by Cecilia Tan
Alex snorted. “I’m a different case. But by the time you’re a junior, you’ll be in better shape than I am to pick a junior project. I know you will.”
“How can you say that?”
Alex shrugged. “I’m an optimist.”
Kyle waited a beat and took a bite of the meatball after all. It was tangy and soft and each bite smelled of basil and oregano. “So what is your junior project? And isn’t it for next semester?”
“Well, that’s the problem. I’m actually behind by a semester already.” He grinned as if to show how ridiculous his predicament was.
“Oh. So you’re...if it’s not done by Christmas, you’re...”
“In really deep doo-doo, yeah.” Alex continued to eat as if it didn’t matter. “The only one who can give me an extension now is Bell himself, and you know I’m totally his favorite student ever.”
“Stop it, you’re dripping sarcasm all over me.”
“Sorry.” But now they were both grinning and Kyle felt a little better. Not about Alex’s predicament, but at least it didn’t feel like Alex was avoiding him. Of course he wasn’t. He really was at the library every night, and no wonder, if he was this close to the wire.
After a few more minutes of their usual banter, Kyle felt comfortable enough to even ask him, “So what was that about with you and Frost ?”
“Oh, nothing much. Just seeing if maybe he could put in a word with Bell on my behalf.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Well, I don’t think he will, but it doesn’t hurt to ask. It’s not like I’ve never done a favor for him.” He shrugged. “There is the little matter of the fact that we hate each other’s guts, but, well. You never know until you ask, right?”
“You really are something.”
“Yup.” Alex took a drink from his cup. “So how are you and Jess getting on? I keep thinking I ought to start something up with Monica, you know? Then she’d sleep in my room and you could stay with Jess whenever you wanted.”
“Are you serious?”
Alex laughed. “Only a little. Monica and I used to flirt a lot, but...I don’t know. She was really overly interested in me while I was with Jess, actually, which was kind of not cool, and if I got together with her, even though Jess and I are ancient history...it would just be awkward all around, you know?”
“I don’t, actually. But I can try to imagine,” Kyle said. “As for me and Jess...I don’t know. Everything we have is great. But I keep feeling like something’s missing.”
Alex waited for him to go on.
“I always stop just short of saying ‘I love you,’ you know? Because I don’t want her to flip out. I’ve used the word a few different ways, and we’ve each expressed a lot of feelings for each other, but...there’s something about the...saying it that way...”
“The declaration of love,” Alex said with a knowing nod.
“Yeah. The declaration. And she says things that make me think she doesn’t want to hear it.”
Alex shook his head. “She just doesn’t think you’re ‘the one,’ Kyle. You have to do something to show her you are. If you want to be, that is. If she’s the one for you, you have to do something to really show her your intention to...to be with her, in a pair-bond sense. I think honestly it’s easier—almost unavoidable, in fact—when you’re having actual penetrative sex. Don’t ask me why, maybe it’s just biology, but when you’re actually fucking, you can’t hold back the declarations, and the wanting to hear them, too. Maybe it’s the heightened vulnerability. I don’t know. Or maybe it’s just that Jess is cold.”
But she’s not cold,Kyle thought. She’s smoldering hot. “What do you mean by show her I’m the one?”
“Well, maybe you do need to make that declaration. But not by just blurting it out to her. If she’s really the one, have you thought about seriously courting her? Asking her to marry you kind of thing?”
Kyle blinked. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Well? Is she the one?”
Kyle sighed. “I think about her constantly. Sometimes when I haven’t seen her for a day or two, I can’t eat. It’s only through sheer force of will I am not actually living in your suite on the couch just so I can be near her every minute of every day.”
“Well, that sounds like you’re in love, all right.”
“On Halloween, I tried to figure out a way to make her dream come true.”
“Her dream?”
“I told you about this, right? About how she had a dream she’d meet her true love at a masked ball?”
“Oh, right. Oh and you thought...yeah, okay, good thinking, Kyle, but I guess what with the broom race going awry like it did, your night didn’t go as planned?”
“No.” Kyle chewed his thumbnail thinking about it.
“You know…Gladius House used to host a masque.”
“Used to?”
“I’ve seen pictures. Everyone in masks and pseudo-Renaissance finery, a very upper-crust sort of thing, you know, so of course Gladius House was all over it. Very traditional, no one comes with dates, the masks supposedly make you anonymous, or at least give you the thrill of possibly accidentally groping someone other than your intended...but you know, it’s all about plausible deniability. She’d know it was you, of course, when you asked her to dance, but she’d see you in a whole new light...”
Kyle could picture it. He could picture it as clearly as if it were happening right in front of him, his hand in a white glove, outstretched toward hers—this would be such a far cry from the senior prom he would have been attending had he not stumbled into Peyntree Hall a few months ago. “How do I make sure this masque happens?”
“Well, your first stop would probably be Brandish’s office, unless you want to try to engage the support of some upperclassmen first.”
Kyle thought it over. “No, straight to Brandish it is.” He’d find out if he really had the knack for saying the right thing then, wouldn’t he? “Well, after dessert.”
“Sounds good. Get me a piece of that chocolate cake while you’re up, will you? Then off on our respective missions we’ll go.”
