Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Cori Deaththorn, Part 2

Nothing happened for a moment. No one moved. Mark knocked again, uncertainly.

“I don’t think he’s home,” said Mark slowly. Sam snorted. “He told us to meet him at three exactly. He’s never late. You probably just didn’t knock hard enough or something.”

Sam pounded on the door. “Hellooo?” he shouted. “Is anyone home?” Nothing.

Cori felt chills. She pushed the door open roughly. “Headmaster Ambrose?”

Inside the study it was dark and empty. The light from outside lit up only a part of the room. There was a stack of unopened envelopes and paper on his desk, and the wind made them rustle dangerously.

“Where are they?” Sam was dumbstruck. “They never leave the…”

“Quickly, children,” said a familiar voice behind them. They spun around to face Headmaster Ambrose, who was looking panic-stricken. “Into the observatory—oh dear, my goodness—we haven’t any time—no time to even accept any student applications—hurry! Into the observatory!” He ushered Mark, Cori and Sam into the dark space.

“What’s happening?” asked Sam loudly as Professor Ambrose closed the door behind him. “A matter of great importance,” said Professor Ambrose, fumbling around with the locks. Gamma, who was sitting on his regular perch, hooted.

“Great, indeed,” said Gamma worriedly.

“What’s happening?” asked Sam again, louder this time.

“Great disturbances in Wizard City,” tutted Merle Ambrose. “And not just here, they report it’s in all the rest of the worlds, too. Great forces of undead are arriving everywhere. We need Professor Malistaire back more than ever to control them. There’s even been a gobbler invasion in Colossus Boulevard, for heaven’s sake, and we need someone to control all this. I’m afraid without Professor Malistaire’s help we are rather helpless. ”

“Then let’s go right now!” said Sam eagerly.

“How are we going to convince him to come back though?” asked Cori hesitantly.

“I know Professor Malistaire,” said Professor Ambrose firmly. “I’ve worked by his side for years. And if there’s anything to know about him, he is a calm, benevolent man. The grief over losing Sylvia Drake must have been terrible—” Here, Cori’s heart contracted “—and he lashed out in grief. By now he should be calmed down, however, and able to think rationally. Tell him that the school needs him to come back and Sylvia would not have wanted him to do this in her name. Sylvia would want him to come back and help the school. Now,” said Professor Ambrose, pulling out a key out of his numerous pockets, “here. Take this key.”

He placed it in Cori’s hands. It was a plain silver, but where the loop at the top was there was a metal dragon’s head, blowing out red flame. Cori felt uncertain.

“Why us?” she asked.

“Because you three are among my favorite students, as well as Malistaire’s,” said Professor Ambrose with faith.

Sam and Mark grinned. “You’re not so bad yourself, old man,” said Mark.

Professor Ambrose smiled fondly at him.

“Now, come along children, we must hurry. Meet up inside Bartleby and look for Professor Malistaire in Dragonspyre. He’s most likely there, inside the house he built for him and Sylvia. Come along now,” he said, and ushered them out the door.

Mark, Cori, and Sam all hurried out of the observatory and walked through the tunnel that led to Ravenwood.

“Watch your step,” said Mark, keeping a hand on Cori’s shoulder.

“Mark, I’ve walked through this tunnel a million times. I’m not going to fall or any—”

Cori stumbled, but Mark caught her just in time.

“Careful,” repeated Mark, smiling lazily.

“Can’t you two stop flirting with each other for one second?” whimpered Sam.

Sam still wasn’t over Angela, then.

“We’re not,” assured Cori. “Or, at least, I’m not. It’s all right, Sam,” she said comfortingly, and patted his head awkwardly.

The tunnel ended and Ravenwood came into view. They stood stock-still for a few seconds—the pavilion was completely empty. It was such a rare sight that none of them had ever seen it this way. A guest of wind rustled and a green leaf flew along with it.

Bartleby’s nose twitched. “Welcome,” he said, chuckling. “I’ve been so lonely the past few days that I thought I was going insane when I saw you three.”

“Oh, don’t fret, Bartleby,” sighed Blossom, the life school tree, in her high, dreamy and soft voice, “You still have all of us other school trees.”

Torrence the storm tree heaved a great big sigh, but all the other school trees agreed.

