Magic School, chapter 7 (Patreon)

Jake followed the others, but a man who was only about three feet tall with a cartoonish face and a huge, bulbous nose stepped in front of him. The man had wild hair decorated with tiny braids and gray stones and quills that poked out like they were coming out of his head in a crown pattern.

“Gray-shirt, gray shirt, where will you sleep tonight. Make your choice and pick a dorm or we will give you quite a fright.” He chortled and all his quills rattled.

“Oh. Um…”

“Say you’ll stay with us,” said Tarben.

“But…” Jake looked over toward Alicia, but she was talking to a girl with bright blue hair who also had on a purple shirt.

Tarben leaned closer. “Pukwudgies run the castle. If they like you, they make your life insanely easy. If you annoy them, they’re terrors. Don’t annoy this one.”

Jake blinked, and the Pukwudgie’s smile grew wider. He had definitely heard Tarben.  “With the Alexes, please,” said Jake.

The creature waved a stick-thin hand.  “Done and won and overrun with amusement for how this unanticipated turn could upend certain plans.”  Jake’s trunk vanished from out of his hand.

“Hey! Give that back. It’s mine!”

Tarben grabbed Jake by the arm. His trunk was gone too. “Thank you very much,” Tarben shouted as he dragged Jake into the main hall.

“But…”

“Pukwudgie!” Tarben sang and he pulled Jake through a grand entrance with a stair that swept up to a second and third floor that rose high above their heads and then into a dining hall.  Five long tables stood under colored banners that marked the different majors and in front was a table on a low stage that went the width of the room. That’s where the adults were sitting. Tall windows showed the front lawn even though Jake had just walked past the outside of the building, and there were no windows.

But here they were, two stories tall and arched with white curtains that fluttered in the night breeze. And tiny lights flickered and danced around the room. One flashed right in front of Jake, and he realized it was a firefly.  Thousands of them cavorted around the five long chandeliers over the student tables, probably because each chandelier was dripping with flowering vines.

“Whoa,” whispered Jake.

But the kids had neatly divided themselves into the color coordinated tables, although there were a few gray shirts dotted around, especially at the gold and red tables.

“Hey!” said Alicia as she came from behind and physically pushed Tarben so she could stand between.  “Keep your Clan Feral claws out of Jake.”  The students around them all froze, and Jake looked from one to another. His book had called the Clan Ferals a terrorist group, but apparently, accusing someone of being one was a sin that exceeded any insult Jake had ever seen thrown on a playground because a few students had slipped their hands into pockets and one had her wand out. She was a green-shirted girl with a muscular build–like a football player maybe.  And she was tall. Even without a wand, Jake would have avoided pissing her off, and Alicia had managed quite nicely.

“What did you say, dirty little Stewart? You grub around in the mud and poverty so much that it’s hard to understand you.”

Alicia turned bright red. “At least my father isn’t a murderer.”

“Neither is mine. He was acquitted.”

“More like he bought himself free. You must have a lot less money now.”

“We have infinitely more than you,” Tarben shot back. He looked around at the others who had formed a circle and smirked at them. Quite a few smiled back, and Tarben stood a little taller.

Alicia had fisted her hands and she was trembling with rage.

“Hey, we shouldn’t do this here,” said Jake.

She turned to him. “You have to tell the pukwudgie to put your trunk in with the Gees.”

Pierre took a step forward, standing right in front of Tarben who objected with a loudly squawked “Hey!” but Pierre ignored him.  “Unfortunately,” said Pierre, “Jake has already told the pukwudgie that he will be staying with us tonight, and we were hurrying away from the front while the creature was still amused by Jake’s accusation that he stole Jake’s trunk.”

Alicia whirled around on Jake. “You didn’t!” she exclaimed.

“He took my trunk. Of course I did.”

Alicia slapped her hand over her face. “Pukwudgies don’t steal. Or they do, but they only do it when it’s funny, and they return whatever they steal with a bonus for letting them steal it.  People want pukwudgies to steal their stuff. They’re tricksters, but they don’t interfere.”

“Well that’s not true,” said Pierre.  “They’re connected with wild magic, so they’ll interfere where they want, but they’re tricksters so they generally just want to keep things lively.”

“No,” said Alicia. “If they like you, they’ll do favors. But if they don’t like you, they’ll ignore you.”

The muscular girl spoke up. “Or put blue dye in your soap or replace a vial in your elixir kit with dried black swallowwort vine. They won’t do anything harmful or interfere with your life, but they’ll play pranks on you until you pull your own hair out.”

