The Center Green was teeming with students. The moment Katie stepped through the topiary gate, Gwillian grabbed her by the sleeve and plunged into the crush, jostling and shoving her way to the less crowded side of the makeshift stage erected in the exact center of the field. There the four of them made a space for themselves on the cool lawn beneath the shade of a giant topiary dragon and sat back to observe the activity going on around them.
 
“I don’t know why they make everybody attend these foolish shindigs,” grumbled Gwillian. “There’s no point to them.”

“It helps foster camaraderie and school spirit,” said Trinket, who was barely visible against the grass.

“Camaraderie,” sniffed Gwillian. “Half the people here will drop out before mid-term, and the other half are so full of themselves you can barely get past their egos to talk to them.”

“And what about school spirit?” Katie asked.

Gwillian rolled onto her stomach to look at her. “Oh, I love Derring-Do, don’t get me wrong. But you’ll be chucking school spirit out the window after your first week here. Freshman year is tough, Katie. Extremely tough. I barely passed my finals, and I studied nearly every second of every day! And this year will be even harder for us sophomores. We’ll be heading off on our first trial missions.”

“Oh, I can’t wait!” said Ella excitedly. “An entire school year out in the field, all on our own… Just think of the fun we’ll have!”

“Fun?” said Gwillian. “You think it’s going to be fun? Don’t forget, you’ll be dragging your sidekick around with you, and battling it out with your villain…”

“I’m looking forward to doing both,” Ella said in a tone that suggested she was unwilling to bow to Gwillian’s pessimism.

Gwillian harrumphed. “Well I’m not,” she said. “Geremy Broomly is the clumsiest sidekick in the world—and as a villain, Stiggy Valon leaves much to be desired. Honestly! What mother in her right mind names her son ‘Stiggy?’”

“Wait a minute,” said Katie, frowning. “You have sidekicks and villains already?”

Ella nodded. “They’re assigned to you freshman year, during the mid-term prom—provided you pass your exams, that is,” she said.

“But,” said Katie. “Who determines which sidekick and villain goes with whom?”

“The college deans. They place the top scorers from the four schools in one group, the midrange students in another, and the barely passing in a third—and then all they do is sit around and figure out which students would make the best parings in each of these groups.”

“Can you sign up for a specific sidekick or villain?”

Gwillian shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe if you’re a top scorer…”

Katie thought of Hercule and of Rudigan and wondered how they would score out by mid-term. She could count on Hercule to work his hardest to achieve top scores—he always did. But Rudigan? How would he fare? He certainly had enough bravado to make it sound as though he would score high—but could she count on that? If she wanted him for a villain, she needed first to make sure he could accomplish what he so easily bragged about. Some intuition deep in her gut told her to follow his scores in the college paper very closely. If he and Hercule both attained top scores, then perhaps—if she herself was lucky enough to score in the top ranks—she could ask Widdershins to consider pairing them with her?

“I’m thirsty,” said Gwillian suddenly. She glanced up at Katie and winked. “And would you look at this? We have our very own Freshman Forager, ready to wait upon our every whim. Would you mind popping down to the refreshment tent to get us some drinks?”

“Uh, okay,” said Katie. She wasn’t too sure about this “Freshman Forager” business, but she was glad to be of service to her new sisters all the same. They made a list of drinks and gave her directions, and Katie set off along the edge of the milling crowd toward the refreshment tent on the opposite side of the green.

Her course soon swung toward a dark, secluded grove of pine trees on the eastern-most edge of the field, and rather than plunging into the crush of students to avoid it, Katie decided it would be faster to trek straight through it. Without breaking her stride, she brushed aside a drooping branch and slipped into the inky gloom filling the constricted spaces between the trees.

The heavy, needle-laden pines muffled the buzz of the crowd, making the sound seem as if it was coming from miles away. The ground was strewn with a thick carpet of pine needles, which silenced her every footfall. Not even birds sang in the boughs overhead. An odd, creeping sensation began to play across the back of her neck, as if someone were watching her from the shadows. She glanced around, seeing no one. But she had long-since learned to trust her feelings—especially the queer ones—and she stepped up her pace, eager to be back in the daylight and among her fellow students.

