Verona

Alexander Belanger addressed the crowd.

“Thank you for coming.  I know it’s a long trip for some, and a dangerous trip for others.  The Blue Heron Institute holds a special place in my heart and that wouldn’t be possible without your attendance.  Returning students and visitors will recognize my colleagues, Mrs. Durocher, supplicant of the cascus wilds, and Mr. Raymond Sunshine, creator of the Atheneum Arrangement, the Black Box, and Gold Garden.”

Verona badly wanted to ask Zed what those things were, but he looked perturbed after Lucy’s comment, and she felt like talking in the middle of the speech would make things worse, not better.

“Raymond has been serving as a guest teacher for a year while pursuing other projects, but is returning this summer and fall, at the very least.  We’re glad to have him.  On the topic of guest teachers, I would like to extent my gratitude to Mr. Bristow, Electra Miraz, the Ports, the Crowes, Mr. Musser, and Ms. Lair, for agreeing to come this summer, and to anyone and everyone else who decides they can find the time.  To others too numerous to name, I would extend thanks for the loaning of books for the student library.”

Verona looked past Avery and into the crowd, until she saw Nicolette, along with a few other guys.  If Verona’s only exposure to this school was that group, she might have assumed there was a school uniform.  White shirts, black pants, nice shoes.  Some of the guys wore suit jackets.  The one standing closer to Nicolette had a bit of a belly, and held the collar of a suit jacket with the rest of it draped over his shoulder.

“Years ago, there was something on the horizon that clouded my Sight.  It recurred as an image.  A teenage boy dressed as a king, sitting in a chair with water running over him, repeating the same nonsense phrases over and over again.  If I gutted a bird and pulled out its entrails for a simple fortune telling, I could find papers in the guts, with the phrases on it.  It was… obnoxious.  I traveled from Toronto to Winnipeg, met with other Practitioners who had run into the same problem, some of your parents, as a matter of fact.  A company that managed and experimented with server architecture had rented out three floors of its building to a startup and had unwittingly played host to a group of technomancers trying to get users to engage with rituals they’d programmed.  They abandoned their work, killed by Witch Hunters or run off by Others, and their work was deleted.  As Raymond Sunshine would be sure to tell you, however, deleted does not mean gone.  Just as you can pull something out of your trash bin on your desktop, their work was still there, gradually taking form, reaching out into the rest of the servers in the building until it could become a small god.  After that, it started expanding out, until it was interfering with my Sight.”

How cool was this?  Verona almost bounced on the spot.

“I wonder if the ten year olds are following this,” Lucy murmured.

“It had taken over the building and the running of the company that managed the servers.  Within was a world of its own that would take a month to cross.  I went to deal with it, and ran into someone else who was doing the same.  A young lady who would be best described as being very interested in the most vast and uncontrolled parts of conventional practice,”  He indicated Mrs. Durocher.  “She had already contacted a colleague of hers from a previous errand, a man who was just then achieving notoriety for his first practitioner-facing website.”  He indicated Raymond Sunshine.

Verona looked back, then around.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that even the sourest faces among the adults and kids seemed to change a bit when it came to Raymond.  Softening, or focusing more.

Mrs. Durocher seemed to scare the pants off of people.  With those dark eyes with chewed up meaty things swimming in them, she scared Verona a bit.

But they seemed to respect Raymond.

“Together with Mr. Bristow and Mr. Musser, we annihilated the god, shared out its power, and we drank together that night.  For Mr. Sunshine, Mrs. Durocher, and myself, it sparked a close friendship that has lasted ever since.  One of the things I hold most important about that experience was the epiphany I had, during that night of conversation and light drinks.  It wasn’t the power that I was happiest with -and I was as power hungry as they come- but the moments I had been with other practitioners and felt purpose and felt like we were all better for those deals.  Better informed, and we all know having the right information makes us strong.  Dealing with other practitioners makes us safer, better equipped, stronger, and more capable of covering our weaknesses.  That epiphany would eventually lead to us starting the Blue Heron Institute alongside Mr. Bristow, Mr. Musser, and others.  We named it after one of the faces the god in the machine had worn.”

He made a quarter-turn, so he could better indicate the school.

“Being a practitioner means pursuing patterns and being mindful of power.  But these things together are traps.  Patterns mean we often get more out of specializing in a field than we do by diversifying.  Power… there’s only so much to go around, so we tend to covet and protect it.  Here, we’re changing those preconceptions.  Having a specialty does not mean we can’t learn about other things, too.  What you learn, the connections you make, and the way we all elevate one another is critical.  I think it may be one of the most important things we do here.  Keep that in mind, remain receptive, remain open, and be courageous, whether that’s with your bonds between one another or in your studies.”

Verona glanced over at Lucy, and saw Lucy looking at her.

“We’re welcoming seven new practitioners.  Tymon and Talos’s younger sister Jorja joins us, already an adept caller of a greater Urban spirit.  She should be recognizable or even familiar to those of you who attended guest lectures with their mother.  Dom, as anyone familiar with the Driscoll family knows, is a beginner city mage and historian, and we’re excited to see if he takes after his big sister and parents.  I’m also very pleased that a long-time colleague of mine finally has a child old enough to send to classes here.  Talia Graubard is a beginner Dollmaker.”

Verona could use that to identify Talia, who had brown hair with blonde highlights framing her face, standing beside a doll that was the same height and proportions as her.  She had her hands on the shoulders of an even younger girl, who hugged a stuffed elephant.

“Brie Callie is a friend of Zed, who many of you know is the fourth apprentice to Raymond Sunshine.  Brie played a pivotal role in handling the Devouring Song, a problem that has plagued our area for some time, and spent the last few weeks here with us, working with Mrs. Durocher, and we’re happy to have her.  Lastly, we have three new practitioners joining us, a trio of wild practitioners, Avery Kelly, Lucy Ellingson, and Verona Hayward.  Mrs. Durocher surmises they draw on some of the pre-Solomon ways of practicing.  It will be very interesting to see what they’re capable of and how they take to the classes.  We already know they played a key role in figuring out how to deal with the Devouring Song.”