While the trees all talked about the upcoming fall, Cori, Mark, and Sam all slipped inside Bartleby.

“The trees sure have gotten chattier,” mumbled Mark.

“They’re lonely,” said Cori, leading the way toward the gate in the middle of the round circular room inside Bartleby. No matter how many times she entered this room she could never get over how beautiful it was; the walls were Bartleby’s bark; there were majestic yellow-and-green-trim rugs and tapestry draped everywhere; the ceilings were high, swooping; and best of all, soft golden sunlight came from the roof and formed a circle of light onto the door, raised by a small stump that was led by the rugged stairs, while gentle green leaves cascaded slowly onto the floor.

Cori stuck the key in the lock, twisted it, and the key dissolved into floating light specks that drifted to the ceiling. She tugged open the door to reveal a dark void that swirled in an oval. In it there floated small specks that were the worlds of the Spiral.

“Come on,” said Cori, and walked inside.

She felt like she was passing through a big plate of jelly, only much more softer. When she passed through, she was in Dragonspyre. The first thing that popped to her mind was that it was warm and humid.

“Cool,” said Sam in awe, looking around. Over the horizon, a giant meteor was arching throughout the sky like a shooting star.

“It’s too hot,” said Mark and Cori at the same time. They glanced at each other.

“It’s perfect,” said Sam dreamily. He rolled up his sleeves and waved his arms around, soaking up the humidity.

“Why are we friends again?” asked Mark.

Sam ignored him and soaked in all the sights. The buildings, Cori had to admit, were pretty majestic, if a bit drab. They were all high and well thought-out, but all made out of the same boring stone material. To make up for it, there were random pools and waterfalls of lava all over, the way regular parks would have pools of water.

“This is my favorite world, ever,” said Sam matter-of-factly. Then he added, “I love this world. Why can’t I marry it?”

“Remind me to think up of a witty reply later,” said Mark, “but for now, we need to look for a house with a melodramatic grieving man in it.”

Cori laughed but said, “That’s no way to show respect to your teacher.”

“I’m a level 48, so I’m almost done with the old geezer anyway.”

Cori looked at him in disbelief. “What…” Mark’s face clouded over. His normally happy, cheery expression was replaced with a stony one. Cori looked away quickly. “Never mind,” she said.

“Why don’t we try looking in the nicer part of town?” suggested Sam, oblivious to their reactions. He was looking at the map that all students were required to carry around in their backpacks. Cori, however, had lost hers a long time ago and hadn’t bothered to ask for another one.

Mark pulled out his. “According to this map, courtesy of Ravenwood Schools, that’s…on the farther side of…here.” He pointed to the black X that indicated where they were. “We have to walk a while.”

“Follow me,” instructed Mark. “I know this world a lot better than you guys do, and I’m familiar with the terrain.”

They followed Mark through bridges over gaping chasms of lava, through tunnels and through winding sidewalks.

Finally, they rounded a corner and Mark said, “Here we are: The epitome of Dragonspyre society.” He flourished an arm over the fancy mansions and bowed.

“Which one is Malistaire’s, though?” said Cori, looking around.

“We can find it,” assured Mark.

“But I think we should really ask for directions.”

“We don’t need help,” protested Sam.

“What is it with men and asking directions?” demanded Cori, and she walked toward a woman who looked like she’d stepped out of a Dragonspyre fashion magazine.

Sam and Mark looked uncertainly at each other and shrugged.

“Excuse me, madam,” said Cori politely, “but do you know where the Malistaire residence is?”

The woman, who had been smiling serenely, suddenly looked scared. “The Malistaire residence? What business have you there, little girl?”

“We’re looking for Professor Malistaire, on Headmaster Ambrose’s orders,” explained Cori. “Have you heard of the recent incident in Ravenwood?”

“Of course I have, dear child, and that’s exactly why you must not approach it!” The woman’s lip quavered. “If you children”—she looked at where Mark and Sam were standing—“know what’s good for you, then you’ll stay clear away from that house. I urge you to stay far, far away! Not even the Draconians dare approach it right now.”

“But why?”  asked Cori.