“Black swallowwort vine?” asked Jake. He had read about how dangerous Elixir class was and he wondered how vicious the pukwudgies pranks could get.

Tarben answered. “It strangles off the magical properties of other ingredients. I keep some in my kit in case I have to toss it in a cauldron to stop a reaction, but if you add some by accident, you’ll have a cauldron full of worthless sludge that’s about as magical as water. Normie water, not anything from a natural spring.”

“All of us who grew up on estates with pukwudgies know how much they love practical jokes,” said Pierre. “But this is boring, and I’m hungry. Who else is interested in finding out whether these pukwudgies can cook as well as our own?”

“Me!” said one of Tarben’s large friends–either Gahbor or Vee.

“There you have it.” Pierre threw an arm around Jake’s shoulders, and Jake nearly retreated from the touch, but more students were coming in, pushing to get past their group and clearly irritated with the first years who were blocking the walkway.

“I’ll see you later,” Jake promised as he let the others pull him over to the Alexes’ green-decorated table.  A green cloth ran lengthwise down the table and dishes with a green vine decoration waited for them to load them with food.  Vases with bright green flowers and broad leaves sat every sit or eight feet down the center of the table, and once Jake sat, he realized that made it hard to see the full length of the table.  He could only see the other students sitting near him.

Tarben settled at Jake’s left and the other students chose seats around them.  Pierre climbed under the table and came out on the other side to avoid sitting between Vee and Gahbor, both of whom were already filling their plates with biscuits and gravy and chunks of roast beef and buttered corn. Tarben cut a leg off a whole roasted chicken with crispy brown skin and the athletic girl stood to get a bowl full of mashed potatoes with melted butter pooling on the top.

There was so much food that Jake had to take a second to appreciate it.  The salad wasn’t just green stuff from a bag, there were cut red tomatoes and little bits of pale green and strips of darker green and seeds and nuts.  The nearby pie had dollops of whipped cream, enough for each piece to get some.

It was all so wonderful. And not a brussels sprout in sight.

Jake had no more than thought that when a dish popped into existence. Crispy brussels sprouts appeared–far more cooked than Mrs. Johnson had ever made, and she boiled hers so they never got brown and crispy like this. They had a dark sauce sprinkled over them and bits of bacon clung to them.

“The pukwudgies are paying attention to someone tonight,” said Pierre before he grabbed the dish and served himself.  He took a bite and then “mmmmed” with delight.  Curious, Jake served himself, and they were crunchy and salty and a little bitter the way salt and vinegar potato chips were. They were delicious.

Jake looked toward the teacher’s table, and Birger was staring at him, his mouth open and a look of horror on his face.  When he met Jake’s eyes, Birger looked away quickly, but after a second, he got up and practically ran to the principal, his long arms hitting two different teachers on the back of the head. One was Mr. Crabshaw and the other was the Elixir teacher–Mr. Agronivus.

Mr. Agronivus’s lips twisted into a snarl, but he was too busy staring at Jake to say anything to Birger, and Birger moved too fast for Crabshaw to object, even though he did whirl around, fury on his face.

Mr. Myren and Birger whispered, each looking over toward Jake until Jake finally shifted to put his back to them. It made him uncomfortable to know that the adults were talking about him. Maybe his family had scary magic capable of stopping Hardrada, but he didn’t know them. He didn’t want anyone to judge him by something that had happened when he was a baby.

Jake looked around and Alicia was sitting at the Gees table. The vines over their table spouted clusters of little purple flowers and the kids were every shade from violet to deep royal purple.  The rude girl was there sitting next to the boy who had lost his vine. Jake wondered if Alicia had ever checked her trunk. She had it open for much of the trip, so the vine might have slipped in there.

The rest of dinner passed in a flurry of introductions.  Jake got Vee separate from Gahbor. They were both large, but Gahbor was larger and quieter and Vee made nasty comments under his breath. The athletic girl was Brunhild Littlehorse. The smallest girl, and the one who kept leaning closer and watching them with an almost hungry expression that made Jake uncomfortable was Freja Waterford.  Then there was Carmela Sanchez who looked bored even as she talked to the other girls and Marjorie Aku who had the most gorgeous complexion–so dark that it looked almost blue-black.

Jake noticed they were the smallest cluster of first years.  The Merlin’s table was more than twice as long.  But the Alex table was so short that the colorful Flakes had a table that fit at the end of theirs.