Avery stood a little taller, while Lucy turned her head to search the crowd out of one corner of her eye.  Verona did them one better, and turned to face the crowd, a slight smile on her face.

“Now, down to the nitty-gritty.  Rooms have been assigned.  Talk to us before you change them.  If you’re new and unsure about how to arrange your room, consult an older student you trust.  The staff is available to meet any of your needs for food and drink, but we would ask that you please not test the staff by requesting… what was it?  The gas station food.”

“Bonky Donks,” Raymond Sunshine said, dry and unimpressed.

“Bonky Donks or anything in that department.  They struggle with the plastic wrappers and the various preservatives,” Alexander said.  “We were mystified why things were so chaotic and messy, these last few weeks.”

Some of the kids were chuckling at that.

“Make any requests for the food, drink, or any common supplies as clearly as you can by way of slips of paper delivered to the dropbox by the kitchen, or placed in the pocket of your door, ring the bell, and then wait at least two minutes.  In this case, the metaphorical watched pot won’t boil, so give them the room to work.  Also, by the request of some parents, the staff will track what you request and notify your parents, so indulge in your treats responsibly.”

“How does that work when our parents don’t know?” Avery murmured.

“I think they don’t send anything,” Lucy whispered back, “since we didn’t give them that information.”

“My dad would be so confused,” Verona whispered.

“As stated in the pamphlets we gave out, you are not to acknowledge the staff in any way.  Remain silent and neutral in all things relating to them.  Dinners will be served outdoors or indoors, as the weather and mood allows.  When indoors, you’re free to take your meals to your rooms or use the big room adjacent to the kitchen.  There are also irregular trips off the campus, for when you want something in the way of fast food or snacks, but we ask you to please let us know before you go, and spare us having to use practice to find you, or send things after you to bring you back in a timely manner.  Mr. Sunshine?”

Raymond spoke.  He was expressionless, his eyes hidden by the sunglasses he wore.  Verona liked him.  “Classes start tomorrow morning.  I’ll be leading a beginner class in practice starting at nine.  Alexander will be teaching the morning’s intermediate review class in Immaterial fundamentals, to let the students who weren’t present for the spring catch up.”

Both of those sounded necessary.

“In the afternoon, Mrs. Durocher will be teaching a class about old languages and older Others, and both Alexander and I will be keeping ourselves available, to address any student concerns for the first day.  Mrs. Graubard will be available throughout the day and evening to discuss enchantment and puppets, and she’s suggested she’s comfortable matching to beginner, intermediate, and advanced levels, as the situation requires.”

Learning enchantment from the Dollmaker it was.  Except dead languages sounded like it was probably the kind of thing foundational to being a top class practitioner.  Ugh.

Mrs. Durocher spoke, “Two dinners will be served this evening, to better suit your collective convenience and preference.  Hopefully, this keeps the dining areas from being too crowded, while still allowing those parents who wish to stay a bit longer to take some time before departing.  For an early dinner, at six o’clock, we’ve planned a pan-roasted duck with beets and watercrest, served with wedge herb potatoes, salads, and a timely Rioja Tempranillo for the adults.  The second meal offered is a Neapolitan pizza, cooked in a wood fired oven, with tomato sauce and cheeses made on the premises, served at seven thirty.”

“Please enjoy yourselves, and to our students, please enjoy the coming semester.  Do let us know if there’s anything you need or have any interest in.  Thank you.”

Some of the people present immediately went to the front, to go talk to the three main teachers.  Some of the younger kids, like Talia and Dom, went the opposite direction, over to parents.

“Are you okay with me as a guide?” Zed asked.

“For a short tour, and to help you get settled.  There’s a few quirks.”

Lucy looked at Avery and Verona.

“I think that’s fine?”

“I’ll introduce you to people when we meet them,” Zed said.  “Come on, let’s drop off your bags and get you into your rooms.  Can I carry anything?”

“I’m fine,” Lucy said, as she picked up her luggage case.

“All good,” Avery said.  She hadn’t taken the gym bag strap off her shoulder, and it sat diagonally across her chest.  Probably taking it off and handing it over would be more hassle than it was worth.

“Here,” Verona said, nudging her heaviest bag with her toe.  “Thank you.”

Zed picked it up.  “In through the front doors, then.”

He led the way, Brie at his side, and they followed.  They walked up the stairs, past the three teachers.  Verona gave them a tight smile as she walked by.  Mrs. Durocher smiled back, Alexander smiled with a pleased glimmer in his eyes, but he mostly seemed to do that because he was in his element and very much enjoying himself, and Ray’s expression was like stone.

“I expected Ray to be more sunshiney,” Avery said, as they got inside and the door closed behind them.

“He was, once.  Did the website stuff that made him ‘famous’ here as a side project.  They became the main projects.  There’s some other stuff, too, heavy life stuff.”

“I like his aesthetic,” Verona said.  Black long-sleeved shirt, black pants, red sunglasses.

“Haha.  Glad it works for you.  While we’re on that topic, I should mention, gently, that there are metaphorical and literal eyes and ears all over the place here, so if you have a tough class or a guest lecturer isn’t your favorite, you might want to get off campus before you vent about it.”

There were two sets of double doors at the front of the building, maybe to keep the draft out, and they used bristly brushes to scrape residual dirt and mud off their shoes and stuff before they walked inside.

The central room was impressive.  The ceiling was crazy high and arching, and the room deep, clearly built off an old church.  Bookshelves sectioned off parts of the room, but it looked like they could easily move.

