“I don’t know who you are,” he said, expression strained. “But I’m going to put you through that wall.”
“Try it, ugly,” whispered the Nightmare Lady, lowering herself down like a cat about to spring, her tail undulating overhead.
Suddenly a great weight fell upon Scorio, driving him to his knees with punishing force, then down to all fours. He saw Kuragin struggle and sink as well, and heard the table shatter under the Nightmare Lady as it failed to bear her weight. The crowd around them all suffered equally, everyone wilting and collapsing under the impossible pressure.
“Now, I know that Emberlings aren’t starting a fight in the mess hall.” Helminth strode through the crowd toward them. Her tone was amused, genial almost. “That would be an absurd flouting of the rules, something unheard of so deep into the semester.”
Kuragin reverted to his human form, and Scorio saw that the wound in his hand had healed over, leaving only an angry thick scab in its place. “Apologies, Instructor. This is my fault. I lost my temper.”
Scorio clenched his jaw as he wrestled against the suffocating pressure and pushed himself upright so that he could sit upon his heels. The effort made motes of black dance in his vision, but it allowed him to stare in surprise at Kuragin.
“You instigated this?” Helminth frowned down at where the Emberling knelt. She turned slowly to take in the entirety of the scene, from the Nightmare Lady amidst the wreckage of the table and all its food to the watching crowd. “I’m disappointed. Losing your temper is the opposite of an excuse. Those involved in this matter, follow me.”
And just as quickly, the pressure evaporated. Several of the affected Great Souls sighed in relief, and everyone rose to their feet.
Scorio, Leonis, Naomi, and Kuragin followed the Hell Whip as she cleaved through the crowd of gawking Great Souls to one of the exits.
They were led through the hallways at a brisk pace, Scorio keeping his gaze straight ahead as others paused to stare at their group, until at last, they reached Helminth’s suite. They paused as the instructor unlocked the door. Had he only been here last night? That entire encounter now seemed surreal, dream-like.
They filed slowly into the large reception chamber. Helminth pointed at the rows of chairs against the wall. “Sit. Kuragin, you’ll give me your testimony first. Follow.”
And with that, she led the Emberling through a doorway deeper into her suite.
Leonis sat heavily, clapping his hands on his knees as he stared at the windows with a frown. “That went well.”
Scorio sat beside him. “Insofar as you still have your face? I’d agree.”
“Thank you, by the way.” Leonis leaned forward to look past Scorio at Naomi. “That intervention was much appreciated.”
“He should never have swung at you,” she said sullenly. “He’d have taken off your jaw.”
“Well, I’m pretty tough,” protested Leonis. “I might have been a little bruised—”
“He’d have taken off your jaw,” said Naomi firmly.
“Fair enough.” Leonis leaned back with another sigh. “But by the ten hells, what were you thinking, Scorio? Headbutting him like that?”
Scorio frowned, chewed his lower lip, and said nothing.
Naomi was called in shortly after. Kuragin sat a few chairs down from Scorio and Leonis, arms crossed, lips pursed, eyes closed. Silence radiated from his form like heat, and Scorio took the opportunity to study him covertly. The ridge of his nose had healed from Scorio’s blow, and the thick scab between his knuckles had peeled off to reveal tender, pink skin.
“You’re next,” said Naomi, emerging from the room beyond, her face rigid with self-control and anger.
Scorio stood, tugged his robes straight, and stepped through the door into the private sitting room. It was surreal to think he’d been here just the night before. Putting the memory aside, he crossed it to the office door and stepped inside.
It was as clean and sparse as the rest of her suite; a broad table of lustrous wood dominated the space, its surface bare but for a scroll on which freshly-inked characters were drying; Helminth reclined in a large chair, her gaze narrowed as she studied Scorio.
“Come in and close the door.”
Scorio did as he was bid, and sat in one of the plain chairs before her desk.
“This is not a good look, Scorio,” said Helminth, tapping her quill upon her lips. “Kuragin has taken full responsibility for the exchange, but that doesn’t change the fact that you struck the first blow.”
Scorio remained quiet.
She sat up, movements brisk, and dipped the tip of her quill in a stone inkpot. “But let us begin at the beginning. Please give me your version of the events.”
Scorio did so, his words terse, making no effort to paint his actions in a better light. Helminth wrote her notes in a quick, elegant hand, and when he was finished, she placed her quill into a small hole set into the side of the inkpot.
“At least we need not sort through contradictory accounts,” she said, interlacing her fingers behind her head as she leaned back once more. “Do you have anything further to say for yourself?”
Scorio studied the powerful woman. Even relaxed as she was, reclining in her chair, she evinced a potent sense of mastery, of being able to explode into violence at a moment’s notice.
There was no doubting that he sat across from a Dread Blaze, and that very sense of her power quelled any inclination he had for making excuses or asking for understanding.
“No,” he said.
“Very well. I’ll say this: if you want any chance to acquire a sponsor, this is exactly the kind of trouble you should be avoiding. Now, return to the waiting room and send in Leonis.”
He arose, bowed at the door, and did as he was bid. Sat down next to Naomi as Leonis left, and together they simply stared straight ahead. Despite her simmering anger, he took comfort in her presence, and he could only hope she took the same from him.
Leonis’s account was perhaps the longest of them all, and the Hell Whip returned with him to stand before them, arms crossed over her chest.
“This is a disappointing breach in discipline,” she said, tone flat. “Kuragin, the Academy expects far better from you. You are denied Eighthday privileges and will report to Master Pully each morning instead of attending class to assist him and his crew in groundskeeping duties until further notice. Dismissed.”
Kuragin gave a stiff nod, his expression inscrutable, and left the waiting room.
“Leonis, you acted to defuse the situation, and are accused by none of your peers. You are free to go.”
Leonis gave a sharp series of nods, his brow furrowed, but as he arose, he didn’t seem relieved. He moved slowly toward the door, clearly hoping to remain for the rest of the sentencing, but a stare from Helminth saw him on his way.
“Scorio and Naomi, you will follow me.”
And with her notes in hand, the instructor led them back out into the hallway. Naomi and Scorio rose slowly, confused, and after exchanging a suspicious glance followed Helminth down the hall, up a flight of stairs, then down an even broader corridor that terminated in a grand set of double doors. A lectern was placed to one side, but nobody was in attendance.
Helminth directed them to sit on chairs set against the hallway’s walls, and then knocked on the door before entering.
“What’s going on?” whispered Scorio, taking in the luxurious corridor. Alcoves along its length displayed wondrous works of art, while skylights allowed the ruddy light of First Rust to illuminate the rich red carpet that ran all the way down to the stairway.
“This is Praximar’s office,” said Naomi, her words clipped. “We’re done for.”
“Done for?” Scorio stared at the double doors in surprise. “But why just us? Kuragin took responsibility.”