Actually, now that Jake looked, the Flakes had the smallest table and the smallest group of first years, but then maybe magic people weren’t as interested in the arts.  It certainly seemed strange that more students wouldn’t want to study societal issues. But asking students to declare a major at twelve years old didn’t make much sense in general.

“What’s wrong with Mr. Agronivus?” Gahbor asked, and the others looked toward the head table.

“Looks cranky,” Vee said with a full mouth, and a half-dozen students loudly told him off.

Tarben leaned close.  “He doesn’t like teaching the first years. Elixirs are dangerous, and he feels like some students don’t take the subject  seriously. He always requests that the Alexes pair up with the Slacks for his class because he knows we don’t need as much supervision. But the Slacks have a reputation for not caring about class at all. And in Elixirs, that can lead to dreadful accidents. Just prepare for class and he’s brilliant. Youngest doyen ever in the Americas,” he said in a strangely proud voice.

Jake felt like he had entered a foreign country and he only knew some of the language.  “What’s a doyen?”

“Someone who has reached the top rank of elixireers. The certifying committee is in France, and I hear the testing is impossibly difficult.”

“It is,” said Pierre proudly, deepening his French accent.

Tarben rolled his eyes.  “He should properly be addressed as Doyen Agronivus, but the principal wants everyone to feel equal and welcomed, as if having one of the best elixir makers in the world teaching us is a bad thing.” He snorted and shot a glare off in the direction of Principal Myren. As the clinking of dishes started to fade, Principal Myren stood.

“I hope all of you are ready to have a wonderful year, to learn fascinating new magic, and creative new curses when you get weekend homework,” he added with a chuckle, and about half the room chuckled with him. Oddly, the Alexes did not.

“I already warned our new students, but this is a reminder that older students are to stay out of the Ring Forest as well. Having a year or two or even four of Stables and Kennels behind you is not sufficient if you find yourself nose to snout with a camahueto. If you think an angry bull is dangerous, try a one-horned magical bull that can control time for short bursts. So when I warn you to avoid the Ring Forest, please take me more seriously than when I ask you to stop linking your slates and passing notes in class.” Students laughed again, and the principal smiled before finally chuckling with them.

“Yes, yes. I am not so old that I don’t remember getting in trouble in these very halls. However, some trouble is easier gotten out of than others, so the ocean inlet and the Ring Forest are forbidden. Verboten. Vetiti. Interdit. Prohibido. Forbudt Yasak.” He paused. “I’ve quite run out of languages. Does anyone have any more for me?”

“Defandi,” someone yelled out.

Principal Myren smiled broadly. “Excellent. Defandi,” he said, copying their pronunciation.  “Yes, the Ring Forest is defandi.  I also warn you to remember that we have students working on masteries. If you find a locked classroom, I suggest you leave it locked. You never know when someone’s sentient golem will stumble out a previously locked door.” His tone sounded teasing, but that horrified Jake. He was never opening any doors at all.

“As if he’d let someone experiment with golems,” said Tarben with a dismissive sniff. “Those require ritual, and you all can guess what my father said about the principal when it comes to those.”

Around them, heads nodded. Clearly the rest of them did know how the principal felt about rituals.

Principal Myren clapped his hands. “All right. Off you go. Sleep tight.  Don’t let the bed bugs bite, but only those of you who have annoyed our gracious hosts need to worry about that. So before we go, can I have a round of applause for the pukwudgies who provided tonight’s feast?”

The room exploded with whistles and shouts and stamping feet and clapping hands and someone set off a firework that showered the whole room in purple sparks.  Eventually the applause died down, and a boy in a green shirt walked down to where the first year Alexes and Jake were sitting.

“Welcome to Chumhouse, and the best major in Chumhouse, Societal Studies.” He smiled and then looked at Jake with clear confusion.  Tarben scooted a little closer, and the emotion vanished before the older boy smiled at everyone else. “I’m Doger Encubierto, one of your fifth year mentors. We need to stay together because I am going to show you to the Salamander Vault in the castle’s basement. The upper level of the vault is for Elixir class and the lower level has our dorm.”

“The basement?”  Jake asked with alarm.

“Be glad.  The Slacks have the third floor of Gnome Commons,” Tarben said, pointing overhead.  “So they have less space and I heard that the whole floor is dangerous to even walk through. They play ball games in the corridors and pull so many pranks on each other that they don’t know if the pukwudgies are mad at them. If I had to clean up after Slacks, I’d be mad all the time.”