“Central classroom.  Mornings and afternoons on days they’re teaching, there’s almost always a class going on here.  Sometimes two.  Other times, there’ll be classes outside in that main area, at the tables, or traveling elsewhere.  It can get stuffy in here.  If you’re ever doing a ritual after hours, there’s a wide open space back there for big diagrams.”

They nodded.  Verona walked to the center of the room, to get a better look at the layout and particulars.  The windows were blue but didn’t cast a blue light.  Instead, it was like it made the traces of dust and pollen in the air blue instead of brown-yellow.

“Left wing is where you’ll find Alexander’s home and study, which doubles as a principal’s office.  Mrs. Durocher and Ray have quarters there.  Think of them as the vice principals.  If you have a problem, honestly, just go to whoever you get along with best.  After you get to know them, you can start picking and choosing who to talk to based on what you want to happen.  Alexander, for example, will always prioritize the school.  Ray is probably the most compassionate and considerate of the three, but it can be hard to tell that’s the case, and to really get him to understand requires being able to speak his language.”

“Like, geek?” Lucy asked.  “I don’t mean that in a bad way, but all I know about him is he likes tech.”

“Not like that.  Um, it’s hard to explain.”

Brie stepped in, “If your feelings are hurt or you’re scared or lost or angry, I think he’s most likely to help.  But if you can’t articulate it, if you get emotional and that gets in the way of communicating, he’ll get frustrated with you really fast.”

“Something like that,” Zed said.

“Is that something that happens a lot?” Lucy asked.  “People getting that upset or angry?”

“It’s school.  We deal with messy stuff.  If one of us wants to jump in with both feet, they’ll warn us but they’ll rarely give a firm ‘no’.  So sometimes a student gets in too deep.  Just a few weeks ago, there was an issue with an Alcazar… I won’t name names.”

“Alcazar?” Verona interrupted.

“Uhh, a big ritual, turning an object or person or Other into a place you can actually wander around, explore.  A diagnostic tool, a way to handle cursed items, or cursed people, or just to figure out an item you don’t know the function of.  It can be exceptionally dangerous, obviously.  The guest teacher had every student open up an Alcazar with an item that was uniformly pleasant and safe.  One of the girls did it with a thing she received as a gift from a boy she liked, who wasn’t in that class to tell her no.  It had such pleasant associations for her, it had to be that way through and through, right?”

“What happened?” Verona breathed.

“The item was present when the boy dealt with some bad stuff.  His last girlfriend hurting the pet rabbit he got her for Easter.  A time one of his first practices got out of control and hurt innocents.  His father beat him after that.  This girl got a front row seat to all of that, freaked out, lost her footing, and became parts of the scene.  The rabbit, the father, others.  The lecturer and some older students had to go in after her, along with the boy, who was there to help them navigate.  There was a lot of fallout.”

“Should we be talking about this?” Brie asked.

“It’s going to come up.  Telling them now lets them avoid stepping on toes.  Sharing information and communicating is rarely the wrong way to go.”

“Ah, yeah.  I should’ve expected you to say that,” Brie said.

“The boy and the girl both had a hard time dealing with that.  The girl flipped out in front of Ray, at one point, and he just walked away from the conversation, texted me to say to go handle it.”

“Oh.  Wow,” Avery said.

“That was what I was thinking about, before,” Brie said.

“It’s complicated.  He’s complicated,” Zed said.  “Where was I?  The tour.”

“My head’s still spinning from that last story,” Lucy said, before adding, “metaphorically.”

“Some student quarters are down that hall.  Like mine and Brie’s.”

“Are you sharing a room?” Avery asked.

Zed’s smile gave the answer away before he said, “Yes.  We’re not the only ones doing that.  Eloise and Ulysse are engaged, and just got permission from their parents and Alexander.”

“I’ve got a room in that direction as well,” a female voice said, behind them.

Nicolette had just entered through the door.  She had a hair ornament with branches and a white leather spiderweb-type arrangement at one side of her head, and white, horn-rimmed glasses.  The guy followed behind her, and Verona couldn’t help but think of her dad.  Tall, the belly that pushed out against a white dress shirt, like her dad wore for work… even the way he held himself.  Like her dad might’ve been when he was ten years younger, maybe.

“Thanks for your cooperation the other night,” Lucy said.

“No.  I took it on as my responsibility.  It’s only fair.  I cannot believe you brought her.”

Nicolette pointed at Snowdrop with a painted fingernail.

Snowdrop raised a paw in a wave.

“We decided it was more complicated to leave her behind.”

“I’m just admiring the ovaries on you three.  Alexander was probably tickled,” Nicolette said.  “Giving them their tour?”

“In a fashion,” Zed told her.  He accepted the kiss on each cheek from Nicolette, which looked casual enough it might be a standard greeting.  “We haven’t left the main room yet.”

“Your room is toward the end of the hall,” Nicolette said.  “Alexander has a sense of humor.”

“Uhh, why?  You’re making me nervous,” Avery said.

“Come on,” Nicolette told them.

“She’s stealing your job as tour guide, Zee,” the guy said.

“It’s ‘Zee’ now, Chase?”

“I’m American, it’s how we say it.  Stop bitching,” Chase answered, shrugging as he walked off, down the left hallway.

Zed drew in a deep breath, then sighed.

“I know,” Nicolette said.  She made a face, like she was in pain.  “At least it’s not…”

“Deadnaming me anymore, yeah.  He’s still such a dick,” Zed said.

“He’s leaving after having his duck and wine, so bear with him for a little while,” Nicolette said.  “Come on, terrible trio.  Unless you want to tell me to go, if you don’t trust me.”

“It’s fine for a tour, at least,” Lucy said, wary.

They walked down the hall.

Avery ventured, “Are there any other students in the school who are, um…”

“Or gay or bi or pan or anything?” Avery asked.

