Vela was the next to arrive. “Hello,” said the paladin, hanging her head. “I am an oath breaker and do not deserve any help in algebra.”
“Um,” said Olivia. She looked at Albiorix, unsure of how to respond.
“Olivia, will you excuse us for a second?” said Albiorix.
The wizard took Vela to a nearby aisle of books, out of Olivia’s earshot. Thromdurr and Devis followed.
“Vela, we have to somehow move past your oath breaking,” said Albiorix.
Vela merely sighed and stared at the floor.
“He is right,” said Thromdurr. “We cannot define ourselves by our mistakes, friend paladin. Otherwise I would ever be known as the Guy Who Accidentally Broke the Vase of the Gnome Queen.”
“Is there any way you can just . . . say you’re sorry to Brent or something?” said Albiorix. “I don’t even care at this point—you can tell him the truth about the books and everything.”
“I might make amends, but . . . it would not be enough,” said Vela. “As penance, a fallen paladin must right a greater wrong through great personal sacrifice.”
“Okay, let’s do that!” said Albiorix.
“Obviously, one so dishonorable as I would be incapable of such a noble act,” said Vela.
“But that’s circular logic,” said Albiorix.
“Yeah,” said Devis. “And just for the record, dishonorable people can do some pretty wonderful stuff. Check this out!” The thief began to balance a pencil on the tip of his nose.
“Guys, can we get started already?” said Olivia, interrupting their secret conference. “I don’t have all day.”
“Perhaps we should just wait a bit longer for Melissa,” said Albiorix, glancing at the clock.
“Fine,” said Olivia. “But if I don’t win the election tomorrow, this free algebra-tutoring gravy train ends. You got that?”
“Don’t worry,” said Devis, who had already moved on to scrolling through funny hedgehog pictures on his phone. “You’ve got the race in the bag.”
Olivia brightened. “I do?” she said. “But how can I possibly beat Nicole Davenport? Everyone loves-slash-is terrified of her! Even me!”
“Armando has got it all figured out,” said Devis. “Right, Armando?”
Olivia looked at Albiorix.
“Yes, well, the plan is for you to just . . . be yourself,” said Albiorix. “I think that authenticity will really carry us through the home stretch.”
Olivia frowned again. “It better.”
By three fifteen, it was clear that Sorrowshade wasn’t going to show, which irritated Albiorix to no end. Olivia confiscated Devis’s phone and began the lesson. It was, as the adventurers had come to expect, abrasive but instructive. Albiorix felt himself making rapid algebraic progress. Devis was clearly picking up the material as well, though he was loath to admit he was actually learning anything. Vela, too, when she could be goaded into giving an answer, often had the correct one. Only Thromdurr still seemed lost. Privately Albiorix wondered whether a primitive hunter-gatherer from the Steppes of Ursk could ever comprehend the advanced mathematics of this world. Douglas the Nerd still needed more help.
That evening—after thoroughly searching the entire school for any sign of evil ghosts—Albiorix returned once more to the gym. The threat of Zazirak had moved to the back of his mind. Maybe the warlock had simply given up on this place and returned to the underworld?
The election for class president was the wizard’s primary focus now. Albiorix supposed he had no choice but to employ the same tactic that had gotten Brent Sydlowski out of the race. He would use The Cyclopedia of Students to learn Nicole Davenport’s most embarrassing secret and use it to pressure her to withdraw, clearing the way for a narrow Gorman victory. Dishonorable? Maybe. But what choice did they have?
Yet when the wizard went for his pile of of H&H books to grab the cyclopedia, they were nowhere to be found. He checked again and cursed himself. Then he did a thorough search of the entire closet, and after that the whole gymnasium. While he’d left them unattended, someone had taken all twenty-seven of his Homerooms & Hall Passes sourcebooks.
“Well,” said Albiorix. “That’s not good.”
His theory that Zazirak had decided to leave JADMS alone now seemed naive. And Albiorix realized he would need to think of some other way for Olivia to win. That night the wizard barricaded the door with a pile of track-and-field hurdles and tried his best to come up with something resembling a plan for the election. Albiorix slept fitfully, his battle umbrella close at hand.
