Professor Jeffries came by just after we got Rennie’s letter, with a fat packet that had gold trim and red wax all over it. I knew because I was the one who answered the door for him. He asked to see Papa, and they spent an hour in Papa’s study before they came out to have cider and biscuits with the rest of us. And right about then, Professor Graham showed up and the parlor pretty near exploded.
Professor Graham was William’s father. He was an angular, intense sort of man, and he hadn’t changed much in all the years we’d been in Mill City, except that his hair was a little thinner and his eyeglasses were a little thicker. He had emphatic notions about a lot of things. One of them was magic, and another was William. When he came busting into our house, he was shouting about both of them, and it was a while before he simmered down enough to make sense. He was so mad he didn’t even stop to take off his coat and boots in the hall, and Allie and I had to spend nearly an hour later on drying out the carpet where he’d tracked in all the snow.
Between Papa and Mama and Professor Jeffries, they finally got him set down with a cup of hot cider and some biscuits, though it was plain that Professor Graham was still plenty fussed about something. After a minute, Papa and Mama exchanged a look over his head, and then Mama said, “What brings you by today, Professor?”
For a minute it looked as if Professor Graham was going to explode all over again, but instead he pulled a letter from an inside pocket and handed it to Papa. “That,” he said bitterly.
Papa started to read, then looked up. “This is from your son.”
“No son of mine,” Professor Graham said even more bitterly than before. “Go on, read it.”
From the way he said it, I thought he meant for Papa to read the letter aloud, but Papa only nodded and commenced looking over the letter again. It didn’t take him long to finish. “Well,” he said. “Seems the boy has a mind to choose his own way.”
“Choose!” Professor Graham burst out. “Choose Triskelion University, when everything’s arranged for him to attend Simon Magus? He’s an idiot, and he’s ruining his life.”
I very near bit my tongue off to keep it still. Professor Graham had been bragging for months about William attending Simon Magus College, same as Lan, so I could see why he’d be upset at the news that William had decided on a different course. But I couldn’t say I was surprised, and neither would he have been, if he’d paid attention. William had already messed up Professor Graham’s plans for his life twice: once when he talked the professor into sending him to the day school like Lan and me instead of tutoring him at home, and once when he insisted on having two years at the upper school in Mill City, instead of going East for prep school the way Lan had when he finished day school. And William had taken Miss Ochiba’s extra class in Aphrikan magic after school for years, same as me, even though his father had made it plain that in his opinion nothing was worth spending time on except Avrupan magic.
William going off to Triskelion fit the same pattern. Triskelion University wasn’t anywhere near as old as Simon Magus. It was founded in 1824, just eight years before the Secession War started, but even though it was practically brand-new, its first four classes of graduates had been as helpful in winning the war for the North as the magicians who’d studied at the older, better-known schools. It was the first university in North Columbia to give equal weight to all three major schools of magic: Avrupan, Hijero-Cathayan, and Aphrikan. And Miss Ochiba, who’d taught Avrupan magic at the day school for twelve years and Aphrikan magic after school for six, had been a professor at Triskelion since right before William left for boarding school. I wondered whether that was what had decided him.
Something of what I was thinking must have shown on my face, because Professor Graham rounded on me and snapped, “Did you know anything about this?”
“No, sir,” I said, for once thanking the stars that William was such a bad hand at letter writing. “He didn’t say a thing about it last summer, and he hasn’t written since.”
Professor Graham gave me a suspicious look, but let it go. “Well, he’ll not have a penny from me for this folly.”
“It may not be folly,” Professor Jeffries said in a thoughtful tone. Ignoring Professor Graham’s scowl, he went on, “Triskelion has an excellent reputation for such a young school, and after that business with the mirror bugs last summer —”
“Nonsense!” Professor Graham said sharply. “He needs a solid grounding in higher Avrupan theory if he’s to get a teaching position with one of the great Eastern universities. Triskelion can’t provide that.”
“I don’t think William wants to be a teacher,” I said before I could stop myself.
“What?” Professor Graham looked mad enough to have an apoplexy. “I thought you said you didn’t know anything about all this!”
“I-it was something he said a long time ago,” I stammered. “Back before he went East for school.”
“Boyish nonsense!” Professor Graham said. “He’ll come to his senses soon enough.”
“Perhaps,” Papa said. He glanced at the corner of the mantelpiece, where the little wooden squirrel sat that my brother Jack had carved. Jack had gone for a settlement allotment the minute he turned eighteen, though Papa and Mama were both against it. He’d stuck to it through two years of waiting until the Settlement Office found him a place, and now he was out in Bisonfield, starting on his five years of working to earn his claim.
“Eff,” my mother said, “would you bring some more biscuits from the kitchen, please?” She handed me the platter even though there were still three biscuits left on it.
I could see she wanted me away for a while. I took my time in the kitchen, but when I brought the biscuits back, Mama handed me the cider pitcher to fill. I went back out and added two sticks of kindling to the cookstove so I could heat up the cider. I wasn’t any too keen to go back to the parlor while Professor Graham was that angry, and I didn’t know how long it would take Mama and Papa and Professor Jeffries to talk him out of his mad. Professor Graham had a powerful temper.
When I finally came back out with the pitcher, Professor Graham was gone and Mama and Papa and Professor Jeffries were talking real serious. I poured more cider for everyone and then took Professor Graham’s cup and plate to the kitchen without being asked. I washed up the dishes and tidied the kitchen, and when I came out again, Professor Jeffries was gone, too.
Papa and Mama didn’t say much about what had happened, but it didn’t take long for news to get all over town that Professor Graham had had a gigantic dustup with his son and cut him off without a penny. I was real popular at school for a week, on account of having practically been there when Professor Graham got the letter. William had been in my class until he’d gone East for school, and most of my classmates remembered him.
I sat down and wrote William a letter right off, to let him know I understood why he hadn’t written and to tell him that Mama and Papa didn’t seem to think Triskelion University was such a bad choice, though they weren’t saying so straight to Professor Graham’s face. I thought a long time about what else to write. If William had been there, I’d have told him to his face that going to Triskelion was a fine idea for him and that I wished him well, but every way I tried to write it sounded like I was puffing off my opinion. In the end, I just asked him to remember me to Miss Ochiba if he saw her. I was pretty sure he’d understand.
William didn’t write back, but a month after Christmas we got a letter from Lan. He told us all the things Professor Graham hadn’t: that William had taken his graduating exams early and found a sponsor to send him to Triskelion before he’d ever written his father about it. Lan sounded a tad miffed that William hadn’t told him anything in advance, and a mite disappointed that William wasn’t going to be at Simon Magus with him after all, but he mostly sounded cross with Professor Graham. He said that if the professor hadn’t gone all obstinate about William attending Simon Magus, William might have changed his mind. I was pretty sure he was wrong about that last bit, but there was no point in writing to tell him so.