“My friend Jessica,” Zed said.  “She has a girlfriend.  She spends about half her time here, and half her time at the reserve, staying with her.  Before, I was going to suggest people you could trust or befriend.  And I got stuck.  Jessica can be trusted, if you need to talk to someone you haven’t…”

“Been in a fight with?” Lucy asked.

“You can say it, I can’t,” Zed said, glancing at Nicolette.

Verona noted the art on the walls, the art pieces on pedestals, and the mounted animals on the walls.  The hallway had rooms off to either side, some with doors open, so she could see the student quarters.  Many of the rooms were barren of any furniture.  Just big, old wooden doors with brass fixtures that had paper pamphlets and things inside them, then rooms that were half stone and half wood plank for the walls.

“So this Jessica, she can be trusted, but she can’t be befriended?” Avery asked.

“Jessica has a lot on her plate.  I wouldn’t want to tell you you can be her friend, only for her to brush you off.  I’d be lying in that case.”

“She lost a cousin and the way she’s going looking for them, the loss stays fresh.  When she’s not here, she’s searching in some pretty rough places, or recuperating emotionally, taking a weekend or a week with her girlfriend,” Zed said.

Note to self, Verona thought.  Zed’s a guy who is pretty open about other people’s info.  Not someone to confide in.

“Nicolette could be a friend, because I see similarities,” Zed told them, “but I get the impression you’ve interacted before and I don’t know if you can trust her.”

Nicolette made a lips-zipped gesture.

“She messed with a major ritual I was doing and stranded me in a bad spot,” Avery said.  “There was lead-up to that, but…”

Nicolette cleared her throat.

“And follow up,” Avery said.  “Was that what you wanted to hint at?”

“Works,” Nicolette said.

“You’re quiet,” Brie told Verona.

“I’m mostly taking things in and listening.  There’s time to be annoying with questions later.”

“It’s okay if you want to ask them now.”

“If you get Verona started you might get stuck answering follow up questions until the summer ends, like Zed suggested,” Lucy said.

Verona stuck her tongue out at her friend.  “Zed called Chase a dick.”

“Yeah,” Zed said.  “Because he’s a dick.”

“We talked about something very similar before.  Say if one of us called our little brother a penis.  Is that a lie?  Is calling Chase a dick a lie?”

“Have you interacted with goblins?” Zed asked.

“You know we have,” Lucy told him.

“If I knew, I couldn’t say or hint at it,” Zed told them.

“He and Brie swore to silence about Kennet,” Verona clarified.

“Point is,” Zed told them.  “Kitchen’s here, by the way.  More on that later-”

He tapped a door with a paper on the front.

“-The point is, language is ambiguous.  Lots of words can mean different things and different words can take on new meanings as language evolves.  What the spirits tend to look for is consistency.  A goblin that swears every other word means something specific and it’s not a literal interpretation of those swears, a lot of the time.  And if you’re someone that calls people fuckers or dicks or whatever…”

“It’s okay?” Avery asked.

“Yeah.  It’s called the rule of discourse.  We make our own rules.”

They’d stopped outside a door, but the conversation continued.

“If you got called out on your little brother not actually being a dick the first time and every time thereafter, it might be a problem,” Nicolette said.  “But once it’s established, you’re clear.  There are some edge cases where a practitioner will always speak in verse, to meet certain requirements for a career, or make a daily habit of singing before doing so before a crowd, so they can establish their rule of discourse.”

“Then Snowdrop’s way of talking?” Avery asked.

“Is a rule, yes,” Zed said.  “Your room-”

“Follow up question number one incoming?” Lucy asked.

“It’s for your sake, you penis,” Verona told her friend.  “Can I ask about the deadname thing?”

“What about it?” Zed asked.  Maybe a little guarded.

“We keep running into Others that call my friend Lucille, because she used it while awakening.”

“And you changed your name?  How do you do that?” Verona asked.

“There’s a few ways,” Zed said.  “Trade it, rewrite the fabric of your being, steal a body that comes with a name, I even looked at redoing the awakening ritual, to re-introduce myself to the spirits.  The problem is that spirits hew to traditions, and they lag behind the times.”

“They don’t look favorably on divorce if you’re not careful,” Nicolette said.

“Yeah, the divorce thing.  So you can imagine how other stuff can be an uphill battle.  I discussed it with Ray, he worried I could lose half my power as a practitioner, for at least a few decades, before the spirits got used to it or I’d lived out most of my life with the new name.  We guessed I could accelerate that if I had the affirmation of people like Nicolette, Ray, Jessica, now Brie.  Mrs. Durocher, maybe Alexander…”

So we don’t trust Alexander, hmm? Verona thought.

“…But I decided on the easier road.  At least for now.  Changing my official documentation, with the school, drivers license, and everything else.  Get a proverbial ninety-nine percent of my life right and then tackle the practice side of it.  Calling myself Zed works if you read it as the first letter of my old name.  If I did the practice first, the implicit idea might be that I want the practice to handle the tweaks to the rest of my life, which would be part of the reason for the power hit.”

“There you go,” Verona told Lucy.

“Sorry it’s been a tough road there,” Lucy said, the vaguely angry-wary expression giving way to something apologetic.  “And for my friend maybe pushing on a sore spot.”

“I don’t mind,” Zed told her.  “If it helps anyone else, that’s good.”

“It’s a lot of work, to fix a recurring annoyance,” Lucy said.

“Yeah.  But hey, if you end up looking into it, and you find out anything?” Zed asked.

“I could pass it on, if we’re on good terms and it’s possible, sure.”

“It’s the scariest thing about the practice I’ve run into,” Brie said.  “That you can be locked into one bad decision you make.”

“There’s way scarier things about the practice,” Nicolette said, sounding amused.

“Like being turned into a bunny someone’s killing, in some weird dream loop?” Avery asked.

“Oh honey,” Nicolette said.  “If you were stuck in a scene like that for a thousand years, it wouldn’t come close to some of the stuff out there.”

