Cori Deaththorn (Old Version)

Edit: August 14, 2014

This is now the old version of the story. Feel free to read it if you want, but the newer version is much, much better, I promise!

The main event and reason for this blog. Here you'll find my Wizard101 fan-fiction in its not-so-glorious glory. I write these just for fun :B


Cori Deaththorn, Part 1


It was a hot, summer day in the Life classroom. Students were lazily daydreaming and resting their heads while Moolinda Wu droned on about the importance of focusing all your energy into a spell; they were going into more advanced magic.

Cori Deaththorn huffed in frustration. She tapped her pencil angrily--violently--against her desk. She had learned this lesson ages ago, albeit with a different teacher. She pushed a stray strand of hair away from her face, only to have it fall back. The heat was extremely irritating, and the sweat didn't help.

She was feeling rebellious. "Professor Wu?" She threw her hand up in the air. Moolinda Wu paused in her speech and looked at her exasperatedly. "Yes, Cori? What is it this time?" She looked ready to drop dead.

"I want Sylvia back." At this Moolinda Wu's eyes flashed with anger. "That's it!" she screeched. "Headmaster's! Now!" Most of the students snapped to attention and were looking between Cori and Moolinda Wu fearfully. No one could make Moolinda Wu lose her zen-like calm. Ever.

No one, that was, except Cori Deaththorn. It was amazing, really, how she knew how to set Moolinda on edge. For one, the Life professor hated any mention of Sylvia Drake, the old Life teacher before her; how the students always wished that Sylvia were back and teaching instead of Moolinda. Most students learned very quickly that to mention Sylvia Drake was to ask for an abrupt end. They steered clear of her in any conversation with Moolinda Wu, but it didn't stop the whispers in the hallways.

Cori calmly got up and walked out of the classroom. The other students peered curiously at her as she walked by them, part awe-struck and part incredulous at her bratty behavior. No one quite knew why she had turned into a "bad kid"--she used to be the star-example of what a student should be.

But they had an inkling. She and Sylvia Drake had been close.

Merle Ambrose looked up from his stack of papers as he heard the door open and chuckled. "Why, if it isn't one of my favorite students." Cori couldn't hold back a smile. Recently, Merle Ambrose was one of the only people she could be herself with.

"Have a seat." He gestured toward the plush velvet seat across his desk. Cori plopped down and made herself comfortable. Recently, she had been coming here a lot.

Professor Ambrose cleared his throat and set his stack of papers aside. "So, tell me, Cori. What did you do this time?" Worry lines creased his forehead. Again, like so many times before, Cori felt a pang of guilt. She shouldn't have been causing all this trouble. It only pained those around her and did nothing for herself, really.

But she was selfish. She needed to let out all the anger and resentment somehow.

She took a deep breath. "Sylvie." Professor Ambrose nodded solemnly and patted Cori's hands with his own large ones. There were tears in his eyes, and in hers too. Sylvia had been dear to both of them. Ambrose sighed and wiped the tears out of his eyes.

"I miss her," whispered Cori. Professor Ambrose shook his head. "I do, too, Cori. But this reckless behavior has got to stop." Cori hung her head. "What good does it do to anyone?"

Ambrose patted her hands. "Please think this over, Cori. Now, if you'll excuse me, I rather have much work to do..."

Cori walked out out feeling strange. There was only an hour left in the school day, anyway, and after that all the students would be bustling out of the school rooms and into various areas of Wizard City.

She walked back to Ravenwood, heading for the girls' dormitory tower. She opened the door and into Room 113. The tower was magically modified so that when you walked in the door you were automatically transferred to your room, instead of having to walk up endless flights of stairs. Besides, the other option of building up posed safety hazards. This also protected privacy and conserved space.

Cori tried to contact her cousin Sam with her standing mirror. She recited a spell and tapped the glass, which caused it to conjure up an image of him. Sam's back was to her, and he was painting something up on his easel. She knew he had been sick today, but from his posture and constant sniffling it seemed that he had gotten worse as the day progressed.

"Sam?" Sam kept on painting. "Sam!" He turned around, alarmed, before he saw that Cori was in his mirror. "Oh. Cori. It's just you." He set his pallet down and took off his barrette, which he wore ridiculously. He looked rather down, she realized. From the streaks on his face it looked like he had been crying.

She could guess what had happened. "Sam," she groaned. "Is it Angela?" Sam turned away, covering his face with his smock. "No."

"I know when you're lying."

"No you don't."

Cori rolled her eyes and petted Charlie, her unicorn, who had scampered over. She sat down on her bed. "Sam, what did she do this time?" she asked angrily. Sam looked down. "It's just...I thought she was different, you know? But then I caught her holding hands with Brian GriffinFist in the Commons again and--"

Samuel Shadowhunter had a rather petty romantic life. It was almost comical, how unfortunate he was in the dating department. He had terrible luck with these things and often would only last for a week with a girlfriend. Cori found it all rather amusing, but sometimes he was genuinely hurt.

Now that Sam was out of the way, she could even see what he had been painting. It was Angela Lifeblossom's portrait, her delicate nose pointing up and her long, blonde hair flowing past her shoulders. She groaned.