“Malistaire’s wrath, of course! Who knows what other mad acts that man will commit? Now, I refuse to speak of this anymore,” she said shrilly. “Please, go along your own way and don’t go looking for trouble.”

The lady walked briskly away, looking shaken-up.

Mark walked up to Cori. “What’s her problem?”

“Professor Malistaire probably would never hurt a fly,” agreed Sam, already walking ahead. “Told you we didn’t need help. Let’s just check all the houses and cross our fingers.”

At first, they asked a few other people for directions, but they all had the same reaction as the first woman they’d asked. They all ended with the same warning:

“Don’t go looking for trouble!”

So, they spent the next half an hour walking from door to door, knocking or using the knocker if the house was especially fancy. After they’d checked almost all the houses but four, they were feeling almost irritable and about ready to give up.

“Come on, there’s only four houses left,” said Cori cheerfully. “It’s bound to be one of them.”

The first house they checked didn’t answer, the second was home to a gruff-looking poodle who’d moved in from Marleybone, and the third’s owner chased them away with a gruff-looking heckhound that looked like it would bite off the head of the nearest living thing it got its hands on.

Finally, that left one house left. It was the fanciest on the street, maybe even the whole neighborhood. It was elegant and refined and expertly decorated and built to blend in with the surroundings, and yet it stood out at the same time, too.

Mark walked up to it and pounded on the giant brass knocker. He waited a bit, and when there was no reply he pounded harder. “Hello?” he bellowed. “Is anyone home?”

There was the sound of locks being opened and then the door opened. The next moment Professor Malistaire was looking calmly at them. “Yes?” he said, in his quiet, reserved voice. “What can I do to help you children?”

Cori felt chills going down her back. She couldn’t understand it. Professor Malistaire was the same as he always was, mild-mannered, quiet and polite. He looked exactly the same. But it seemed to Cori there was something different about his eyes.

“Professor Malistaire!” said Sam, grinning. “Could we come in?”

“Sorry to intrude,” added Mark politely, folding his hands behind his back.

Cori didn’t say anything. She tried to calm down and thought about the past.

While Sylvia was still alive, Cori used to always come over to her house in Wizard City. Sylvia had a gorgeous, beautiful garden that Malistaire had built for her. It had taken months, and it was all hand-done, but it was a labor of love and well worth it in the end. It was invigorating being out in the fresh air surrounded by beautiful plants, flowers and landscaping.

Cori and Sylvia would sit in the small garden in chairs and talk and eat and have picnics on the table in between the chairs. The table had a nice parasol attached to it and that would provide them shade. They would often nibble on Sylvia’s home-made cookies (lemon were Sylvia’s favorite) and sip lemonade and talk about trivial things or life studies or books.

Sometimes Professor Malistaire would join them, smiling and eating a cookie or two and always listening politely. He didn’t talk much, but he adored it when his wife did. He was a bit reserved, but Sylvia knew just how to bring him out of his shell and make him talk with them. Cori always liked having Professor Malistaire join, because he was always nice and polite and listened to what you had to say whether it was interesting or not.

Cori would always help Sylvia with her gardening, and even Professor Malistaire joined in from time to time, crouching down and getting dirt on his knees and planting a flower.

Those were the happy days. Reliving it made Cori feel a bit sad, but at least now she wasn’t as afraid of Professor Malistaire. It comforted her re-imagining him potting a flower and remembering that Professor Malistaire was nice.

She tried her best at a smile. Professor Malistaire returned it, although it was sad.

“No, it’s no problem at all. Please, come in.”

Professor Malistaire invited them in into the dining room, where he insisted they sit down. “Would you like any refreshments? Tea, perhaps, and some…lemon cookies?”

“That would be great, thank you,” said Mark.

While Professor Malistaire went off to the kitchen to prepare the tea and cookies, Sam, Cori and Mark whispered to each other in hushed voices, leaning toward each other.  

“What are we supposed to say?” hissed Cori.

“I thought that was your job,” protested Sam.

“I can’t think of how to start. The guy misses his wife but we need him to come back to his job. How do you phrase that delicately while you make sure he doesn’t snap?”

“Oh, I don’t know, how about, ‘Hey, Professor Malistaire, we need you to come back to a school you hate doing a job you hate surrounded by kids you hate and need you to do a whole bunch of work,’” said Mark sarcastically.

