Chapter 54

“I think we need to do a surgical strike,” one of the Rock brothers said. “Find that house, dive in, and extract the headmaster. Anything else is just a waste of our time.”

They were in the middle of their regular faculty meeting, and it wasn’t going well. The twins were on a rampage. They’d spent half the meeting insisting that Alastair was doing a terrible job, that Ozelius could have been rescued months ago if they’d known about it.

He felt like telling them they’d know about it if they hadn’t spent most of the year avoiding him and skipping staff meetings.

The other twin bellowed, “It’s not acceptable!” After almost a year, Alastair still couldn’t keep them straight.

“I understand,” he said. “You’re completely right.”

“Bloody right we’re right!”

“Hey!” Eloise shouted, standing up. She looked angrier than he’d ever seen her. “Don’t speak to our headmaster that way.”

“He’s not our headmaster. He’s just filling in. Our real headmaster is trapped in a dungeon somewhere in the city while this—this interim interloper is sitting in his office putting off trying to get him back.”

“He’s not an interloper! He was invited to come here! He’s done a great job!”

“And he’s not been putting anything off,” Amaryllis added. “I’ve been working hard to find Ozelius.”

“Easy,” Alastair said, trying to gesture to them to sit back down. “It’s okay. They’re allowed to say what they think. That’s part of the point of these meetings.”

“Something they’d have known if they’d bothered to show up to any of them,” Amaryllis muttered.

“Please, both of you, sit.”

They both “Harrumphed,” but obeyed.

Alastair looked around the table. “Alright. The twins have said their piece. Let’s let some others have a turn.”

“Don’t cut us off—”

“If you have anything more to add,” Alastair said firmly, “you can do it after someone else has had their chance to speak. Anyone else?”

The twins grumbled but didn’t object. There was a long moment of silence before Mr. Banner spoke up, “I have something to say. Have we forgotten all about Montgomery? He might not have been the easiest person to work with, but does he deserve to be forgotten about? Abandoned in a dwarven prison?”

“We haven’t forgotten about him,” Eloise said. “But there’s nothing we can do about that right now. Not until summer, likely. When the northern ice thaws. We can’t spare anyone to go up there and get him. The government won’t get involved in magical affairs. And unlike Ozelius, Monty walked into that situation all on his own, knowing the dangers up front. At least Ozelius is in town where we can find him.”

“You haven’t found him,” one of the twins said. “Not even close. He’s suffering while you play detective and—”

“We’re not ‘playing detective’!” Eloise shouted, standing again.

Here we go again. This is getting tiresome.

“Enough,” Alastair said wearily. “Stop fighting. Seriously. It’s not helping. Listen, perhaps the Rock twins are right.”

“Huh?” both twins said.

“Maybe it’s time we start looking for Ozelius the old-fashioned way.”

Amaryllis gave him a hurt look.

Alastair refused to make eye contact with her. He’d explain later. “And I’d like you two to take charge,” he told the twins.

“Us?” one said.

“What’s the matter, Dwayne, too much responsibility?” Sebastian said.

“No,” the one Alastair now knew was Dwayne said, shaking his head. “You’ll see. We’re going to find him straight away, right, Vin?”

Vin nodded. “Bloody right.”

“Sir,” Quicksilver stepped forward. “I have something to present.”

The room fell silent again—this time out of shock. The elemental never showed up at faculty meetings, and usually didn’t spend much time talking to any teachers other than the headmaster or Ms. Snapdragon. For him to even be present meant that whatever he had to say was important.

“Go for it,” Alastair said. “I mean—show us what you’d like to, if you’re comfortable.”

Silently, Quicksilver weaved his way through the faculty to the head of the room, carrying a thick stack of papers under his arm.

“This is the school’s budget,” he said solemnly, holding up the top paper. He stuck it to the wall with a quick Adhesion charm.

“We’ve got two missing teachers, and you want to discuss money?” twin number one said.

Quicksilver ignored him. “You can see here—” he magnified a small box on the left side of the paper, “—last year’s budget. Simple enough. Here is our income. Donations, tuition—most of it tuition—a random assortment of other things like royalties from things the school holds patents for. Expenses here. You can see they are nearly in balance.”

“We know how a budget works,” twin two said so scornfully that Alastair gave him a hard look. Quicksilver contributed a lot to Emberstone and didn’t deserve to be spoken to that way.

“That is good,” the elemental said, pushing forward. “I will not have to dumb it down for you, then. You will understand what you are looking at on this page, then.”

He slapped a second sheet of paper on top of the first and turned his attention to the twins, clearly waiting for them to respond.

“It’s this year’s budget,” one of them said finally. “It, uh, don’t look good.”

“I cannot speak to whether it is ‘good’ or not,” Quicksilver said tersely. “What I can say is that—as I told the interim headmaster the other night—we have lost almost half our income. With a school this size, that is substantial. And our expenses have not only stayed the same, but with the addition of new classes, they have risen. Faculty, student resources, supplies. Money in versus money out—it is entirely out of alignment.”

Stolen novel; please report.

“Thanks for showing us this,” Alastair said, swallowing hard. “None of this is a surprise, of course. We knew it was coming. But just the same—we’re in kind of a jam, aren’t we?”

Quicksilver gave him a blank look.

“Figure of speech,” Alastair said. “Sorry. We’re in trouble. How would you recommend we get out of it?”

“Find Ozelius,” one of the twins said.

“Enough,” Sebastian said. “Stop acting like Ozelius is a god. Don’t forget that time you told me a rock could outperform him.”

The twin turned bright red, crossed his arms, and sank into his chair.

“Quicksilver?” Alastair said, returning the floor to the elemental.

“Cut expenses,” was the blunt answer. “Until revenue gets back on track. Otherwise, you are risking shutting down the school. This is serious, sir. I had hoped things would course-correct after the fall, but they have not. And I expect we might see another drop in enrollment for next year.”

“The school’s already only two-thirds full,” Ms. Snapdragon said with dread in her voice.

“No one is more aware of that than I, ma’am. I am simply the messenger. This is what I know to be true. And I—I wish I had better news to deliver.”

Alastair looked at the grim faces seated around the table, then nodded to Quicksilver. “We’re in dire straits. I hear that. You say we need to cut expenses. What exactly would you recommend?”

The elemental wrung his hands. “You will not like it, sir.”

“I don’t like any of this. What do you recommend?”

Quicksilver cleared his throat. “Well, for starters, you can cut faculty and staff—”