by W. C. Peever
Charlie, in return, gave Marley a disappointed look that said more than any combination of words could.
“Start small, dream big,” Marley laughed. “My arms master told me that once. He was a wise man and I was an impatient student. I didn’t get it then and I don’t get it now.” Charlie gave him a quizzical look. Marley replied matter-of-factly, “I gave you a stick so you wouldn’t hurt me, or yourself, while you learn how to correctly wield it.”
“But I already know how to fight with a sword. I took on the dog-sized rats in the tunnels.”
“Were the rats carrying swords? If the rats had been trained swordsmen instead, would you have been able to defend yourself? For example, take that stick and attack me. If you can strike any part of my body with it, we can lose the sticks.” Marley picked up a three foot long wooden dowel. Charlie looked his target up and down. He remembered watching a movie where the hero had pretended to swing and then had gone the other way and chopped off his opponent’s legs. He thought that this style of attack would be best, as he was closer to Marley’s legs than any other part of his body. His plan set, he attacked. Marley stepped aside, stuck out his stick and tripped Charlie, sending him flying to the stone floor.
Charlie muttered, “Okay, so the giant rats didn’t do that.”
“Then you are ready to begin the training?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent. The first thing I would like to teach you is stance. Separate your feet about the same distance apart as your sword is long.” Charlie separated his feet and looked up. “Excellent. Now, raise your elbow so that it is parallel to your feet. Good. Now extend your wrist so that your sword, or in your case your stick, is pointing at three o’clock. Excellent. You’re ready.”
To Charlie’s surprise the two hours he had been sentenced to practice with Marley went quickly, and soon they were saying good-byes and scheduling their next meeting. “Thank you Marley.”
“See you next week, Charlie, and bring back that sword you stole from my collection. I may even let you use it.” He winked at Charlie and waved goodbye.
Charlie descended the stairs to the dormitory three at a time, excited with the prospect of sharing with his friends what he had learned. He was almost to the common room door when he heard shouting emanating through the old stone walls. Charlie picked up his pace and opened the door to the common room. Mick had Lance in a stranglehold and Bailey was wrestling a girl on the floor. In fact, the entirety of both lacrosse teams that had scrimmaged each other that day was brawling on the floor.
Before Charlie could get in on the action, Ms. Welling burst in, arms outstretched, bellowing something in what sounded like Latin, closed her eyes for a moment, and then opened them with stunning speed and ferocity. “Enough,” she yelled. Furniture and students alike were thrown against the walls, wind and water pelting their faces. The maelstrom subsided, and left in its wake a shocked silence. “What exactly is going on here?” She waited for what seemed like an eternity without receiving an answer. “No? Alright then, detentions all around. I will not tolerate this behavior. The Headmaster has been called, and I suggest you start redeeming yourselves by cleaning up the mess before he arrives.”
Charlie ran over to Mick and Bailey, who were brushing themselves off. “What happened? Bailey, are you bleeding?” There was indeed a deep cut running across her left cheek. Mick looked up in alarm and quickly healed the wound.
“Thanks Mick,” Bailey said, sounding exhausted.
“Well?”
“The Green Team was cheating, and Sadie confronted their captain. Tillie’s boyfriend slapped his stick across her helmet. From that point on it was a melee. The referee sent us all to the showers, but it all resurfaced again when Bailey and Tillie fought. I’ve never seen two girls fight like that before.”
“Then everyone else joined in?”
“Yeah it was a full-on brawl.”
“Why were you and Tillie fighting, Bailey?”
“Why do you think? Tillie can’t see that her boy friend is an evil twit. I can’t imagine what she sees in him at all.
Oh, sorry, Charlie.”
“Sorry about what?” Charlie said, defensively. He felt a pang of jealousy that Tillie was so taken with the guy, but was not about to admit that to Bailey.
“Well I know you like her and…”
“I do not like her. She’s a friend, that’s all.”