“What’s your problem with Professor Malistare?” demanded Cori.

“I don’t have—”

“I apologize for making you wait,” said Professor Malistaire, entering the room. He was carrying a silver tray with plates of lemon cookies and saucers filled with tea. “I wasn’t expecting any visitors today.”

Cori, Sam and Mark’s heads all snapped up.

“It’s—uh—fine,” said Cori. “Sorry for intruding on you so suddenly like this.”

Sam elbowed Cori in the ribs and snickered. “Where’d all the manners suddenly come from?”

Professor Malistaire raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.

He set down the tray on the coffee table. “Please, help yourselves,” he insisted.

Cori took two lemon cookies while Sam and Mark squabbled over the rest. She also took a cup of tea and tried her best to swallow it down without looking conspicuous. Dimly she wondered if Sam would bother taking one because she knew he didn’t like tea either. Mark, on the other hand, she wasn’t sure about.

Sam didn’t go near the tea, instead raising his eyebrows at Cori, but Mark took long gulps of it and when he was done, wiped his mouth with a napkin and said, “Thank you. That was delicious.”

Malistaire nodded. “Green tea, a special recipe from MooShu. Sylvia brought it one day and it’s all w—I’ve been drinking ever since.”

Of course, thought Cori. Sylvia got her tea addictions from spending her days in MooShu.

“So,” said Malistaire, folding his hands, “what brings you three here today?”

“Um, uh, Headmaster Ambrose says that he needs you back,” said Cori.

Professor Malistaire was calm. “What for?”

“Well, there’s been trouble across the spiral, and in Wizard City with the undead…and we need your help to get rid of them…and then there’s of course the death school to teach…”

“I’m sorry,” said Professor Malistaire. “But I’m afraid I’m not coming back.”

Cori gulped. “Why not? When will you come back?”

“I’m afraid never, my dear,” said Professor Malistaire. “There is no joy for me in teaching at the Ravenwood School of Magical Arts anymore.”

“But what about the death lessons? And what about the undead?” pleaded Cori. She couldn’t imagine a better death teacher than Professor Malistaire, to be honest. He was always patient whenever you made a mistake and was great at explaining clearly to help you understand.

“My silly little girl,” said Professor Malistaire. “Let me tell you something.”

Cori felt her blood go cold.

“I’m sure you must have heard the rumors of poor old, crazy Malistaire by now,” he said in a biting tone. “Gossip. It spreads like wildfire in this world.

“Do you see all the undead walking the streets at this very moment? I made them. I brought them here. I gave them the power to live and to create chaos. Me. I did it.”

Cori didn’t react, but she saw Mark and Sam suck in their breath. She sat there, stony-faced, clenching her fists.

He waved an arm in the direction of the window.

“Soon,” he said, “my forces will take over Wizard City. Krokotopia. Marleybone. MooShu. Dragonspyre. I will rule all of the Spiral, and nothing can stop me, especially not a doddering old fool like Ambrose.”

Malistaire calmly took another sip of tea. He glanced out the window, and looked as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

He set down the tea cup on his saucer and lay it down gently on the table.

“I think,” he said, “it would be best if you children left now.”

“But, who will teach the Death lessons?” blubbered Sam, whose third school was in Death. Cori knew it was a stupid question—Malistaire wouldn’t be coming back, ever—but she knew they were all still in shock, slowly absorbing everything in. Malistaire. Had everything been an act, all these years? Was he truly this demented? Or was he simply mad from the loss of his wife? Cori could feel her head pounding.

“I believe dear old Dworgyn will,” said Malistaire coolly. “If you would so kindly leave the saucers and cups here, I will pick up after them. Feel free to take a few more cookies with you to go. And have a nice day.”

Without a word, Cori, Sam and Mark all got up and walked to the front door. They exited and Sam closed the door behind them.

Without a word, they all walked down the winding paths and roads, keeping to the sidewalk.

“So,” said Cori to Mark as they were walking, to break the silence, “you really like green tea?”

“What? No. I hate it,” said Mark.

“Then why’d you—”

“I was trying to be polite. Besides, it’s better to get it over with quickly with big gulps than a lot of small little sips,” he advised.