“Better than the Towers,” said Brunhild. “Can you imagine the stress just floating around in the air, putting all the Merlins and Techies together?” She shivered in horror.

“Father says we have a wonderful view of the magma lake and since that’s the source of the magic protecting this place, that’s more important than anything.” Tarben said it in a tone that made it clear he considered his father’s word final.

Jake wondered how many times Tarben could use the word “father” in one sentence. Jake didn’t know if he was aggravated or jealous of the close relationship Tarben clearly shared with Mr. Garcia.  The mentor led them down a flight of stairs to a mostly empty room with a series of arches along one wall.  “At one point, the Vault served as a hiding place in case enemies found us,” Dogen said.

“At the bottom of the ocean?” blurted Jake. He felt like they were in more danger from the water than enemies.

Dogar blinked at him for a second. “Even if normies can’t find us down here, there was one war with British mages who thought that because their normie countrymen claimed the land that they had rights over the Natives and Viking communities that had been here for centuries.  We convinced them otherwise. There have also been a number of skirmishes on our shores when wars in the Old World led groups to come here to steal resources when their enemies cut them off from resources at home. So yes, enemies might find us.”

He frowned at Jake for a second, and Jake’s face grew warmer and warmer, but then he turned to the third arch and laid a hand on the brick. The whole arch shimmered and then the bricks vanished, revealing an arched passage to a huge spiral staircase. Each “step” was wide enough to park a small car.

“Step on, and hold the rail. The magic will keep your feet in place, but you wouldn’t be the only first years to fall on your noses and need a trip to the nurse’s office before school even started.”

Jake hesitated, but Tarben grabbed his arm and hurried onto the step, grabbing the railing with one hand and grabbing Jake with the other.  Jake put both hands on the rail and Pierre squeezed in next to him.

“Go!” someone called.  The stair spun to life, falling down into the dark and twirling around the center pole. Jake would have fallen only he was jammed in between Pierre who was smiling like a madman and Tarben who shrieked with joy. After the first heart-dropping moment, Jake could admit it was fun.  He was smiling by the time the stair stopped with a bump.

Everyone was laughing as they tumbled off the stair and then one more stair lowered into place and the rest of the Alexes appeared.  Freja Waterford was sitting with a stunned expression, and one of the other girls helped her up.

“Next time, hold on tighter,” Dodger said without much sympathy.  “This is the lab level. First and second years share a lab.  It’s your first door on your right.  Other years, classes get their own labs so they can leave more complex elixirs to brew. You can’t get to our dorm level from the main stair. For that, we need the next arch.”

He pointed to the wall where another solid arch stood.  Again, he rested his hand on the stone.  “Gray shirts can’t open this passageway, so either pledge to Societal Studies, or shift to sleeping somewhere else.”  His back was stiff and he definitely didn’t look at Jake when he said that. The current password is “Doyen Agronivus.  That will be changed often.  Don’t tell anyone the password, don’t write it down, and don’t invite people from other houses into our common room.”

When he said, “Doyen Agronivus, the stones shimmered and vanished, leaving another spiral stair, although a much smaller one.  He started down, and this time he walked like normal.  Jake was a little disappointed. Dodger led them into a huge room full of dark woods and tall fireplaces. The main fireplace was surrounded by carved snakes, and snake and dragon sculptures decorated the room.  And it seemed like all the older Alexes were there, waiting. Watching.  Jake avoided their gazes by studying the room.

Tapestries with fantastical beasts and bookshelves with heavy tomes lined the walls.  Clusters of chairs and sofas marked different sitting areas, but they were all done in shades of green.  Jake felt like he’d stepped into a museum, and he tucked his hands under his armpits for fear that he would break something ancient and priceless.

Wide arches led to a huge empty room to the left and a pair of arches in the back led to long corridors.

“I’m Gianna Fulbright,” an older girl introduced herself.  “Welcome to Societal Studies, also known as the Alexes. We are the ambitious ones, the ones who want to make the world a better place and understand human nature. Because we are driven, we expect a lot of ourselves and each other.”

Tarben stood a little taller, but the older Alexes were ignoring this rousing speech. Some draped themselves artfully over the ends of settees and others sat primly on the edge of chairs with curved, carved legs.  Most kept sneaking little glances at Jake. Only the first years stood in the middle of the common room, listening to Gianna.