Just then her whole dorm started shaking. All her pets squealed and ran frantically for shelter. The mirror was knocked on its side and Cori fell off the bed. "Oomph." She was laying on the floor, and the shaking was so violent she had bounced under the bed. In the mirror she could see Sam running out of his dorm. She crawled out from under the bed and ran outside, wondering what had happened.

Her face drained of color. The sky was a menacing dark gray with purple clouds. Lightning struck everywhere, and multiple severe thunder storms were scattered around the sky. There was a tornado tearing through Ravenwood, shaking all the schools' trees violently, but that wasn't the worst of the problem. Students were screaming and running everywhere. Most retreated to inside Bartleby. Some pushed pass Cori and some other gaping students into the safety of their dorms. Others ran frantically toward the tunnel that lead to the Commons.

She could see why.

Malistaire. She couldn't, however, comprehend what she was seeing. Professor Malistaire, the Death professor, was standing tall up on a piece of land ripped out of the ground that was floating high above the schools' roofs. Lightning surrounding him. He held his staff. There was a steely glint in his eye.

"Merle Ambrose!" he shrieked. His voice was magnified so that it boomed as loud as the thunder. Cori couldn't believe her ears. Quiet, gentle Professor Malistaire. Shrieking at the top of his lungs. Standing on a torn piece of land. Conjuring up storms to destroy Ravenwood. "You have not allowed me to use my power to bring my wife back. You have failed to save her. All of you. All of you! Unworthy of learning Death magic! Imbecilic fools! I swear today that I shall get my vengeance, for me, and for Sylvia. I will come back one day, Ambrose, and until then..."

Cori watched, transfixed, as he raised his staff. Lightning shot out from it and surrounded the Death school. It was torn out of the ground and lifted up into the sky. She fell down from the tremors this caused. She couldn't believe it. She never knew he was this powerful. Powerful, sure. But not enough to destroy everything in Wizard City.

"Malistaire," said a deep, slow, booming voice. "Stop this. You will regret it one day. It will not bring back Sylvia," said Bartleby.

Malistaire scowled from his post. "And you. I never liked you, Bartleby." He raised his clenched hand up and Bartleby's right eye was torn out of its socket and flew into Malistaire's hand. "I'll be keeping this." With one final clap of thunder, Malistaire vanished in a flash of light. Suddenly, all the storms evaporated and stopped. The tornado simply vanished. The Death school was gone. Bartleby's right eye was gone. Malistaire Drake was gone.

Cori Deaththorn fainted.


When she woke up again, it was late afternoon. Orange sunlight streamed in from a window on Cori's right and onto her body in streaks. She groaned and lifted up her right arm to look at it. "What--wha?"

"Sshhh, shhh. Rest," said a soft voice. Cori stirred. She tried to sit up and turn around to her left, but the effort it required was surprising. She gave up halfway and settled for having only her head facing the left and her body slumped slightly to the left.

"Professor Moolinda?"

Professor Moolinda set down a tray of green tea on the end table next to the bed Cori was lying on. "Shh, child. You never knew how to be still." Moolinda smiled wryly. She handed blew on a cup of tea before handing it to Cori. She turned again and took it gratefully, although she'd never liked tea. She nearly sloshed it down her front though, because she was drinking it so eagerly. It felt like she hadn't eaten in days.

She saw Moolinda Wu watching her out of the corner of her eye. She felt embarrassed and humiliated about all she had done to torture her. It was wrong, she knew. Moolinda didn't deserve it. Really, she was nice, gifted even. Cori had always felt a need to hate Moolinda Wu; she couldn't really explain it. But she knew it was illogical. Unreasonable. Unjustified. She had been horrible to Moolinda.

And yet here she was, taking care of her.

I'm sorry, she wanted to say. I'm sorry for all I did to you.

But she couldn't force the words out of her mouth. Instead she had to suffice with looking at Moolinda guiltily out of the corner of her eye.

"What happened?" she asked after she had finished gulping down her tea.

"You fainted, Cori. It's a good thing your cousin and his friend Mark had found you, or else you would have been trampled to death by the panicked students. You're already badly hurt from the tussle that followed the death school's...uprooting. You've been out for three days."

"Oh." Her lips formed the word silently.

"What...what happened after? When Malistaire..."

"The headmaster wants to speak to you about that."

"What about the life lessons? Don't you have to teach?"

"All classes have been canceled and students have been urged to stay home. We're...on high alert, see, in case...well. The headmaster will explain. But the classes have been closed until further notice. Don't worry."

Cori sighed and tried to make herself more comfortable. She wanted to go back to sleep. She was too tired to ask questions, really, although in normal circumstances she would have shooting off questions like bullets.

"Sylvia...was a good friend of mine, you know." Cori's body ached every time she so much as breathed, but she whipped around so fast she dropped her cup. "She was?" she asked, eager to learn more about Sylvia.

"Yes," sighed Moolinda. "She was an old colleague back when we were studying in MooShu. When she visited after she graduated it was always 'Cori this' and 'Cori that.'" Cori felt pleased, secretly, on the inside. "She would always joke around about how I should come down to Wizard City and teach Life. She'd always say that I was going to steal her job someday, or at least take it when she was gone or retired. I just...I never wanted it to be like this.