Monday morning before first bell, Albiorix waited on the couch beneath the Inspire Leadership poster until the vice principal could spare a few minutes to see him. Would this be the moment of confrontation? The wizard tried to stay calm, prepared for the worst. At last Ms. Roland called him back.
Sitting behind his desk, with a stern look in his gray eyes, sat Myron Flanagan.
“Good morning, Armando,” said Flanagan.
“Good morning,” said Albiorix. He studied the man carefully for any sign of ghostly possession: strange movements, odd smells, drooling.
“So, why are you here?” said Flanagan.
“Well, obviously I wanted to wish you a good morning.” Albiorix studied him further.
Several more seconds passed. Flanagan cleared his throat. “Okay,” he said. “You did that.”
“And I just wanted to give you my host family’s new phone number,” said Albiorix. “As per your request.”
Albiorix recited Devis’s mobile number. The thief had readily agreed to impersonate Albiorix’s host mom on the phone, should the need arise. Honestly, it was the kind of thing Devis lived for.
Flanagan grunted as he jotted the number down. “All right,” he said. “Thanks.”
Albiorix stared him. “So how was your weekend, sir? Did anything . . . exciting happen?”
Flanagan glowered. “Exciting? Armando, I have no idea what you’re getting at.”
“Can I just do a quick word association with you?” said Albiorix.
“No,” said Flanagan.
Still, Albiorix pressed it. “If I said, ‘A realm without magic. It shall . . . blank.’ How would you complete that statement?”
“I would complete it by saying, ‘Get out of my office,’” said Flanagan, now visibly irritated. “There’s no time for foolishness. I have work to do, and so do you.”
“Yes, sir,” said Albiorix. And the wizard stood to go.
“Hi, I’m Dave Pittman, and my main deal is, like, the cafeteria food should be better. Or whatever.” Dave shrugged and took his seat.
“Okay, very interesting,” said Ms. Chapman.
The combined eighth-grade class—meaning Mr. Gutierrez’s, Ms. Chan’s, and Ms. Chapman’s homerooms—sat in the JADMS auditorium as they listened to the closing statements for all their presidential candidates. So far, Albiorix wasn’t impressed with the competition.
“Next up, we have Nicole Davenport,” said Ms. Chapman.
Nicole took the stage and flashed the assembly a radiant smile.
“Hi, I’m Nicole and I’m not going to waste your time. You all know why I should win. But here is my campaign promise to you: If you vote for me, I will personally heart up to three photos you post online. From my main account.”
A gasp ran through the crowd, followed by applause.
“Thanks!” said Nicole. “Love you!” She took a quick stage selfie and returned to her seat.
“Hmm,” said Ms. Chapman. “And last, but certainly not least, we have Olivia Gorman.”
Olivia took the dais and shuffled some notecards. Then she delivered a statement in the practiced monotone of her morning announcements. “Hello, eighth graders. I’m Olivia Gorman, and a vote for me is a vote for responsible leadership. I promise to serve as a levelheaded liaison between Titan students and faculty. I assure you, I will advocate for your interests, within reason, to the best of my ability. Thank you. GO-livia.”
Albiorix
, Thromdurr, and Devis clapped loudly, while very few others did.
“Well then,” said Ms. Chapman. “Without further ado, it is time for the main event.”
Mr. Gutierrez wheeled out a green chalkboard, while Ms. Chan placed a cardboard ballot box on the stage.
“Eighth graders,” said Ms. Chapman. “It is now time to choose your—”
“Excuse me, Ms. Chapman,” said Albiorix, raising his hand.
“Yes, Armando?” said Ms. Chapman.
“May I deliver a statement too?”
“Are you running for class president?” said Ms. Chapman.
“Yes?” said Albiorix.
Ms. Chapman looked at the other eighth-grade homeroom teachers. They shrugged and nodded.
“Okay,” said Ms. Chapman. “Let’s hear your pitch, Armando.”
Albiorix took the stage and cleared his throat. “Not many of you know me. And those who do refer to me as ‘New Kid.’”
“They should call you New Haircut,” yelled Devis. “Because that’s what you need!”
The entire assembly laughed.
