles—obedient salamanders still inside—and were working as a fire brigade, dousing the flames with Water and Earth Elemental Magic as the loose salamander scurried around the room.

“Well, it’s a lot more interesting than the Alchemy exams,” Alastair said loudly over the tumult.

“Stop it!” Eloise said, looking mortified. “This is ridiculous. I don’t know how I’m going to grade this test.”

Alastair glanced at the warding circles. “Well, it seems like most of them got it. You could give the ones helping to quench the fires extra credit or something. They seem to be getting things under control.”

“I should step in, right?”

The salamander brushed past a set of long velvet curtains. They immediately burst into flames, causing several students to rush forward and put out the fire.

“Yeah, probably. They’re doing a pretty good job.”

Eloise finally intervened, motioning the students to step back. With a flourish of her wand—“Exstinguetur!”—she put out the last of the smoking flames threatening the curtains. They were blackened and charred to the point there was nothing left to work with. There could be no magically restoring anything so utterly damaged—a total loss for the school. Quicksilver would have to replace them later. But at least the school hadn’t burned down with it.

Stepping forward with a piece of chalk, Eloise drew a rough circle around the loose salamander. It came to a forced stop, looking befuddled. The fire on its back, contained by the ward, cooled down to a dull red smolder.

“Okay, buddy,” she said. “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.”

It reared up on its hind legs, wobbling a little as Eloise cast a Banishing spell.

“Proiecticius!”

It settled down, shook its head irritably, and vanished.

“D—did I fail?” asked the student who’d presumably let it loose. He was a bushy-haired third-year—small for his age—with thick glasses and buck teeth. His robes were too big for his tiny frame and his sleeves were several inches too long.

“You got the thing up here,” Eloise said. “So you didn’t fail. But I can’t give full marks, obviously. Let me think on it—pay attention to your warding next time. You were lucky it was just a salamander and not something out for blood, Seth.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Seth looked mortified, skin white with horror.

The rest of the students followed Eloise’s example and banished their salamanders, scrubbed their warding circles off the floor, and handed in their exam booklets. Eloise collected them graciously, but Alastair could tell she was holding back laughter. Once the last third-year was out the door, she lost it.

“I’ve never seen a salamander do so much damage!” she said, cracking up. “Just by walking around! Did you see those curtains go up?”

“I did,” Alastair said, lips downturned into a frown. “I was here. Funny or not, we’re going to have to replace them.”

“Oh, come on, Ally. They’re just curtains. A bit of fabric. Quicksilver probably has some lying around. Pastels for spring!”

“I hope you’re right.”

Eloise plopped down in her desk chair as if she’d just run a marathon. “That was the most exciting exam I’ve had in a while.”

“That’s a word for it.”

“Where’re you off to next?”

“Elementary, I think,” Alastair said, pulling a sheet of parchment from his robes. “Yes. I was going to go there now but had to see the salamanders.” Then he added, “It was Sebastian’s idea.”

“Well, you got a show, at least. Elementary’ll be boring. Drills, drills, drills. Move the pebble, crush it, make it fly.”

His first two years at Emberstone, learning the building blocks of magic, had been among the dullest of his life. There was no other way to learn basic magic—students just had to drill the spells over and over until they became almost automatic. The classes were as tedious to watch as they were to experience.

“Don’t remind me. At least it’ll be more exciting than Alchemy.”

“Have fun,” Eloise said.

* * *

Mr. Banner gave Alastair a warm welcome to the classroom as the anxious-looking first-years unpacked their bags.

“Headmaster Meade! Welcome! Now, kiddos. You make believe the headmaster isn’t even here, understand?”

“Yes, Mr. Banner,” they all said in unison.

“We usually try to keep it friendly,” Mr. Banner whispered. “This is the first exam season for them, and they’re all just so young. Plus, this year’s been a hard one for everyone. I’m sure you can imagine.”

Alastair thought back to the gaggle of first and second-years who’d come to Primordium to learn Shielding. “It sure has.”