"But Cori, Sylvia was a remarkable woman who was full of love and optimism. She wouldn't want you to be angry and sad about her death. She would want you to move on and keep on living the rest of your life. With gusto and enthusiasm. Not wallowing away mourning something that will never change."

At this Cori flared up. She turned away angrily and took back every apology she had said in her head. Who was Moolinda Wu to think that she could say what Sylvia would think? Who was she to say how she should deal with Sylvia's death, to disgrace it and put it off as if it was nothing and just go on with her life as if nothing had happened, when in reality something had torn away inside of her? Something deep and irreplaceable.

She felt like smashing the teacup on the floor, but restrained herself by gripping it tightly.

Moolinda seemed to sense her distress and dropped it. "Did Sylvia ever tell you about the time she and Malistaire nearly killed Cyrus Drake?" The corners of Cori's lips twitched up.

They moved on to lighter topics; the next lesson in life class, how everyone was doing, favorite artists, books (they both enjoyed world-renowned author Sarah Spritheart and discussed her upcoming new series) and mostly, Sylvia, Sylvia, Sylvia. Her favorite colors (green and blue), her favorite drink (green tea), her favorite spell (seraph), and books, always books. Something Moolinda, Cori, and Sylvia all had in common was their love of reading.

Cori laughed so much that her ribs hurt (although really they were so delicate right now almost any movement hurt them). Moolinda nearly had tears in her eyes.

They talked for hours, until it was lights-out. Moolinda said good-bye to Cori and turned the lights off. Cori waved weakly and soon was out cold.

When she woke up again, she saw the grinning face of Samuel Shadowhunter peering at her. "Cori!" he cried joyously. Cori blinked groggily. She tried to sit up and saw star bursts popping before her eyes. It was hard to focus, but when her eyes adjusted she could see Sam's friend Mark DarkCaster watching her from a chair next to her bed.

"Wha--what...?" She put a hand to her forehead to keep the world from spinning. She blinked and closed her eyes. When she opened them again the world was clear.

Mark grinned impishly from his seat. "You drool when you sleep." Her face reddened. She looked down quickly at her hands.

Sam ignored him and bounced up and down happily. "Cori, guess what?"

"What," she said flatly. He took no notice of her tone of voice and continued his little dance. "We're going to track down Malistaire!"

She nearly choked. "Wh--what?" She looked at him in disbelief, her face drained of any color. Sam paused and looked at her quizzically. "What's wrong?" he asked. Cori was at a loss for words. How could she explain the feeling of dread at the bottom of her stomach when she could barely understand it herself? She felt a cold, dark fear that made her skin crawl at the prospect of meeting Professor Malistaire again. It was baffling; Professor Malistaire had always been malevolent before this, and she was sure that he had just had a fit out of grief for his wife. It was perfectly understandable, to her.

And yet why was she so scared?

Sam started bouncing again. "Ambrose's picked us to go find Malistaire and talk some sense in to him--you know, bring him back," he said excitedly. Cori felt a rush of relief, although it was small. The color went back in her cheeks. She was aware of Mark watching her intently and was faintly embarrassed--she must have looked like a wreck.

"Why us?" she said faintly. Sam shrugged. "I guess we're his favorites, or Malistaire's, or something. But we get to go to Dragonspyre early!"

Cori wrung her hands nervously. "I don't know..."

Mark smiled lazily, showing his sharp canines. "I can already go to Dragonspyre. It's okay if you guys want to go without me, if my presence is what's bothering you, Cori..." He winked.

Cori blushed furiously. "No, I'll go. Sheesh. When do we have to leave?" She was still sore all over and it would have been a miracle if she could cast an imp. "In an hour," said Sam, grinning widely. He took a seat next to Mark. "Are you kidding me?" she asked in disbelief. "Nope. Want me to help you pack?" asked Mark with a roguish smile. Sam elbowed him. "No hitting on my cousin. Gross." Cori rolled her eyes and sighed. "Am I even allowed out of the hospital?"

Sam nodded eagerly. "They just let you out this morning."

Cori sighed and stepped out of bed onto the cold, hardwood floor. Her feet felt bare and exposed, cold. She stumbled for a little bit and Mark and Sam rushed forward to catch her. She wanted to say thanks, but instead snapped, "I'm fine." She wobbled uncertainly and stumbled again. Mark caught her from behind her and tsked.

"My, my, Cori. At this rate we'll be in Dragonspyre in no time."

She scowled. "Just help me get to my dorm."


Once Cori had changed back into her regular robes, she met up with Sam and Mark in front of Merle Ambrose's house.

Sam greeted her happily. "Cori! There you are!" Mark rolled his eyes. "We've been waiting for forever." Cori resisted the urge to kick him. "Are we going in or what," she grumbled. Mark nodded and knocked on the door. They all waited expectantly.


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.

1 comment:

  1. U ARE AN AMAZING WRITER!!!!! BTW, its Evelyn!! :D BTE (Best Twinsie Ever!)

    ReplyDelete