“As a mentor, it’s my job to help you with classes, but you need to learn some problem-solving skills for yourself.  You are the future leaders, so my first question will always be, ‘What have you done to solve the problem for yourself.’ Now, not every problem can be solved by a first-year, so do not hesitate to ask me once you’ve tried to solve it for yourself.  Our head of house, Mr. Agronivus, is invested in your success, but he is also responsible for teaching, marking papers, evaluating student potions, and providing all the potions for the nurse’s office.  He is busy enough without first years knocking on his door, so you do not bother him unless you have come to me, Doder or another upperclass student first. Now I want to introduce your program’s sponsor.”

She stepped to the side, and Mr. Agronivus seemed to appear out of the shadows, stepping forward into the flickering light of a sconce.  “Thank you, Miss Fulbright,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. The hairs stood up on Jake’s arms.

Mr. Agronivus studied the first years—six boys and four girls.  Jake felt very exposed in such a small group. Maybe it was his imagination, but he felt as if Mr. Agronivus spent a long time staring just at him.  Jake fidgeted and fought an urge to check to see if he had spilled food on his tunic.

“You will not bring shame to this house,” he warned. “If you have a detention from another teacher, I will determine whether prejudice or your own failings led to the punishment, and if I decide you bear responsibility, I will add my own punishment.  Do not assume you can hide misbehavior from me.  Years of Alexes before you have tried and they have all failed.” Mr. Agronivus swept his gaze across the entire room and the older students all stiffened. A few who had been sprawled sat up.

“Other houses will assume you are scheming simply because they do not understand the nature of ambition or because they associate the Alexes with the Hinter Jarl. They will call you Leys and imply that having a leysoul is a dangerous or even evil thing.  Do not rise to their taunts or dignify them with a response.  We learn to be strong by avoiding such childish tactics. Tantrums or childish words will not lead others to respect you.  That said, if other houses take their bullying beyond words, inform an older student, preferably one of your first year mentors immediately. If they believe it merits my attention, I have my own ways of making students from other programs regret targeting my students.”

“I expect you to learn to be leaders.  Apply yourselves to your studies. If you cannot impress instructors in class, then take advantage of the resources available to you and impress the Council with your Regents Exam of Knowledge.  First and second year students, go to your dorms.  Miss Fulbright will escort the first year girls to their dorms.  First year boys follow Mr. Encubierto. Older students, remain behind.”

This time Jake knew Mr. Agronivus was looking at him. Doder stood and headed for the right-hand arch, and the first year boys followed. Jake was starting to second guess choosing the Alexes for the night, but he was a gray shirt, so he could move tomorrow.

“Thank heavens you joined us, Newhouse,” Pierre said.  “Six is the magic number where the Vault will split the dorm.  If you weren’t here, all five of us would be in one room with one bathroom.” He shivered as if that would be a true horror.

“If you want to take advantage of my presence, I guess that’s a good reason,” Jake said.  “I have a question.”

“Ask away,” Pierre said.  He was so cheerful that Jake suspected he might be flirting, but Jake wasn’t sure.

“Why do you call me Newhouse instead of Jake?”

Four of the six first years stopped at looked at Jake as if he’d just said something particularly stupid, even Vehen Larsen who had been introduced at the dinner table, but who had not come out from behind a book long enough to exchange a single word. Gahbor and Vee continued down the corridor after Doger.

“That’s your name,” Pierre  said slowly.  “And calling someone by their first name without getting permission is dreadfully rude.”

Jake’s face burned with shame.  He looked at Tarben.

“That’s fine,” Tarben hurried to say.  “Mother pointed out that you’re cousins with her, and you called each other family, so first names is expected.”

Vehen Larsen gave Tarben an incredulous look.  He even lowered his book to do it.

“But I did that with Gahbor and Vee.”  Jake winced.  “Morningflower and Begay,” he corrected himself.

Tarben snorted. “Like they’re going to notice anyone else’s manners when they don’t have any themselves.  Besides, they both took it as a compliment.  If you go back to last names now, they’ll definitely notice and definitely be unhappy.  But you may have to remind them to use your first name if you really want them to.  Either way, they’ll be fine with you using their first names.”

“That doesn’t sound—” Jake wasn’t sure what he was going to say.  Tarben shouldn’t speak for them, and if they continued to call him Newhouse when he used their first names, that felt horribly awkward.  “Well, everyone here is welcome to call me Jack,” he said.

Pierre got a secretive smile and Vehen looked even more horrified.