Avery opened her mouth, then closed it.

“Your room,” Nicolette said, smiling as she turned the knob.

The door opened on its own, after she let go of the handle.  Because of its weight, not because of any practice, Verona was pretty sure.  Snowdrop clambered down Avery’s arm, then went human, unlaced shoes slapping against lacquered wooden floorboards.

“This isn’t the room I set on fire,” Snowdrop said.

“Oh hey.  The little nightmare of an opossum,” Nicolette said.  “Hi.”

“Bye,” Snowdrop said, before stepping into the room.

“Different t-shirt, huh?” Nicolette asked.

“Just about every time,” Avery answered.

“‘Snot pockets’?”

“Marsupials have pouches.  With mucus.”

“Huh.  I guess that’s better than it being dry?”

With her friends in the way, Verona couldn’t quite see.  She jabbed Avery.

Avery laughed.  Verona realized she was intentionally blocking the way.  She jabbed Avery again, aiming to tickle her a bit too, as revenge.

“It’s… spartan,” Lucy said.  “Were we supposed to bring our furniture?”

The walls were stone, up to about Verona’s shoulder.  The upper portion of the room was fancier wood paneling, lacquered.  It looked new-ish.

No bed, no desk, no dresser.  A bare room with a single lightbulb.

“This is the worst room I’ll have slept in,” Snowdrop said.

“Here,” Zed told them.  He grabbed the papers from the brass fixture on the door.  “Instructions.  After what comes next, the staff will furnish the room.  For now, just remember not to react or do anything once they do it, when you see the state of the room, after.”

“Why does this feel ominous?” Lucy asked.

“Room map, here, put your bags down,” Zed told them, putting a piece of paper on top of the stack.  He set Verona’s bag down in the middle of the room.  The piece of paper, when he held it at their level, was a blueprint that showed the room, adjacent rooms, and the hallway.  It was overlaid by a faint grid.  “You’ll want to decide on furniture.  Don’t feel beholden to it.  You can change it up.  How many beds?  Three?  Four?”

“Bunk beds?” Lucy suggested.

“Please no,” Avery said.  “Regular beds?”

“Doesn’t leave a lot of room,” Nicolette commented, from the hallway.

“I want a desk to work at,” Verona said.

“Two beds?” Lucy asked.  “I’ve crashed with Verona enough times.  She falls asleep fast and doesn’t flop around, so it doesn’t bother me.  Maybe a hammock for Snowdrop.”

“That’s cruel and unusual.  Terrible,” Snowdrop told Lucy.  “You’re awful.”

“Or she can sleep by me,” Avery said.  “Possum or human form.”

“That’s just as terrible,” Snowdrop said.

“Two beds.  Draw them on the paper.”

“Dressers?  Mini-dressers?” Verona asked.  She looked around, visualizing.  “Foot of the bed?  For stowing our stuff.”

“And a bedside table.  Shared?  Under the window, stretching between the beds?”

“You seem to have this visualized already.  Avery?  Any input?”

“I’m used to sharing with my sisters.  If I have shelf space and a flat surface all of my own that I can put stuff on, it’s better than my reality at home.”

“Shelves,” Verona scribbled, marking it out, drawing out labels.  “Desk in the corner, chairs.  Should we make it so two people can sit at the desk?  We’ll assume if all four of us are in the room, someone will be in or on the bed?  And Snowdrop won’t have a lot to do at the desk?”

“I’ll have the most to do at the desk.”

“Works,” Lucy said.  “What do we do in the meantime?”

“For right now, if you’re happy with that, put your bags in the corners you want to claim as your own.  We’ve got a bit before the first option for dinner.  I can introduce you to others around then.”

“Others as in Others or others as in-”

“Students,” Zed corrected.

Verona finished sketching out the room.  Rectangles blocked out with ‘bed’ written in the middle, with more rectangles drawn out and labeled bedside table, mini-dresser, desk, shelves, one small hammock, one mark on the wall labeled ‘painting with a fox, cat, and deer’, and loose ovals labeled as heavy curtains.  She handed it back to Zed.

Zed set the papers down in the middle of the room.  “Again, don’t make a fuss over it, when they get around to it.  Let’s move on.  Do you want a snack?  We could swing by the kitchen, order it, and pick it up on our way back.”

“We ate on the road but…” Lucy looked at Avery.

“I-” Verona started. Then Lucy said it at the same time Verona did: “-don’t eat much.”

“Figured,” Lucy added.

“Efficient metabolism, maybe,” Verona said.

Zed pointed the way, and they continued the tour.

“Maybe you’ll hit a growth spurt and be tall like your dad,” Avery suggested.

“Gross.  Please no.”

“Library,” Zed said.  It was right next door which was woohoo.  “Nina?”

The woman he’d summoned appeared at the doorway, not by teleporting or anything, but by being quick.  She held a finger to her lips.

“I need to resummon you. It won’t take long,” he said, whispering.  To the rest of them, he said,  “You guys can look over what’s available, then we’ll circle the grounds, meet some students, then see if food’s ready.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Lucy said.

“I’m-” Verona stood on her tiptoes to see past the intervening bodies.  “I’m going to run back and grab a notebook, so I can track book titles and stuff, if that’s okay?  I won’t be in the way of the… what are they called?”

“Brownies.  Or staff.  There’s a kitchen crew and a grounds crew.  Be careful with the grounds crew.  Be afraid of the kitchen crew.”

“W-why?” Avery asked.

“I’ll explain later.  For now, avoid the kitchen and be especially careful with the rules there.”

“Getting my book,” Verona said, before heading back to the room.

“Nina,” Zed said behind her.  “If you’ll oblige…?”

Verona picked up the pace, so she could minimize what she missed.  Some other kids further down the long hallway were heading into their rooms, it looked like.  Slightly older.

She opened the door, then stopped.