“Can you not heckle me, please?” said Albiorix.
“Is that what your mom said when the doctor handed you to her?” yelled Devis.
Another laugh.
“Stinky, stop!” cried Albiorix.
“Sorry,” said Devis.
“Anyway,” said Albiorix. “I am new here: new to this school; new to this town; new to this land. Where I come from, we don’t even choose our leaders by voting!”
“Wait. I thought you came from Canada,” said Ms. Chapman.
Albiorix ignored her and pressed on. “Yet as an outsider, I feel that I can judge this race with a clear and objective eye. And I firmly believe the best candidate for eighth-grade class president is Olivia Gorman. So I hereby withdraw my own candidacy, which I just declared, and throw all my support to her!”
The class largely looked confused. June looked like she might burst out laughing. Nicole was glaring at Albiorix as if she might be able to melt him with her eyes. Beside her, Sorrowshade—who had now completely abandoned her dark loner clothes in favor of preppy popular girl attire—was unreadable.
The wizard continued. “Other candidates have offered you unrealistic promises or even bribes for your vote. But only Olivia has articulated a smart, pragmatic vision for the future of this class. And if you vote Olivia, I’ll give you a free pack of peanut-butter crackers from the vending machine—”
“All right. Sit down, Armando,” said Ms. Chapman.
Armando sighed and took his seat. His speech had not been quite as rousing as he’d hoped. It was up to the gods now.
At this point, the homeroom teachers passed out ballots. Every student wrote the name of his or her preferred candidate. One by one, they walked to the front and dropped their slip into the ballot box. After a few minutes, everyone had cast their vote.
“Okay, time to tally them up and see who wins,” said Ms. Chapman. “This is almost too exciting!” She dumped out the ballot box and picked up one of the paper slips.
“One vote for Olivia Gorman,” said Ms. Chapman.
Mr. Gutierrez made a tally mark on the chalkboard. Ms. Chapman reached for another ballot.
Contrary to the spirit of the game, some Homerooms & Hall Passes players may attempt to cheat. Someone who fudges their dice rolls or lies to the Hall Master about abilities can ruin everyone’s fun. If you catch a player cheating, don’t be afraid to call them out forcefully and tell them to stop. If they persist after such a warning, consider having a wizard cast a mantle of truth on the offending player before the next game session begins.
—Excerpt from The Hall Master’s Guide
“TWO VOTES FOR OLIVIA,” said Ms. Chapman.
Mr. Gutierrez made another mark on the board. Albiorix was on the edge of his seat. Thromdurr looked hopeful. Devis winked. June played Oink Pop.
At sixty-seven votes for Olivia Gorman, the race was called. She had received over fifty percent of the vote and so would be the new eighth-grade class president. Ms. Chapman and the other homeroom teachers congratulated her. Olivia was beside herself with joy. Albiorix was ecstatic too. Perhaps his speech had been rousing after all, just the thing to push her over the edge? GO-livia!
By the time there had been one hundred votes counted for Olivia, the atmosphere of the assembly had darkened considerably. Students whispered among themselves. Teachers gave each other knowing looks. Olivia looked scared. Nicole looked furious. Devis winked.
When the one hundred thirty-second, and final, vote was counted (“Olivia Gorman”), Ms. Chapman addressed the assembly.
“Ahem. It appears that Olivia has received one hundred percent of the votes cast,” said Ms. Chapman.
“Yay!” said Devis.
An instant later, the assembled students erupted in disbelief. Olivia burst out crying. Albiorix shook his head.
The assembly was dismissed. As the students made their way back to class, the adventurers (minus Sorrowshade, of course) talked in hushed tones as they walked.
“What happened in there?” hissed Albiorix.
“I thought whoever got the most votes won?” said Devis. The thief looked baffled. “I don’t get what everybody is so hung up about.”
“Perhaps getting too many votes is a bad thing,” said Thromdurr. “The way eating one mutton shank is delicious, but ten can cause a slight stomachache.”
“Getting too many votes is a bad thing when none of your opponents even voted for themselves,” said Albiorix.
“Wait. They can do that?” said Devis. “That feels a little embarassing, no?”