Cori wondered if he’d had a lot of practice swallowing drinks he didn’t like.

Mark seemed bitter and brooding. Sam seemed glum, not at all his cheery self. Cori felt bleak. What would they tell Headmaster Ambrose? Malistaire was a traitor. He had caused all this.

Quiet, kind, polite Malistaire.

The rest of the walk down was silent, with no one attempting to talk or make any noise at all aside from the occasional scuffling of the feet. They hardly met anyone along the way, and if they did see the occasional man or woman, he or she was usually scurrying away and into the safety of their homes.

When they got to the Forum, it was deserted.

“What…are we going to do?” said Cori to no one in particular.

Mark looked at her. “What do you mean, what are we going to do?” He sounded almost accusatory.

“I don’t know,” she snapped. “But…I…” Cori stared down at the ground. I what? What was she thinking? She didn’t even know herself.

Sam looked between Mark and Cori, who were almost glaring at each other, uncomfortably.

“Uh,” he said, “hey, guys, we’re all just a little tense because of the Malistaire thing. How ‘bout we all just tell Headmaster Ambrose as fast as we can and get it over with, then get some lemonade or something? Anyone?”

Cori and Mark both glared at him, and Sam flinched back.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

When they’d gotten to the Commons, everyone could feel the tension in the air. In Headmaster Ambrose’s office, Headmaster Ambrose was waiting for them eagerly. He stood up from behind his desk, pushing his chair away.

“Any news?” he said, worriedly.

“He’s not coming back,” said Cori flatly. Then, her voice almost cracking, she added, “He’s a traitor, Professor Ambrose. He’s the one who brought all the undead to Wizard City.”

To her surprise, Headmaster Ambrose only looked troubled. His brow furrowed.

“I was…afraid of this,” he muttered.

“You mean you knew?” asked Mark. “This whole time?”

“I had only suspicions,” Headmaster Ambrose replied. “And even they were fleeting. What did he say?”

“He said he was going to take over the Spiral,” said Sam. “And that no one was going to stop him.”

“Dark times…dark times indeed…”

Headmaster Ambrose heaved a great sigh. “Well, things have stabilized somewhat in Wizard City. We are sending out competent Novices to deal with the dark forces in Unicorn Way—if any good is to come out of this at all, at least more students will be able to get hands-on experience.”

Headmaster Ambrose had been pacing the whole time, and now he returned to his desk, shuffling some papers. “Anthony Dreadful…new student…”

Well, children,” said Headmaster Ambrose, “you have done an excellent job and while the results weren’t what we wanted, I’m sure you tried your hardest. As a reward you all will receive 1,250 experience each.”

He filled out three slips, pausing once to bite on the end of the quill, and handed each of them one.

“Thanks,” they echoed. Sam happily stuffed the note into his pocket while Mark carefully pocketed his. Cori held on to hers.

"You may all leave now. I’m afraid there’s not much we can do about this now but wait.”

And so everyone departed for their dorms, leaving Headmaster Ambrose scribbling away and working furiously through the student applications at his desk.

 

--------

 

Okay, really sucky and short chapter, I know, and it took me like FIVE months to finish! That’s almost a half a year! Really, really, unacceptable. I’m so sorry guys/nonexistent audience. I feel horrible.

I worked on it sporadically and I went through writing phases where I tried to write down as much as I could all the time, but for the most part it sat untouched inside my laptop. Don’t worry, though, because lately I’ve gotten tons of ideas and I’ll be writing a lot more and posting up the parts a lot faster now, promise! Once every few weeks doesn’t seem that bad. Honestly, I’ve got a lot of ideas I wanted to write down and show the casual and fun side of being a wizard (like buying a new house or a new pet!) that I just wanted to get this stupid chapter over with already. So I pulled a Cori Deaththorn and ended the chapter really abruptly, just like last time. I pinky-swear-honest-to-goodness I won’t ever do this again though. So…until later!

 

P.S.: Also, in case you haven’t noticed (which you probably didn’t because it’s actually super boring) after browsing through a few more blogs (*cough*SierraWinterbreeze*cough**cough*SarahSpiritheart*cough*) I’ve actually grown quite fond of Arial, even though I was kind of reluctant towards it at first XD