Two beds, each identical.  The left one had a small hammock fixed to the left wall and the back wall, so it rested at a diagonal.  Only big enough for Snowdrop’s possum body, but Verona figured she’d drawn it roughly that small anyway, so she couldn’t complain.  There was a bedside table, a desk in the corner with room for someone to sit at the end and for someone to sit at the long side, with a fair bit of room for each.  Heavy black curtains were tied back with leather thongs, allowing the sunlight in.

Their bags had been unpacked, it looked like.  Her art supplies were on a shelf an overhead reach from the shelf, their practice stuff like the scribe’s pen in the hollow between the top of the bedside table and the drawers.  Clothes- she checked.  Clothes in the dresser, folded and sorted.

It smelled like sawdust, but there wasn’t a trace of any.   It also smelled faintly of drying paint, but nothing looked even tacky, let alone wet.  The window was open, she noted, which helped the smells to dissipate.

She walked into the room, doing her best to contain excitement and glee.  Her expression remained dead, and she guessed that her ability to do that was something her father had given her.

The painting above the desk was a hunting scene, with men on horseback at a clearing that took up half the painting, the lead man holding a horn.  The rest had rifles and pistols.  Some twenty barking hunting dogs were giving chase, woodland creatures fleeing en masse.  Including a fox and a deer.

It took some searching to find the cat.  One of the dogs had the cat in its jaws.

She had to climb onto a chair and kneel on the desk with one knee to grab the framed painting.  She lifted it down, then made her awkward way back to the ground.

She set the painting down in the hallway, leaning against the wall with the painted side hidden.  She got her notebook and a pen, and then scribbled out a note.  ‘Replace with something more pleasant, with a fox, cat, and deer in it’.

She fixed it onto the back of the painting, using the head of one of the nails in the frame.

She kind of liked the hunting picture, morbidly enough, but she had the sense it would bother her friends.

Verona hurried back.  She arrived just in time to see Nina get summoned again.  Her notebook tugged at her hand as it sought to join that little reappearance, but there was no harm done, nor to the books around the library, not even to the books that were burnt or singed, gathered in a box that rested on a chair.

“…animus that we know doesn’t need to eat either,” Avery was saying.

“Pretty usual.  Nina gets her sustenance by reading.  She gets resources for pursuing her aim that way too.  Money to buy train fare to get to the next big city, to visit the various bookstores and yard sales there.”

“I’ve not had much luck at the yard sales,” Nina said.  “Some graphic novels.  But that’s the province of another sort of Animus.  A snack and curiosity for me, nothing of particular interest.”

She picked up a burned book, and then held out her hand.  A loose piece of paper flew up to the waiting hand.  She laid it over the page and held it there with one hand.  On the loose piece of paper, she penned out typeface.

“How does someone become an Animus?” Verona asked.

“You don’t, as far as I know.  Or if you do, you lose so much ‘you’ that you’re essentially someone or something else altogether,” Zed answered.  “They tend to emerge from paths that are carved out by humanity.  Enough people have gone looking for books or tried to track down information that the path was worn out, and spirits were able to consolidate into something solid.  Sometimes the path is carved out by many, other times it’s carved out deep.  ‘Many’ gives you a Nina.  Deep can give you… I don’t know…”

“A pugilist, who wanders, looking to take down the undefeated,” Nicolette supplied.  “Or a nemesis, to answer and match the investigator or rising star that’s doing well.”

“Would have to be a rising star in an underground band scene or something,” Zed said.  “They don’t have backgrounds and can’t spring up in contexts where people would be free to dig into who they are.”

“I was spitballing, but yeah.  The nemesis is only a theory, anyway.”

“I feel so lost in all of this, even after weeks,” Brie said.

“I love it,” Verona said.

“You would,” Lucy said.  Then she turned around.  Her expression softened.  “I’m glad you’re happy.”

“So happy.  Every night’s going to be like a slumber party.  I’m so freaking into this.”

“Shh,” Nina whispered, holding a finger to her lips.  She indicated the books.

“Sorry,” Verona whispered back, meaning it.  She whispered to Zed and Nicolette, “Can I take out a book?”

“They’re free to take, so long as you bring them back,” Zed whispered.

Verona headed for the shelves, only for Lucy and Avery to stop her.

“What?  No, please.”

“You can stop here on the way back.  We’re going for a walk, then to dinner.  Do you want to carry the books all that way?”

“Someone might get to them first.  What if there’s something really interesting and others keep taking it out, and I don’t get the chance?”

“I don’t think that’ll happen,” Lucy whispered.

“I can stay here while you guys go.”

“You can but I won’t let you,” Lucy told her.

Lucy and Avery each took one of Verona’s arms, dragging her out of the library.  Snowdrop hooked an arm around Verona’s thigh to help, except she didn’t really do much lifting.

“Why?  I don’t like this,” Verona protested.

“You might gainsay Zed by being the first person to become a Librarian,” Lucy said.

Nina, a bit down the hall, shushed them from the other room.

“It’s really only gainsaying if you tell a lie and someone calls you out on it,” Nicolette said.  “They get a bit of the power the other person lost, for doing the spirit’s share of the judgment.”

“But she might gainsay Zed, if she said the thing after,” Lucy clarified.  “I’m keeping you from gainsaying me, saying that?”

“I wasn’t trying to, but yes.”

Verona mock-cried as they took her further from the library.

“Don’t be such a wet tube,” Avery told her.

Verona laughed.  She took the opportunity to straighten and resume walking normally.  “That’s an Alpy thing, you sneak.”

“I’ve been waiting for an excuse to use it.  My friends wouldn’t get it.

“Showers and the big set of washrooms,” Zed notified them, indicating one room they passed.

They exited out the side door at the far end of the right hallway.  They were just at the foot of the long row of tables beneath the canopy.