Albiorix shook his head. “Devis, please tell me you didn’t secretly switch out all the ballots?”
“Albiorix,” said Devis, “I didn’t secretly switch out the ballots.”
“Are you lying?” said Albiorix.
“Yes,” said Devis. “Of course I switched the ballots. So Olivia would win!”
“Well, the way you did it was highly suspicious,” said Albiorix.
“Look, I don’t know how democracy is supposed to work!” said Devis. “My deal is sneaking around and stealing stuff and that’s what I did, because your plan was a dud!”
“My plan was a dud?” said Albiorix. “My plan was to get Nicole out of the race, but when I checked, all my Homerooms & Hall Passes books had been stolen. Was that you too?”
“How dare you!” said Devis, stopping in his tracks. “I would never steal from a party member.”
“You stole seven copper pieces from me when first we met,” said Thromdurr.
“As a joke!” said Devis. “You want it back?” The thief reached into his pocket.
“Yes,” said Thromdurr.
“Well . . . I spent it. Also as a joke,” said Devis. “Bought these.” He pulled out a pair of spectacles with googly eyes painted on them. He put them on. “Pretty funny, right?”
“Yes!” said Thromdurr, with a chuckle. “Coin well spent!”
“Guys, focus,” said Albiorix. “Books aside, Devis, if anyone finds out you rigged the election, you will be in big trouble.”
“How big?” said Devis. “Are we talking warning and a fine or they chop off a hand or—”
“I don’t know. Something like this is a violation of the school’s code of conduct,” said Albiorix. “Why can’t we seem to stay out of trouble?”
“Because we live bold lives, my friend,” said Devis. “Anyway, nobody is ever going to figure it out. We just sit tight, wait for things to cool off. They can’t pin anything on us. There’s no proof. Ooh, except these.”
Devis pulled a handful of paper slips—the real ballots—out of his pocket.
“Put those back!” hissed Albiorix.
Devis did. “Fine, fine. Look, we faced the Serpent of Transhoon together. I think we can handle keeping a little secret among—”
“Hello, Devis the thief, Thromdurr the barbarian, Vela the paladin, and Albiorix the wizard!” called Ju
ne, from behind the party. “Wait up!”
The adventurers stopped and stared at her, dumbfounded. June grinned. They turned to look at Albiorix.
“Okay, yes, I may have, uh, told her everything,” said Albiorix.
“He sure did. Are you guys, like, doing a quest right now?” said June. “Are you on your way to go beat up Zaz—”
“Nope!” said Albiorix, shooting her a look. “We’re just headed to class at the moment. That’s all. Class.”
June squinted but, to Albiorix’s relief, made no further mention of the warlock.
“Well, June, since you apparently know our true identities,” said Thromdurr, “do you have any questions for a battle-hardened berserker of the Sky Bear clan?”
“I do,” said June. “How do you get your hair so shiny?”
“Ah! I brush it daily with rare oils from the Floating Isle of Ulvaria,” said Thromdurr. “Thank you for asking, June. None in my party have ever complimented its alluring sheen.”
“No problem,” said June.
“So,” said Devis, “some crazy election results back there, huh?”
June laughed. “Yeah. You guys clearly pulled something.”
“What?” said Devis. “Well, I never—”
“Is it that obvious we had something to do with it?” said Albiorix.
“Oh, yes,” said June. “You four are basically the only people who wanted Olivia to win and then Albiorix gave that weird speech and then she received a hundred percent of the vote. That’s more than third-world dictators get.”
“Ugh,” said Albiorix. “How do we fix this mess?”
“Why don’t you ask your paladin,” said June, “which is ‘a knight renowned for heroism and chivalry’? Yep, I looked it up.”
The adventurers turned to Vela, who had thus far remained silent.
“As an oath breaker, I can only say that dishonor breeds dishonor,” said the paladin. “Lies beget lies. There is no way out of the web. We are doomed.”
“Yikes,” said June.
“Eh, I guess somebody has to be the Sorrowshade,” said Devis.
“Vela’s been like this for a little while,” said Albiorix, “ever since she told a very, very minor fib.”
“I am utterly disgraced,” said Vela.
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