As she passed one of the more ancient trees, a hand shot out from behind its trunk and seized her roughly by the arm. Before she could call for help, another hand clamped over her mouth. She looked up into the face of her attacker and saw wild, blazing eyes staring at her, a man’s eyes. His teeth were clenched, the corners of his mouth drawn into a fierce sneer. His cheeks were splotched with dried mud, and his breath reeked of decay. She attempted to pull away, but his grip was like iron.

“Now you listen to me,” he growled, grinding out the words. “You listen like a quiet mouse, right?”

She had to fight off the panic rising within her just to nod. She thought of summoning a repulse hex, but it was too risky. His hands would snap her neck quicker than she could raise her own to cast the magick.

“You’re walking a dangerous path,” he continued. “Though you think it is full of promise, in truth it leads to your greatest fear! Alone and forgotten—that is your doom! But this does not have to be! You can prevent it by watching where you put your feet!”

He paused to lick his lips and glance about. His lunatic eyes flicked to every shadow, to every dark bole—not to see if anyone was watching, but as though he were a hunted thing, at the end of its wits, and terrified of the hunter.

“Listen!” he said, lowering his face so that his nose was nearly touching hers. “Stay out of the library! Do you hear? Stay out of the library!”

The world blurred as he pushed her to the ground. The wind rushed from her lungs in a single, explosive blast. But even as she struggled to draw air, she managed to summon a stun spell to her fingertips. Gasping, she climbed to her knees and cast about wildly for her attacker, but he was nowhere to be found. It was as though he had melted away like the very shadows that he feared.

Katie remained alert long enough to catch her breath, and then she threw all caution to the wind and ran headlong for the daylight.

She burst from the grove and angled toward the crowd, but before she could reach it, a pair of hands seized her from behind. She whirled round and found Chani standing there, her hands raised to block the spell Katie was preparing to fire. A wave of relief flooded over Katie, and she quickly doused the magick thrumming in her hands.

“What’s set you on edge?” Chani said. She glanced surreptitiously at the crowd and, seeing that no one was watching them, hauled Katie behind the trunk of an enormous oak and held her until she stopped quaking.

“A man…grabbed me…!” Katie struggled to say as she gasped for breath.

“Man?” hissed Chani. “What man?”

“I don’t know. He seemed…crazed…nervous like…”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No.”

Chani sighed and glanced toward the grove. Her eyes grew sharp and suspicious as they hunted through the shadows. Several moments passed before she glanced back at Katie, but the sharpness remained. “What did he want?” she said.

“He warned me not to go to the library.”

“Did he tell you why?”

Katie shook her head.

“You should tell someone,” said Chani.

“It’s too late. He’s already vanished.”

“Still,” said Chani. “After that attack on you this morning…”

Katie cut her off with a look. “No,” she growled. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this myself. Even if it kills me.”

“That’s precisely what I’m worried will happen,” said Chani.

Katie tugged at her sleeve and drew her into the crowd. As they made their way to the refreshment tent, Katie recounted her meeting with Dean Widdershins and with their Cahernan House housemates. By the time they returned to where Gwillian and the others were waiting, Chani was giddy with excitement.

“You have the luck of a Leprechaun,” the Banshee said, shaking her head in astonishment. “Our own private dorm house! This is grand! Simply grand!”

The girls of Cahernan House embraced Chani as warmly as they had Katie. And just as they began to question her in earnest—mostly about facing and defeating six Ogrim warriors—the crowd gave a deafening cheer. Katie glanced up to see Dean Widdershins take the stage, her arms raised to quell the din.

“Good afternoon, and welcome, everyone, to the one-thousandth and thirty-first Orientation celebration!”

Widdershins cried. The answering applause was so loud it sounded like a sustained thunderclap.