“This bit of the tour is going to be more scenic than anything special, but if other students start talking about spots like the bridge or the dead rock, you’ll know what they mean.”

“Dead rock?” Avery asked, as they got out to the hallway.

“Covered with white lichen.  It’s a star-watching spot.  People will sneak out.  If I wasn’t ninety-five percent positive Alexander already knew and was too busy to listen in, I wouldn’t be saying this.”

“As boy-girl pairs?” Verona asked, waggling her eyebrows.

“I thought you were all about freedom of information,” Lucy told him.

“Yes,” Brie whispered.  “People go there for some alone time.  It can be hard to find sometimes, especially with Alexander keeping an eye on everything on campus.”

“It gets zany,” Zed said.  “It’s way more relaxed in some ways than a regular school, but also some students are married or slated to be married, with instructions given to Mr. Belanger with the expectation he’ll keep any dalliances from interfering with that.  At the very least, figure out who you’re with, before you go to the bridge for a midnight swim or whatever.  It could make or break the difference between strict detention and punishment and being sent back to your rooms with a laugh.”

“Zany,” Avery echoed.

“I think,” Nicolette said, before pausing.  “The more restrictive a setting is, the more people dive into the freedom they do get.”

“Restrictive?” Verona asked.  “Here?”

“Only a few hours of classes a day,” Lucy said.  “Lots of options, even for dinners, snacks, ditching classes…”

“It’s restrictive in its own way,” Nicolette said.  “I’m not trying to scare you off, but I do want you to be prepared.  Some classes are snoozefests.  Others are scary.  But most are hard, and they test you.  The Forest Ribbon Trail… I got a taste of the end of it.  What it was doing.  I got dropped off next to you, and then I had to wait for friends of a friend of a man like Alexander to pull me out.  But it’s a test, you know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Avery said.  “Figured that out while I was partway.”

“Good,” Nicolette said.  “Other practices will hit at different weak points, or ask different things of you.”

“I told them about the Alcazar incident,” Zed said.

“If you’re willing to say we’re more or less square, I’m happy to have you here,” Nicolette said.  They were walking down a path of flat stones at the forest’s edge, along the field behind the Institute.  Side paths led into the woods.  “So many people here are maneuvering for position, in the big picture.  It’s exhausting.  Others, they’re kids who couldn’t name three television shows your average twelve year old watches, or who grew up in households where willing human beings were ritually sacrificed several times a year.  There’s a dad who teaches here who raises bogeymen and sends them out on killing sprees to keep them sharp, and the kids consider it their normal.  Alexander paints a rosy picture, but-”

“Alexander has ears,” Zed murmured.

Nicolette reached up to her ear, pushing her straight black hair back and out of the way, and gripped her earlobe, so the stud earring protruded.  “He’s not listening.  It’s just us.”

“Watch your backs.  That goes for you too, Brie.”

“I picked up on most of it already,” Brie answered.  “Zed was telling me enough times, watch out for him, watch what you say to her, don’t do any class practices with this person, skip this class…”

“…You pick up on it,” Brie said.

“That’s a bummer,” Verona said.

“They announce the next day’s classes and guest lecturers each night, beforehand.  I’ll point out some people,” Zed told them.  “Tell you what to avoid.”

“Thank you,” Lucy said.  “I kind of figured it might be like that.  It’s why I asked about who I could trust.”

“We were told not to trust anyone at face value,” Avery said.  She glanced at Zed.

“Including me?” Zed asked.  “Fair.”

“I think I have a sense of you,” Lucy said.  She glanced at Verona, then Avery.  “I think we do.”

“I think you do too,” Zed told them.  “I’m a fairly open book.  By principle.”

“So if you say we can trust someone, I’m inclined to believe you.”

“Some you can trust, some you can call friends,” Zed told them.  “Rarely both.”

“We’ve got each other,” Verona said.  She clapped a hand on Avery’s shoulder.

“Then you’re luckier than most,” he told them.  He looked off to the side.  “Dead rock’s down that path.  If there’s something in the middle of the path, go somewhere else.”

“Be careful,” Nicolette said.

“About the thing in the path?” Avery asked.

“About the people you seek freedom with.  The stuff Zed was talking about, with people running off to enjoy peak freedom… it’s not always boys and girls.  It can be making trouble for the nearby towns, or dealing with Others, or experimenting with practices.  The tougher things get at the school, sometimes worse because of what their practitioner dad or mom or families are laying on them in the way of expectations, the more out there and intense people can get.  And if someone’s clinging to you or seeking refuge in you when they finally sink beneath the metaphorical waters, they can drag you with them.”

“Like the Alcazar?” Brie asked.

“Or worse,” Zed told her.

“I probably shouldn’t follow you much further,” Nicolette said.  “I need to prepare for tomorrow morning, and if last year was any indication, I’ll be asked to field the last-hour student requests around lights out, too.”

“Good luck,” Zed told her.

“I’ll try to catch you at dinner,” Nicolette told him.  “If I’m not there, then pity me.”

“How could I pity you if I pity you all the time?” he asked.

“Can you really say that when you have the wispy mustache thing going on?” Nicolette asked, walking backwards.  “I love you, you’re a gorgeous man, and Brie is lucky to have you, but that thing…”

“I wanted to see if I could grow it out.”

“I’m pretty sure you can’t, and I’m an Augur, so you can consider that prophecy.  Give it a few years before trying.  Don’t be that teenager.”

“Alexander’s evil may have rubbed off on you,” Zed told her.

Nicolette smiled, fixed her hair ornament, and strode away, walking along flat stones inset into the grass.

They rest of them kept walking down the path, away from the school.

“I like it,” Brie told Zed.

“You’re biased.  You like me,” Zed said, putting his arms around Brie’s waist.

Out of mutual agreement to not be third wheels, the three of them continued down the path, a little slower than before.  Letting those two catch up.

