“Why wouldn’t they?”
“Well, considering recent events…”
Joel shrugged. “I suspect Harding will limit attendance to students and faculty. The Scribbler attacks at night anyway. An event like this would be too well attended by Rithmatists to be a good place to try anything.”
Melody grumbled something unintelligible as they walked up the hill to Making Hall.
“What was that?” Joel asked.
“I just don’t see why they have to have the Melee in the first place,” Melody said. “I mean, what’s the point?”
“It’s fun,” Joel said. “It lets the students get some practice in with real duels and prove themselves Rithmatically. What’s your problem with it?”
“Every professor has to send at least one student to the thing,” Melody said.
“So?”
“So, how many students does Fitch have?”
Joel stopped on the side of the hill. “Wait … you’re going to duel in the Melee?”
“And be thoroughly humiliated. Not that that’s anything new. Still, I don’t see why I have to be put on display.”
“Oh, come on. Maybe you’ll do well—you’re so good at chalklings, after all.”
She regarded him flatly. “Nalizar is fielding twelve students to fight.” It was the maximum. “Who do you bet they’ll eliminate first?”
“Then you won’t be humiliated. Who would expect you to stand against them? Just enjoy yourself.”
“It’s going to be painful.”
“It’s a fun tradition.”
“So was witch-burning,” Melody said. “Unless you were the witch.”
Joel chuckled as they reached Making Hall. They walked along to one of the doors, and Melody reached to pull it open.
Joel froze. It was Nalizar’s office. “Here?”
“Yeah,” Melody said with a grimace. “The office had a note for him. Oh yeah, I forgot.” She reached into her bag, pulling out the book Origins of Power, the one that Joel had borrowed a few weeks back. “He requested this, and the library contacted me, since I’d checked it out.”
“Nalizar wants this book?” Joel asked.
“Uh … yeah. That’s what I just said. I found it at Fitch’s office, where you left it. Sorry.”
“Not your fault,” Joel said. He’d been hoping that once he’d spent some time studying his father’s texts, he’d be able to figure the book out.
“Be back in a sec,” Melody said, opening the door and rushing up the stairs.
Joel waited below—he had no desire to see Nalizar. But … why did the professor want that book?
Nalizar is involved in this somehow, he thought, walking around the building to look up into the office window. I—
He stopped short. Nalizar stood there, in the window. The professor wore his red coat, buttoned up to the neck. He scanned the campus, eyes passing over Joel, as if not noticing him.
Then the professor’s head snapped back toward Joel, regarding him, meeting his eyes.
Other times when he’d seen the professor, Joel had found the man haughty. Arrogant in a youthful, almost naive sort of way.
There was none of that in the man’s expression now. Nalizar stood in the shadowed room, tall and straight-backed, arms clasped behind him as he stared down at Joel. Contemplative.
Nalizar turned, obviously hearing Melody knock on the door, then walked away from the window. A few minutes later, Melody appeared at the bottom of the stairs, lugging a stack of books, her bag full of others. Joel rushed over to help her.
“Ugh,” she said as he took half of the books. “Thanks. Here, you might be interested in this.” She slid one book across the top of her stack.
Joel picked it up. Postulations on the Possibility of New and Undiscovered Rithmatic Lines, the title read. It was the book he’d wanted to steal from Nalizar, the one the professor had borrowed a few weeks back.
“You stole it?” Joel asked with a hushed tone.
“Hardly,” Melody said, walking down the slope with her stack of books. “He told me to return these to the library as if I were some glorified errand girl.”
“Uh … that’s what you are, Melody. Only without the ‘glorified’ part.”
She snorted, and the two of them continued down the hill. “He sure is checking out a lot of books,” Joel noted, looking over the titles in his arms. “And they’re all on Rithmatic theory.”
“Well, he is a professor,” Melody said. “Hey, what are you doing?”
“Looking to see when he checked them out,” Joel said, balancing the books as he tried to flip to the back cover of each one, looking at the stamp on the card. “Looks like he’s had these for less than two weeks.”
“So?”
“So, that’s a lot of reading,” Joel said. “Look, he checked out this one on advanced Vigor reflecting yesterday. He’s returning it already?”
She shrugged. “It must not have been that interesting.”
“Either that, or he’s looking for something,” Joel said. “Skimming the books for specific information. Perhaps he’s trying to develop another new line.”
“Another?” Melody said. “You still insist on connecting him to the disappearances, don’t you?”
“I’m suspicious.”
“And if he’s behind it,” Melody said, “then why did all of the disappearances happen off campus? Wouldn’t he have taken the students easiest to reach?”
“He wouldn’t have wanted to draw suspicion to himself.”
“And motive?” Melody said.
“I don’t know. Taking the son of a knight-senator changes so much, transforming this from a regional problem to a national crisis. It doesn’t make sense. Unless that’s what he wanted in the first place.”
Melody eyed him.
“Stretch?” Joel asked.
“Yeah. If this were about creating a national crisis, then he could have just taken the knight-senator.”
Joel was forced to admit that she was right. What were the Scribbler’s motives? Was it about Rithmatists, or about driving a wedge between the islands? If it was just about killing or kidnapping students, then where had the new Rithmatic lines come from, and why were the wild chalklings involved? Or were they really? Could ordinary chalklings be instructed to act like wild ones to throw the police off?
Joel and Melody arrived at the library, and they went in, dropping off Nalizar’s books. Ms. Torrent gave them one of her trademark looks of displeasure as she checked the books in, then checked the book on potential Rithmatic lines back out to Melody.
They left, and Melody handed the book to Joel.
He tucked it under his arm. “Weren’t we going to the office to look for a note from the vicar?”
“I suppose,” she said, sighing.
“You’re down, all of a sudden.”
“I’m like that,” she said. “Wild mood swings. It makes me more interesting. Anyway, you have to admit that it hasn’t been a pleasant afternoon you’ve shown me. I got to see Nalizar—dreamy as he is—but I was also forced to think about the Melee.”
“You almost sound like it’s my fault,” Joel said.
“Well,” she said, “I wasn’t going to say it myself, but since you pointed it out, I find myself persuaded. You really should apologize to me.”
“Oh please.”
“Don’t you feel the least bit sorry for me?” she asked. “Having to go and be laughed at by the entire school populace?”
“Maybe you’ll hold your own.”
She regarded him flatly. “Have you seen one of my circles, Joel?”
“You’re getting better.”
“The Melee is in three days!”