* * * *
Kyle went by Master Brandish’s apartment, tucked in the back of the first floor of Gladius House. He’d been to her office once before, but never into the apartment, which had an impressive door of some very dark-stained wood, carved in intricate designs. The door knocker was in the shape of a tiger’s head, holding the ring in its mouth.
He banged it gently; it sounded quite loud.
The door swung inward, seemingly of its own accord. Kyle had no idea if it was somehow opened with magic, or if it was one of the many things in the magical world that only gave that impression, but if delved into would be revealed to have some other explanation. The door closed behind him and he stared at it a moment, trying to see if there was a visible mechanism of any kind.
“Enter. I’m back here,” came Master Brandish’s voice from further in. Kyle was in a narrow hall, both walls covered from floor to ceiling with bookshelves, though it was too dim for him to read the titles. He made his way to the end and into the front room, a sitting room that reminded Kyle of the dioramas at historical museums, though he couldn’t have quite said what country or what period it represented. Some time when they liked fancy curlicues and gilt edges on things.
The Master was at the small, ornate writing desk, its diminutive size emphasizing her mannish height. “I’ll be with you in one moment,” she said, as she wrote by hand on a sheaf of paper. “Have a seat.”
Kyle sat on a chair that had delicately carved paws for feet.
“Tea?”
“Um, no thank you. I just had dinner.”
“All right.” She capped her pen and placed it in a holder and stood, stretching. She wore what looked like a heavy but comfortable cassock-like robe of brown velvet that covered her from neck to ankle, with matching slippers. She sat on the couch across from Kyle. “A word of advice. If you think the conversation about
to ensue might be difficult, say yes to the tea. It will give you something to do with your hands and to cover awkward silences with.”
Kyle had never thought of that before. “Um, thank you, but I hope this won’t be a difficult conversation at all.”
“Oh? What a refreshing change that would be. Usually students only seek me out when they are lonely, heartbroken, about to fail a class, inappropriately attracted to me, or otherwise in dire straits.” She laughed lightly. “What can I do for you, Wadsworth?”
“I hear that Gladius House used to host a masked ball. Is there a reason we don’t anymore?”
She regarded him. “You’re really here on a point of curiosity about house history?”
“Well, yes and no. It was a leading question.”
She quirked her eyebrow. “And if I don’t have time for leading questions?”
Kyle had the feeling they were fencing with words, and that the Master enjoyed doing so. “Well, my follow-up question would depend on the answer to the leading question.” Touché.
He was happy to see her smile at that. “Very well. As far as I know, the masques were discontinued around the time you were born for two reasons: fear of AIDS and a general movement at the time, stemming from the department of Esoteric Studies, trying to suppress student sexual activity.”
“Oh.” Kyle risked one more leading question. “But the department isn’t...like that now, is it?”
“We lose talented candidates all of the time because there are initiatory disciplines that can only be performed on or by a virgin. It’s a bit of a Catch-22, you see. The students most likely to be uninhibited enough to want to study sex magic tend to be the ones who haven’t waited, while the ones who save themselves for moral reasons aren’t the ones cut out to use sex as a magical tool.” She folded her hands on her knee. “We’ve been trying to recruit your girlfriend, as I’m sure you’re aware.”
“Yes. But I guess she’s leaning toward Healing Arts,” Kyle said, wondering if Master Brandish were going to try to get him to nudge her in that direction.
“We’ll know soon enough,” she said with a shrug. “Anyway, to your question and the one I think you are about to ask, I do not think there would be objections to us hosting such an event now.”
“Wow, yeah, my next question was going to be what you thought about us reviving the tradition, and what would I have to do to make that happen?”
She looked at him for what felt like a long time before answering. Kyle wondered what she was looking for, or what she saw. “Usually an event like that is put on by a committee, four or five students, dividing up the tasks of decoration, publicity, arranging the venue, food, and music. You could probably hold it in Lowell House, like the Halloween ball, easily enough. I can put in the official request. But I’ll want to know the names of your committee members before I do.”
Kyle blinked. “Wait, does that mean you approve the idea?”
“If you can get a committee together. Wadsworth, I don’t have to tell you I’ve been somewhat concerned about your lack of integration into the Gladius fold. I know we don’t have many foundlings in the house, both traditionally and in current circumstances, but if Frost can move up the pecking order as swiftly as he has—and with him dating someone outof-house as well, I might add—then I feel you should be able to.”
Kyle tried not to stare. Frost was a foundling, too? Frost, who seemed to know everything about every word wizard? Presumably he was “found” a lot younger than Kyle, though. “I was at the broom race, you know,” he said, a little defensively.
“Yes, I do know.” She gave him that examining stare again. “Someone needs to become Broomsmaster after Remy graduates, you know. If your aptitude develops along the lines of Applied Enchantment, you might keep that in mind. Replacing the broom Nichols destroyed might take two years, unless Remy’s besomic gifts really blossom.”
He didn’t know what to say to that. “Um, thanks for letting me know.”
“You sound skeptical.”
“Oh, just, I...haven’t even had a class in Applied Enchantment yet.”