“No need to get your boxers wedged, I’ve had enough confrontation to last me for a few hours, thank you. Um, Mick? You should find Tillie. I think I hurt her.” Mick headed off towards the girls’ dormitory, staff in hand. Bailey turned back to Charlie. “Her boyfriend is a serious creep. He just let Sadie have it for no real reason.”
“Who is he? Have I ever met him?”
“We both have. He’s the boy who delivers letters to and from the Headmaster’s office.” Charlie stared at her. “You know the guy who –”
“I know who you mean, Bailey. It’s just… I just had a weird dream about him the other night. In my dream he worked for the Vanari.”
“Charlie, I know this guy is not your favorite person, but tone down the paranoia.”
“But you said it, he’s evil.”
“He is. He’s a bully. He probably steals Twinkies from first graders, but that’s not the same as world-dominating, power hungry, kind of evil.” She shook her head, and bent down to tie her shoes. “My laces are all wet. Did you know an Elementalist could conjure up a hurricane inside of a room like that? I mean, that is some serious power Ms. Welling packs.”
Charlie spotted Mick tending to Tillie’s arm, which looked broken. Bailey put her arm around her best friend’s shoulders and rested her head on his arm. “Buddy, you like her, whether you’re willing to admit it or not. You like her and she has a boyfriend. You don’t need to like him, but that does not mean that he is the embodiment of evil. It just means that she’s taken, and you need to move on. Now, I need to go apologize to Tillie. Are you coming?” Charlie nodded affirmatively.
When they got to her, Mick was just finishing up with Tillie’s arm. “Sorry I threw you so hard against the wall, Till,” apologized Bailey. I should never have used my ability against you. I was just so angry about Sadie being hit like that.”
“It’s a game, Bailey. Sorry my boyfriend plays hard.”
“He plays dirty,” said Mick. Tillie shot him a look at them. “Hey, it’s true.”
“It doesn’t matter. We should have left it all on the field. It was between him and me, not between you and me.
Tillie, I’m sorry,” Bailey offered.
“So am I. I’m sorry that I ever became friends with you three,” she replied angrily, rubbing her arm.
Chapter Twelve
A Bit of Space, a Lot of Time
Winter finally released the castle from its icy hold.
The castle gardens were no longer laden with snow. However, the brisk March winds off the Highlands were enough to put color in the cheeks of the three friends. Charlie, Bailey and Mick were sitting together entrenched on one of the many stone benches that lined the perimeter of the gardens, frustrated.
“I’m glad to see the snow gone. It makes lacrosse a lot more fun! I just wish that…” Bailey stopped mid sentence and sighed. “I’m so sorry, Charlie. It’s my fault that Tillie is gone. I should have just kept my mouth shut.” She took a deep breath. “We need her, Charlie. I just can’t get my mind around this problem.”
Charlie looked up into the crisp blue sky as a brisk breeze whisked by his nose. It had the heavy odor of snow to come and he smiled, in spite of himself. Bailey would not be happy about this weather forecast.
A week had gone by since the fight in the common room, and Tillie was carefully avoiding them. Charlie’s blood boiled whenever he saw her with her greasy, pimple-faced boyfriend.
“Not your fault, Bailey,” he said. “Forget about it. I have. If that is how she wants to act towards us after what we went through together, then that’s h
ow it is going to be. Anyhow we have more important things to worry about.” Both Mick and Bailey gave Charlie an inquisitive look. “Well, isn’t it obvious? We’re closing in on March break and we still haven’t found the sword or the altar.” We need to forget about Tillie, though she was great, wonderful really. She helped out a lot.”
Mick tried rubbing some warmth into his face while he spoke. “Well, we know that the sword in still in the castle. The wards all around the castle have prevented all powerful objects from getting in or out. Joelle told me all about it.”
Charlie stood up, and stamped his feet. “Listen, we can’t go home for spring break, since Grayson and the Council think it’s too dangerous. Everyone else will be gone, and we’ll have the entire place to ourselves for a week. We can search every room in the castle until we find the sword.”