“I’d like to spend the next few minutes ‘orienting’ you to Derring-Do’s philosophy,” Widdershins continued. “No doubt most of you saw the arch spanning the entrance to our school as you arrived this morning. Upon it is engraved the four precepts Derring-Do most cherishes: Knowledge, Courage, Responsibility, and Compassion. All heroes embody these principles…”

Gwillian nudged Katie in the ribs and rolled her eyes. “Blah, blah, blah,” she muttered drolly. “Next she’s going to rattle on about the importance of studying hard, and then she’s going to blabber a little about how competitive the courses will be, and then she’s going to warn how our grades will determine who is accepted into next year’s program and who gets sent home. After that, she’s going to finish by telling us that our courses have already been selected and that our schedules await us back in our dorms. Oh, and then she’s going to wish us good luck. It’s the same speech year after year.”

Widdershins’ speech unfolded exactly as Gwillian had outlined, earning Katie a didn’t-I-tell-you-so look from her housemate as Widdershins finished explaining about their schedules and ended with a rousing “Now, good luck to you all, and GO DERRING-DO!”

Gwillian shot to her feet and slapped the grass from her pants. “And now it’s time for us to continue a long-cherished Cahernan House tradition,” she said.

“And what is that?” Katie said warily.

“We go down to the Commons and scope out boys,” answered Ella, a wide grin splitting her face.
 
“I like the sound of that,” Chani said.

The Commons was a long, low building situated in the center “hub” separating the four schools. According to Gwillian, it housed the cafeterium, the bookstore, the study halls, and the student lounge, and was the only place outside of the Bizarre Bazaar where the students of all four schools could congregate and mingle.

As they entered the lounge, a flamboyantly dressed Damsel and her set of star-struck devotees and hangers-on pushed past them. From out of nowhere a young woman wearing a derby hat identifying her as a senior reporter with the Daily Ithacan shouted for permission to take a pictograph, and Katie watched in amusement as the Damsel paused, struck an exaggerated pose, and blew her a kiss. With a flash of sodium light and a puff of white smoke, the reporter snapped the pictograph then jumped aside as the Damsel resumed her progress through the lounge.

“That’s Melonda,” Trinket said, falling into a hover next to Katie’s ear. Her exaggerated pronunciation of the name made it sound pretentious. “She went free agent last year after Turning Stone Magazine named her the most popular Damsel in Odyssey.”

Two boys wearing Damsel Academy sweatshirts caught Katie’s eyes as they slipped past her to catch up with the crush of people trailing after Melonda.

“There are boys in Damsel Academy?” she asked, dumbfounded.

“Of course,” Ella said wryly. “Sometimes boys need rescuing, too, you know.”

Katie turned to stare after them and absentmindedly collided with a student leaning against a nearby column. She spun around to offer her apologies and found herself gazing into a pair of intense, pale eyes cocked in amusement.

“Nice to bump into you again,” said Rom Rudigan with a sneer. “I wondered what became of you after your rather hasty retreat from the battlefield.”

Katie bristled at his accusation. “You know why I left,” she said coolly. “Dean Widdershins…”

“…wished to protect you, I know,” Rudigan interrupted, louder than was necessary.

“Keep your voice down!” Katie hissed.

Rudigan grinned at her. “Why should I?” he challenged.

“Because,” she replied, “I’m sure you won’t like people hearing ABOUT HOW I SAVED YOU FROM GETTING FLATTENED BY THAT OGRIM WARRIOR…!”

Rudigan’s eyes widened in horror. He seized her arm and dragged her behind the column, away from prying eyes and ears.

“I was taunting you,” he hissed impatiently. “Can’t you take a joke?”

Katie folded her arms in front of her and enjoyed the grin tugging the corners of her lips. “You don’t strike me as the joking type,” she answered.

He straightened to his full height and brushed his hands against his shirt, as if touching her had somehow soiled them. “I enjoy sporting as much as anyone.”

“Well, don’t ‘sport’ with me,” she threatened, stabbing a finger at his chest. “I don’t like it, and I don’t appreciate it. And you’d do well to remember that, Rom Rude-again.”