“That’s a few people telling us to be careful,” Avery said.  “We did sort of promise ourselves that we would listen, the next times people told us that sort of thing.  Like with the Faerie, and the Trail, and stuff.”

“We still haven’t one hundred percent verified any of Maricica’s traps,” Verona said.

“Something to put on the checklist,” Lucy said.  She looked serious.  “Remember why we’re here.”

The fun and giddiness was gone.  She was as serious as Lucy looked.

Verona lay in the bed, arms wrapped around the pillow, her head bent forward to rest on it, giggling madly.  Lucy lay with her back to Verona’s.  She smelled like her hair product, which was all wrapped up.

“I can’t believe you chose the pizza slices with whole garlic cloves on them. I think I can smell it in your sweat.”

Verona giggled more.  Just across the room, Avery was in bed, lying with her feet by Snowdrop’s head, smiling.  Snowdrop lay, fast asleep, looking perilously close to falling out of bed.  Her arm dangled, holding her fork.

“And you sleep with books in your bed?”

Verona pushed on the books to make sure they didn’t fall from their perch at the end of the bedside table.  Forged Hearts, A book on the creation of enchanted objects, with a woman pulling a key out of her chest set into the spine like a shallow sculpture.  Quasi.  A book on Others who had a flirtatious relationship with being human, and humans who walked the line of being Other.

She hoped Lucy wouldn’t read too much into that.

“You okay over there, Avery?” Lucy asked.  She twisted around to look.

“Happy.  I like the painting.  Did you ask for that?”

“I did,” Verona said.  She could only barely see it in the gloom, with the curtains mostly drawn and no light sources besides their charging phones.  It was a scene with the point of view inside of a barn, a cat prowling through shadow.  A fox was sleeping in a sunray, and a deer lay-knelt in the grass, watching the cat.

“Your garlic breath is making my eyes sting,” Lucy protested.  “We might have to leave a note for the staff, go for a walk, and let them redo the furniture in here.  Separate beds.”

“I really like it, though,” Verona said.  “It reminds me of when we were kids, before you updated your room for middle school.  We’d sleep back to back like this.”

“Awww,” Avery commented.  “So cute.”

“I like this.  This is perfect.  If school gets tough, but I have this waiting for me, I think I can deal.”

“It’s really bad, Ronnie.”

“Do you want me to go brush my teeth?”

“…I’m going to go brush my teeth.”

Verona slipped out of bed, fixing the sheets so cold air wouldn’t leak in.  It wasn’t cold out, but the temperature had dipped into the low teens.

She put on slippers, grabbed her toiletry bag, then padded her way over to the bathroom.  Her cat toothbrush had eyes that jittered and moved as she hit the on switch.

She scrubbed teeth and tongue, then wiped down with a wet paper towel and donned deodorant in hopes of cutting back on the garlic sweat thing.

Out in the hall, a kid was crying.  She peeked.  Already, someone older was consoling them.

Far from home, in an eerie place.

Verona returned, slipping into the room.  It looked like Avery had drifted off.

Verona considered herself practiced in moving without making too much noise.  She crossed the room, careful to step where the bed and furniture already pressed floorboards down, to reduce creaking, and slipped into the bed.

“Hey,” Lucy murmured.

“Avery’s sleeping,” Verona whispered.

“Okay,” Lucy replied, quieter.

“What’s up?” Verona asked, her back pressed to Lucy’s.

“Feeling the weight of the whole summer ahead of us.  It’ll be the longest I’ve been away from my mom.”

Verona reached down, fumbled, and held Lucy’s hand, fingers interlocking.

“Can I tell you that you’re fifty percent less offensive, now that you’ve practiced basic hygiene?”

Verona lifted up their interlocked hands, then let them drop to punch Lucy in the leg.  It hurt a bit, with the way their fingers squeezed together.

“Ow.”  Lucy pulled her hand away.

“I’m glad we didn’t change the furniture around.”

They lay like that, Verona curled up around her pillow, able to feel and hear Lucy’s breathing, hear the sound of Snowdrop snoring.  She couldn’t quite sleep.  Her mind was too active.

Trying to anticipate, plan, figuring out what to expect, and replaying every conversation of the day.  She’d let Lucy down the other night, at the party.  After the party, breaking down.  She’d let Avery down, too.

Time passed and the thoughts got more circular.

She reached for the bedside table, past the books, and got her phone, pulling it free from the charger.

Ten thirty.  It felt like three in the morning.

She had a text from her dad.

Dad: I might need you to come home sooner than later.

They’d set out wards to keep him from dwelling on where she was.  But not to keep him or Jas or Avery’s parents from periodically making contact.

There were so many possibilities about what her dad was talking about and they only added to the whirl of thoughts in her mind.  That they did spooked her, because she was free here.  There were traps, things to watch out for, and pressures, probably, but she was free.  He wasn’t supposed to be able to get at her here.

He wasn’t supposed to be able to get to her here.  But he was.  She was already considering the scenarios where she could hate herself for not replying.  Her mom being in an accident.  Her dad having a heart attack.  Something happening to Jas, and him being someone trying to get in touch, while the diagrams they’d drawn out had their influence.

She opened an image program.

“Bright,” Lucy muttered, sleepily.

Verona adjusted, covering up the phone with a sheet, working in the little cave she’d made.

She drew the diagram, saved it, then sent it to her dad.  A connection blocker.

It helped with the circular thoughts on the one level.  It sent others in the recesses of her mind into a frenzy.  She stared across the room at a sleeping Avery.

That thing Nicolette had said, but drowning, dragging someone else down with her.

To do that to Lucy or Avery was the scariest thing she could imagine.

And it would be so, so easy.  She’d already done it twice.  And the way the curse had worked, and the way the Faerie fighting technique worked, threes seemed to matter.  What happened if there was a third time?

Unable to sleep, she focused her mind on anticipating the coming day.