Mick sat up on the bench. “Not a bad idea, really. Not too many kids stick around. This is the best opportunity we are going to get.”
Charlie got excited and forgot about Tillie. “We need a plan.” He turned to Bailey. “I need you to do your computer thing.”
“Computer thing, Charlie? You mean actually being able to double click a mouse while typing? I didn’t know those were such valuable skills.” She rolled her eyes. “What do you want me to do?”
“Use your power of nerd. See who else has researched the poem. Someone else in the castle figured it out, and got down into the catacombs. I bet whoever it is used the computers in the library to figure it out. Not everyone is as smart as you and Tillie. They would have needed help, but couldn’t ask anyone to help them.”
“Good point. It wouldn’t be all that difficult. I just need to hack into the mainframe and steal the administrator password, which will be behind about thirty firewalls. Then I’ll need to bypass the virus detectors, and access all of the student accounts. From there I can set keyword searches to see –”
“Sounds like a lot of work. You should get right on it,” Charlie interjected. Mick shot him a grateful look. “Most of the students will be leaving for home after last class today, right?” Charlie continued. “Is there lacrosse practice?” Mick shook his head from side to side. “Excellent. I’ll go put our names down on the list of people staying over the break. I’ll meet you two in science class.”
As Charlie took off towards the castle, he heard the bells sounding ten o’clock. With only thirty minutes before class, he ran through the entrance that Tillie happened to be running out of at the same time, and they crashed into each other at full speed. Books and papers went flying everywhere, and the two students landed together in an awkward heap.
“I…I’m so sorry,” Charlie said, his face bright red as he helped Tillie to her feet. “Let me get your books for you.”
“Charlie, it wasn’t just you, I wasn’t watching where I was going either. I truly didn’t mean to…” They looked at each other and broke out in laughter. Tillie spoke up. “Listen Charlie, I know you and Bailey are…well… friends. I don’t want to come between you. That’s why I’ve been staying away. It would not be fair to her or to you. I refuse to put you in a situation where you would have to choose. It’s better this way, don’t you think?”
“Why can’t the two of you just make up?”
“It’s not that easy, Charlie. She was horrible to Sammy, and she said horrible things to me about him. He is my boyfriend, and she needs to respect that.”
“I think if you gave her a chance…”
“Let’s just keep things the way they are. Things are good between Sammy and me just now and I don’t want to screw that up. Maybe you and I just need to move on.” She kissed Charlie on the cheek, picked up her papers and last book and ran down the stairs to wherever she was off to.
Charlie stood there on the steps, shocked, confused and angry.
The giant mahogany grandfather clock in the foyer chimed the time to be twenty past nine. He still had ten minutes to get to class. He looked around for the sign-in sheet, but couldn’t find it anywhere. “Looking for this, Burrows?” Came the voice of Lance MacAlcester from behind him “Don’t tell me you’re staying here over the weekend as well? Your mommy glad to be rid of you?”
Charlie turned to see the pasty face of Lance looking at him, his hair looking particularly spiky today. “Screw you, MacAlcester. I hear your parents dumped you here and won’t be picking you up till June. I bet they would have left you here until you graduated if they could.”
“That’s a lie. My mother loves me; she –”
“Why so defensive? Did I hit a nerve?”
Lance made a very rude gesture at Charlie and he and his friends headed out the door. “Most of the teachers leave during break. It’s just Welling and the Headmaster. So if I were you I would watch my back,” he called over his shoulder. “You never know who is behind you.”
Lance dropped the sign out sheet on the floor on his way out and Charlie bent to pick it up. “Staying the week, Charlie?” asked Ms. Welling.
“Yes ma’am.”
“Very well. Thank you for giving me so much notice.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Welling. I didn’t find out that Professor Grayson had decided that I should remain here until today.”
“Oh my goodness. I apologize for speaking curtly. MacAlcester had me all weathered up.” A misting fog had gathered around the Elementalist’s head.
“Not another hurricane, I hope,” Charlie joked.