“Hmm. I’ll try to make sure you can register for one. It’s easy for us to forget just how behind you are, having come in with no mentor.” She moved back to the writing desk and made herself a note. “It might have to wait until next year, but we shall see. Is there anything else, Wadsworth? Anything else on your mind you want to share?”
There were always a million unanswered questions crowding Kyle’s brain, but as Master Brandish stared down at him, he found he couldn’t think of a single one. “Er, no, I think I’ve got plenty to think about just now.” He stood. “Thank you so much for your time, Master Brandish.”
“You’re welcome. You may see yourself out.”
He bowed and she acknowledged him with a nod, and when he got out in to the hallway, the wooden door shut behind him, the thought in his head was, She wasn’t half as scary as I thought she was going to be.
* * * *
The next day the campus was half empty, and by dinnertime there was only a handful of magical students left. Only the Nummus House dining hall opened for dinner, since it was the house with the most students remaining. Kyle still had not been to Nummus House, and he found himself walking there with Kate and Marigold at suppertime. They were going to leave the next morning for one of their parents’ houses—he wasn’t sure which. And of course, much of the talk centered around who was left.
“Michael’s staying, too,” Kate said. “It’s a shame we won’t be here. I feel like we never see him any more now that he’s with Frost all the time.”
Marigold sniffed. “Just because you don’t like Frost...”
“Nobody who isn’t a Glad likes Frost,” Kate shot back. “Only a Glad would walk around like he’s the king of the universe and not get slapped down for it. No offense, Kyle.”
“None taken.”
“And he’s only a sophomore anyway. Tell us the truth, Kyle: where is he on the totem pole in-house? He can’t really be that high up, can he? What with spending so much time at our place and everything...”
Kyle thought about it. “He’s pretty high up. Yeah, I guess he is higher than all the other sophomores. I hadn’t really thought about it before...”
“Hadn’t thought about it?” Marigold chuckled. “You really shouldn’t be a Glad.”
“It’s so obvious you should be a Scip. Most of the great poets who weren’t Glads were Scips,” Kate added.
“No, I think he should have been a Cammy from the start.” Marigold poked him gently as they walked.
“So, what’s Nummus House like?” Kyle asked, to get the subject off of himself.
“Most of the great Enchanters have come from there,” Kate said. “And most of the leading researchers into Tech Magic are Nummies, too.”
“Tech Magic?”
“Yeah, like encryption for e-mail that only allows the Sighted to see the text, stuff like that. Their House Master is really fun, too. His name is Karl Zoltan, and he performs magic sometimes in shows and on the street in the Square. Not real magic, of course—which is why his show is so funny. Here we are.”
Nummus House was not on one of the main quadrangles of Harvard, but was on a side street, a very large Victorian-era building. Kyle was startled to see a UPS delivery man in brown carrying a package up to the front door. “It’s not hidden?”
“Nope. Their old building was, but something happened to it like fifty years ago and they moved here, and there was too much documentation of this building to just erase from everyone’s memories. Come on, I’m starving.” Kate led the charge up the front steps and through the front door, where a tutor was signing for the package.
The dining room was similar in size and setup to Scipionis House, and Kyle wasn’t surprised to see Master Harold Lester was seated at a table with one of the other upperclassmen Kyle recognized but couldn’t name on sight. Marjory Ransom, the resident tutor on Jess’s hall, was eating with Monica.
Candlin was there, too. Kate made a beeline for him, putting her jacket on the chair next to his, then going to get her food. Kyle followed suit and by the time he got back to the table, Kate was already chatting Michael’s ear off about various things. Michael was being his usual quiet self, but he did have a small smile on his face for much of the meal.
Kyle text-messaged Alex, wondering where he was, but he might have eaten something in the Square, or just skipped dinner to spend more time in the library. I know you’re crunched, but tomorrow’s a holiday. Let’s go roof walking or something tonight.
The answering text didn’t come until much later, past when the library should have been closed. Can’t. All-night research session. Let’s have Thanksgiving dinner together tomorrow, though.
Kyle didn’t think anything more about it, and he went back to Scipionis House with the two girls, while Michael begged off joining them. They taught him a card game played with Tarot cards and he lost track of time as they passed the hours.
They had just finished a round when the bell began to ring. The girls exchanged looks. “That’s...that’s an alarm bell,” Marigold said with a frown. The sound of Master Lester’s office door banging open made them jump and they watched, amazed, as Lester ran at top speed across the common room and out the door. Kyle gave a glance to the other two and in another moment they were following him. Kyle wasn’t sure where they were going but he was even more amazed to see Master Brandish running across the quad as well, a naked sword in her hand. Her path and theirs converged at the Elwyn Library.
Kyle stopped in his tracks when he saw Ms. Finch kneeling on the bottom step, her hair askew and holding a chalice into the air. Brandish ran straight past her into the building. Then Lester reached her, drew a wand from his jacket pocket, and touched the rim of the cup. Fire seemed to leap out in a ring, circling the building. Kate and Marigold stood on either side of him.
“What’s the fire for?” Kyle asked.
“It’s a barrier, keeps anyone from going in or out,” Marigold said in a whisper.