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"Call the Sparks," she said. "Letthem sort out this damned mess."
5: LOCAL BOYS
Opal had no direct way of contacting Spark Royal; she could only relay a
message through Governor Niome in Feliss City. While Annah helped Opal write a
note, I went to fetch the school's emergency courier a seventeen-year-old with
the unfortunate name of Wallace Wallace. He was a strapping local farm boy
from a strapping local farm, the latest in a line of Wallace Wallaces
stretching back two centuries to an ancestor with an unfortunate sense of
humor. Like most of his predecessors, the newest Wallace Wallace swore he'd
never burden his own son with such a ridiculous name... but considering how
consistently his forefathers had surrendered to the weight of tradition, I
wondered if our own Wallace-squared would stick to his resolve.
Perhaps he would. This Wallace had a distinction that set him apart from
previous generations: a full scholarship at Feliss Academy. He'd earned his
place through brains and discipline, not parental wealth. Each year the
academy accepted a few exceptional teenagers from the Simka district, without
charging a cent for tuition or board. Partly this was a ploy to placate people
in the region by helping their best and brightest. Bringing in
smart-and-hungry kids also increased energy levels in our classrooms, which
otherwise would be populated by well-bred but second-rate plodders who'd grown
accustomed to depending on family largesse rather than their own initiative.
Added to that, our normal (i.e., rich) students benefited from having
floormates who knew the seedier aspects of town which tattooists used clean
needles, which butcher shops sold the best lamb's-skin for condoms, which
herbalists kept a supply of jinkweed hidden under the counter. Lastly, the
school liked having a few spare hands who could be called upon to run errands
in crises... like riding to Feliss City with a message for the governor. It
was Wallace's turn to answer the call, which is why I fumbled my way through
the pitch-dark corridors and tapped on his door.
He answered immediately... holding a candle and flashing a triumphant grin.
The grin faltered instantly. "Dr. Dhubhai!" he said with a surprised yelp.
"Expecting someone else?" I asked.
"No, no," he answered in a transparent lie. "No, no," he said again, in case
I missed his guilt the first time.
Considering the circumstances, I didn't have time to interrogate the boy...
but my teacherly instincts couldn't help wondering which of our female
students Wallace had expected to find knocking at his door. I couldn't
remember seeing him with anyone in particular. Then again, the girl might want
to keep their relationship secret; snooty elements of the student body
considered kids like Wallace to be "peasant charity cases" and would
mercilessly snub any high-born girl who sullied herself with a "barnyard
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beau." Plenty of girls would still fall for Wallace's charms he was a smart,
pleasant kid, good-looking in a fresh-from-the-cow-pen way but the stigma of
his "commoner" background might make a blue-blooded belle keep her feelings
out of the public eye. The result: she'd sneak into Wallace's room at 2:00
A.M. rather than openly neck with him behind the stables. To be honest, I
didn't much care if Wallace conducted a discreet cuddle session with some
duchess/countess/heiress... but a horrid possibility crossed my mind.
"Just tell me," I said, "you weren't waiting for Rosalind Tzekich."
"Rosalind? Of course not. She's taken."
"Who took her?"
"Sebastian."
By which he could only mean Sebastian Shore, another local boy: son of a
successful metalsmith, prosperous by Simka standards but nowhere near the
wealth of most students in our academy. Sebastian was a quiet sixteen-year-old
who excelled in class but seldom socialized with his peers. He lived in his
own head, having little contact with the world around him. When I thought
about it, Sebastian might click perfectly with Rosalind Tzekich: both were
self-isolated dreamers, staring out that classroom window.
"Doctor," said Wallace, "was there something you wanted?"
I shook off my reverie. "You're the courier on call, aren't you?"
He nodded, not looking happy about it.
"Then get dressed," I said. "You're going to Governor Niome, so wear
something respectable. Something warm too it's cold in the open wind. When
you're ready, go to the kitchen and pack food for the trip. Then see the
chancellor in her room. Got it?"
"Chancellor's room. Yes, sir." Wallace's face had brightened considerably; on
the downside, he was going to miss his midnight tryst... but a jaunt to see
the governor obviously struck him as acceptable compensation. He could take
one of the school's best horses, see the famous Feliss Government House (home
of the largest prison system in the world), and enjoy some time on his own.
The city was a good ten hours' ride from Simka maybe more, depending how snowy
the roads were. Wallace would have a pleasant adventure to brag about to his
friends when he got home.
"Get going," I told him. "The chancellor will expect you in... oh, twenty
minutes." That would give Wallace time to get dressed and packed, plus (if he
was smart) a few minutes to write a note apologizing to whichever girl he was
standing up.
I've never liked ruining my students' love-lives.
I started back to the chancellor and Annah... then changed my mind and headed
for the room of Sebastian Shore. If Sebastian had been close to Rosalind,
perhaps he'd visited her earlier in the evening. Perhaps he'd seen something
unusual in her room, some indication of an intruder. And perhaps (the thought
made me shudder), he was lying dead in his bed with white curds dribbling from
his nose. If Rosalind had been infected and Sebastian had kissed her
good-night...
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I didn't want another corpse on our hands.
Even if Sebastianhadn't been infected, the next few minutes wouldn't be
pleasant. I'd have to tell the boy his sweetheart was dead. As a don, I wasn't
a stranger to giving students bad news over the years, there'd been several
occasions where I'd had to sit down with someone and say, "We've received a
letter from your home..." but this was the first time I'd have to tell one of
my charges about the death of a fellow student. For a moment, I hesitated [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]