His sneer returned, ugly as ever. “I stand chastised,” he said sarcastically.

“You’re impossible,” Katie sighed.

“I’ll take that as a complement.” Rudigan ruffled his hair in a way that was both cute and irritating: cute because it was a gesture that accented his rugged handsomeness and irritating because it forced her to consider him ruggedly handsome. “So,” he said. “How was Orientation?”

“Boring,” she answered, finding his sudden interest in her somewhat flattering. “Yours?”

“Interminable.”

“Well, that’s one thing we agree on.”

“Let’s hope it’s the only thing.”

Katie crossed her arms and cocked her head in annoyance. “Why can’t you be civil?” she said.

“I was being civil,” Rudigan protested.

“No, you were being insulting.”

“If I wanted to insult you, Katie, I would have said that having anything in common with you is a notion much too repulsive for me to entertain. But since I agreed with you—albeit in a negative way—I was, in fact, being civil.”

“An insult is an insult no matter what tone you use,” Katie said with a smirk.

“You’re impossible,” Rudigan muttered.

“I’ll take that as a complement,” grinned Katie.

“Hey Katie!”

Katie turned to see Hercule pushing his way toward her through the press of students. Shreds and Patches trailed in his wake; the two Zombins were grinning stupidly and looking as though they were enjoying every nudge and jostle. Ignoring Rudigan, she greeted her old schoolmate with a fierce hug.

“That was unexpected,” Hercule said, his expression swinging between shock and delight.

“I’m just glad to see you, is all,” Katie replied.

“Unlike some of us,” said Rudigan as he stepped out from behind the pillar.

Hercule’s expression darkened. “I thought I smelled something rotten around here,” he scoffed.

“Funny,” said Rudigan. “I was about to say the same thing.”

Hercule’s rusty armor squealed in protest as he sidestepped Katie to stand chest-to-chest with Rudigan. Katie cringed as their eyes began to duel fiercely.

“One of these days, Rudigan, I’m going to pound that smug grin of yours into jelly,” growled Hercule.

“Why wait?” Rudigan challenged. “Today is as good a day as any.”

Hercule cocked back an arm to strike him but froze as Katie slipped between them.

“Enough!” she cried. “Hercule, put your arm down. Rudigan, step away.”

Both boys reluctantly obeyed.

“This is the last time this is going to happen in my presence, do you two understand me?” she fumed. “You either iron out your differences or stay out of each other’s way. Because if you don’t, I’ll forget I ever met you. I promise you that!”

She spun to find Chani, Ella, Gwillian, and Trinket eavesdropping over her shoulder.

A look of amusement was plastered on Ella’s face. “We haven’t been here five minutes and already Katie has two boys fighting over her,” she said. “I’m impressed.”

“Don’t be,” Katie snapped. “They’re a couple of bug-headed gutter nugs as far as I’m concerned.”

“I think they’re the most gorgeous gutter nugs I’ve ever seen,” said Gwillian.

“Why, thank you,” said Shreds, slipping up to her.

“We try our best,” added Patches.

“Ew!” said Gwillian. “I wasn’t talking about you two!”

Hercule’s eyes swept over Katie’s face disapprovingly. “So, I’m a gutter nug, am I?” he said, sounding bitterly hurt. “If that’s how you feel, then I guess I’ll see you around.”

Katie refused to let his reaction soften her resolve. She stood her ground and sent Hercule a steely-eyed look as he turned and stalked into the crowd. Patches rounded on Rudigan and jabbed his chest with a bony finger.
“You’d better be careful,” the Zombin warned. “I’m keeping my eye on you.”

There was a sickening pop as his eye shot out and struck Rudigan in the chin. With a snarl of disgust, Rudigan kicked the organ into the crowd and stormed off. Shreds and Patches howled with laughter.

Katie glanced at Chani and sighed heavily.

“And to think I thought Common College was a bad idea,” she said.

Copyright © 2008 by Kevin Scott Munnings
“The Book of All Things” ISBN-13: 978-1-4276-1874-0
All Rights Reserved