Ms. Welling smiled. “I will tell the cooks to expect three more, on top of the seven other students who will be here.”
“Seven others, Ms. Welling? Who is staying over the break?”
“Well, let us see here…” She thumbed through the sign out sheet. “Harvey Milan, Sadie Carpenter, Lester Harvey, Matilda Hatfield, Lance MacAlcester, and Ralph LaGrosse, and Samuel McKenna will be back from break early.”
“Thanks Ms. Welling. See you at dinner.” She waved him off and went back to her paperwork.
That was interesting, Charlie thought: Tillie here for break. He did not know all that much about Tillie’s home life, but it was still odd to him that she would be staying.
It was ten twenty-eight when he finally began his descent to the basement for Physics class. He reflected on the list again. Tillie’s boyfriend, Samuel, was coming back early. Then again, if he had a girlfriend like Tillie, he probably would do the same thing, if he went home at all.
He tried to put the thought out of his head for the time being as he broke into a run. He didn’t want to miss today’s explosion.
Charlie made it just as the Professor Viboo was closing the door for class. “You are late, young man. Come in, come in! Take your seat among the others.”
Mick waved to Charlie who worked his way among the scattered tables to sit with his friends. “I was starting to get nervous for you, mate. Good news is, he hasn’t made anything blow up yet.” Charlie smiled as he put on his safety goggles. The entire class was on the edge of their seats, in anticipation of what they now called Viboo’s Boom.
Professor Raja Viboo began to pace up and down behind his demonstration table, his too large white lab coat billowing out behind him. He seemed to be gearing himself up for something big. Suddenly he stopped, turned to the class and spoke. “I have been thinking about the problem you all seem to be having as we move into the theory of time and space. It is difficult to understand, I know. However, after today’s lecture if you do not grasp the concept, the fault is yours.
“Time. Time is a man-made device to measure order and duration. How many hours are in a day?”
“Twenty-four, Professor,” said Madeline Brown, a pretty, if somewhat ordinary looking girl, in the back of the room.
“Correct. Twenty-four hours in a day, the time it takes for our planet to make one full rotation on its axis. So far so good. This simple concept will become vastly important later, when we look at how space and time interact. Now how many days in a year? Anyone?”
“Three hundred and sixty-five, sir,” this time a
boy in the front of the room who Charlie did not know answered.
“Almost correct. It is actually three hundred sixty-five, point two-four-two-one-nine-nine days. This is why we have a leap year every four years.” The professor looked up at them. “You all seem to know the answers to these questions. Why, then, did you do so poorly on the quiz yesterday?”
“Perhaps, because you asked us about the space time continuum, not how many days are in a year,” said Lance, with so much contempt his lip curled like an angry dog.
“Perhaps,” Viboo said, ignoring Lance’s tone. “But the concept is relatively the same. Question: Does time matter if we are not on Earth?” Bailey’s hand shot up.
“Yes, Miss Relling?”
“Well, if you are up in space, when you return you might want to know what time and year it is.”
“What if you never returned home, would it matter then?”
“You’d still need to know how old you are. So, yes, it would matter.”
“Why does it matter how old you are? Age does not necessarily tell you how long you will live. Some of us die young, and some quite old.”
“I don’t know why, Professor.” Bailey replied, a baffled look on her face.
“Good answer. So I’ve rephrased the question: Are hours and days important, or is it time itself that’s important? What if our planet was closer to the sun and our year was only two hundred days long? Wouldn’t that change how we perceived time?”
A girl with curly brown hair that bounced when she talked raised her hand to answer. “Professor! That’s all about perception. Time itself wouldn’t change, just how we experience it.”
“Finally we get to the heart of the problem. Time is a concept that can be measured. Now, let’s take a step back and look at this whole concept in another way. How tall am I?”
Charlie looked him up and down, then spoke. “I would say five foot, six inches.”
“Really? When I went to the doctors last week he said I was one hundred and seventy centimeters tall. You must be wrong.” He smiled at Charlie.