Tarben cleared his throat.  “An exchange of first names is usually done individually after someone has done something to assist you or indicate that they’re willing to consider working with you.  So after I introduced you to my parents and you and Mother discussed your family relationship, exchanging an offer to use first names would be appropriate.”

“Right.”  Jake winced. “I’m screwing this all up.  I’m so sorry, and when I do dumb stuff like this, please feel free to tell me.”

“You’ll be fine,” Tremblay said with a wide smile and his lilting French accent.  “Right now, I like you more than most of the human race, so you’re doing something right.”

“Get down here,” Doger called, and all of them hurried down the long corridor with doors on either side.  “Three here and three across the hall,” he said, pointing to the names next to each door.  On the right was “Larsen, Newhouse, Tremblay” and on the left “Morningflower, Begay, Garcia.”

“But—” Tarben said.

Doger cut him off.  “No switching. Besides, Newhouse might not stay.”  He turned and strode back in the direction of the common room.

“Well.” Pierre clapped his hands.  “This is us.”  He opened the door. Three four-poster beds hung with dark, rich velvet curtains dominated the space.  Each of them had a trunk next to their bed, but Pierre also had a desk.  The room was spacious enough that Jake would be able to fold out his trunk-desk, so he didn’t mind the lack of a personal desk.  At the foot of each bed was a small carved bench, and down the center was a window that glowed red.  Jake walked closer and saw a bubbling lake below, red lava swirling and churning. Sometimes a bit of it would push up and the tip would start to go dull before it tumbled back into the burning lake.

“Whoa,” Jake whispered.  The glass wasn’t hot, but Jake’s feet and fingers tingled.

Tarben moved to his side. “There’s actually like a mile of rock between us, but we are closest to the source. My father considered sending me to Europe for school, but this… this is special. This is ours.  No one else in the world has a school quite like ours, and no matter what people do, the magic will always be here.”

Jake crouched down to press his fingers to the glass, and the tingles intensified.  He felt like laughing, like throwing his head back and screaming, like running around or dancing in the rain or riding the spiral staircase a million more times.  He was considering doing all of it when he felt like his ears popped and he looked around.  Pierre was smirking at him and Tarben smiling and Vehen looked constipated.

No… Not Pierre and Vehen, Tremblay and Larsen.  Jake was going to get himself in trouble with that rule.

“I’m exhausted,” Pierre said after a second.  He went over and opened his trunk.  Like Jake’s, the top rose to show a full wardrobe.

Tarben sighed. “Well, I guess I have to go to my room. If you need anything, call me.  The Garcias are the closest thing you have to family in the magical world, and we always take care of family.”

“Yes, yes,” said Tremblay. “You’re quite famous for it. Now I’m sure you need to go spend two hours in the bathroom after such a long ride.” He practically pushed Tarben out of the room.  When he turned around and saw Jake staring at him, he shrugged. “Our parents were friends before we were even born. I know him. He would park himself on my bed and declare a sleepover if it meant being here if you got homesick in the middle of the night. He is a pest, but a persistently loyal one.”

“I’m not likely to get homesick. I hated my home,” said Jake. He opened his trunk and realized he didn’t own pajamas.  That’s okay… he had a few shirts he had kept out of the garbage and one was a band t-shirt that was far too long on him. That would work as a night shirt. He started digging through the drawers to find it.

Larsen grunted, but he opened his own wardrobe.  Larsen vanished into the attached bathroom, and Jake quickly changed into his nightshirt. He fell into bed and was asleep almost at once.

Maybe he had eaten too much because he slid into a strange dream.  He was wearing Mr. Crabshaw’s tunic, only it was the same green as his bed drapes.  The tunic had a mouth made out of green and black beads on the front of the shirt, and it kept talking to him, asking why he was sleeping in the Alexes’ dorm and what ambitions he had. It kept whispering about destiny, but every time Jake tried to hear exactly what the tunic was saying, its voice grew softer.  Jake tried to pull the tunic off so he could see the mouth right side-up and have a proper conversation with it, but when he reached for the hem, it got long and longer until he was buried in miles of beaded fabric. All that was left exposed was his head—and then there were Tarben and Alicia, each accusing the other of being from a bad family.

Then both disappeared into the shadows and the darkness turned into Mr. Agronivus who laughed, his voice high and cold. There was the sound of an explosion and Jake woke, sweating and shaking. At first he thought someone was standing next to his bed, but he realized he had not closed his trunk and the tall wardrobe section stood open.

Jake rolled over and fell asleep again, and when he woke the next day, he didn't remember the dream at all.