Aaralon set his wooden tray on the table gingerly, careful not to break the shiny foam gathered atop the steaming blackened earthenware bowl of whigroot soup. His mind raced furiously to avert disaster. "I suppose you're going to tell me there's some gossip about evidence of demon summoning happening here on campus."
Michael looked at his friend curiously for a moment and then leaned forward, "Do you know instructor Memp? The cat-eared wizard who's in charge of the first-year students this semester?"
"I know enough not to get shut alone in a room with that man," Aaralon grimaced down at the tray, his tension draining in a deep, relieved sigh. Perhaps his secret hadn't been discovered after all.
"Well, as it turns out, princess Victoria and princess Elsie have disappeared into the metil mines beneath the castle again," Michael stopped to dip a sausage end into the whig foam and then tore the skin off with his teeth, chewing thoughtfully.
Aaralon knew his friend was goading him on, but elected to bite anyhow. "So how is Memp involved this time? And moreover, isn't this sort of vanishing trick almost becoming a weekly event for little Victoria?"
"Yes, but this is the first time Elsie has been involved. The queen's no fool, she's quite aware that princess Victoria has been ruined, but the possibility that the chastity of her youngest daughter might be in danger too has positively driven her into vapors."
From the corner of his eye, Aaralon noticed a whigstalk working itself up the side of the bowl and stabbed at it with his fork. A moment too late, the stalk, propelled by magical force, vanished into his friend's mouth with an audible chomp. "Can't you at least finish your own food before you start eating mine?" Aaralon asked, irritated. "So get on with your story. Where does that creep Memp come into this?"
"It's simple," Michael said between mouthfuls, "Memp's volunteered the entire class of first year magic students to go into the mines and search for the princesses."
"He's done what?!" Aaralon's incredulous, raised voice drew curious glances from magic students seated nearby. Some of them, he noticed, were discretely drawing glyphs of greater hearing in the air to listen in on their conversation.
Michael poured a spoonful of the thin orange soup onto the table between them and in it, quickly drew a rune of warding to head off the potential eves droppers. "Hush up, will you? This is serious stuff."
"I'll say. Older students like us would have no problem taking care of ourselves in the mines, but first years will be about as helpless as the two princesses they're supposed to be searching for," Aaralon shot back at his friend, "I'm no expert in kingdom politics, but why in hell's name would instructor Memp do that?"
"Because he's got an ulterior motive of course," Michael lowered his voice, and pulled his friend's head close, "Word is that he's asked some of his students to gather red lichen in the caves. I don't know what he's promised to them in return, but it's got to be good."
"The only magical application for red lichen is in greater demon summoning!" Aaralon's mind had already begun assessing the implications involved with this new information.
"Of course, none of this is official, and you DIDN'T hear it from me!" Michael hissed into Aaralons ear as he stood up to leave. Aaralon watched as his friend walked off, empty tray levitating in tow.
His thoughts wandered to Olive, Nora, and several of the other first year students he had made acquaintance with, and wondered if they would be alright. His thoughts were also drawn back to the tome of fire flesh, noting that the entertainment provided by the Tar'oth the previous night might just be a mere shadow of what would come if he could procure a bit of red lichen for his own incantations. |