Chapter 144: 144: Academy Life Starts II
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Sera’s eyes widened. "He offered to teach you himself," she said. "He has not taken a student in—" she stopped counting. "A very long time." She shook her head as if to clear it. "Then it is true what I felt in the village yard. You are talented and rare. That is not a bad thing. It is a true thing."
Fizz took another cake. "Yes," he said, mouth full. "He is dangerous and rare. I am cute and rare. Between us we cover many categories."
Sera reached out and ruffled Fizz’s fur with one careful finger. "You are also trouble," she said.
"Some trouble is holy," Fizz said, and popped an apple slice in his mouth to show he was being devout.
They talked for a while. Sera asked about the Bent Penny. John said the rooms were clean, the beds firm, the food honest. He said the tavern woman, Penny, ran a fair house. He said Pim was curious and funny. Sera said she liked that tavern. She liked that they left a candle for late ones. She liked that the cat on the shed roof took his job seriously.
Sera asked when he would move to the dorms. "Today," John repeated. "We will pay our bill to the penny and go."
Sera nodded. "Good. The dorm wards do more work than guards with spears. The walls there will know your token. Do not lose your token." She held his eyes until he nodded.
Fizz raised the tiny cup with both paws. "To tokens," he said. "And to the day we eat snacks in the dorm."
"You may not eat snacks in the dorm," Sera said. "At least not on the stairs."
Fizz looked hurt. "The stairs do not eat. They do not deserve snacks."
"The stairs move," Sera said. "It is their snack."
Fizz squinted. "I do not like that."
"You will," Sera said. "You like problems you can tell jokes to."
A novice passed and set a small jar on the table. "Tea," she said. Sera thanked her. The jar steamed a little. It smelled like mint and something else John did not know.
They drank. They talked a little more. Sera asked John to be careful of the Aqua family boys. She had heard a rumor. John said he knew. He did not say more. Sera did not press. She had learned when not to pull on a thread.
At last Sera stood. "I will look for you in the east hall," she said. "I have classes and temple duty, but I will make a gap. The first week is loud. It is easier if someone you trust points at the right doors."
"Thank you," John said.
"Thank you for coming," Sera said. "It is good to see you stand in our court as a student and not as a visitor. It suits you."
They said goodbye by the cedar posts. Fizz pressed both paws to his chest and bowed like a tiny actor at the end of a play. "Snacks were holy," he said. "You are holy. Your baker is the holiest."
"I will tell Old Ina," Sera said. "She will pretend she did not hear and then give you two cakes next time."
"Good," Fizz said. "Pretend is a useful skill."
They left the temple by the side gate. The sun had moved higher. The city had picked up its pace.
They turned down familiar streets toward the Bent Penny. The sign with the hole-punched coin hung crooked on purpose. The door stood open. The smell of soup had changed since morning. Now it was stew with something smoked in it.
Penny stood at the counter with her ledger and her ladle. Pim darted from table to table with a cloth, wiping rings and crumbs, serious about it.
"You came back," Penny said, and then saw the look on John’s face and Fizz’s proud float. "I see news in your eyes. Good or bad."
"Good," Fizz said. "Bring us your most brag-worthy stew so we can brag at it."
"True," Penny said.
John smiled a little. "We came to pay our bill," he said. "Three days."
Penny named the price. It was fair. John counted out coins and set an extra small silver on the counter.
"No," Penny said at once, shaking her head. "You do not tip me. I am not a barrel organ."
John pushed the small silver back, not to offend. "For Pim," he said. "For a book with clean pages. He should write in it and keep it safe."
Pim’s eyes went huge. He tried to be cool and failed. "A book," he breathed. "With no grease marks. With a cover."
Penny’s mouth softened. She took the coin, turned, and pressed it into Pim’s hand. "For a book," she said. "A good one. Not a rude one with pictures."
Pim nodded hard. "Yes," he said. "A good one. With lines."
Fizz leaned over the counter. "Also buy a small fan with a fish on it," he advised. "It helps with temper."
Penny raised a brow. "Buy what you like," she told Pim. "As long as it is a book."
They ate one last bowl at the long table near the window. Pim perched on a stool and asked twelve questions in a row about stairs that move and whether the academy had cats and if the lamps changed color when it rained. Fizz answered nine of them with lies that were so silly even Pim could tell, and three of them with truths that made Pim blink.
"Show me the trick again," Pim begged in a whisper when the bowls were empty. "The one with the coin."
John glanced at Penny. She nodded once. He put a coin on the table, no magic yet, just a coin. Pim put a finger near it. John breathed and let the field curl small. The coin slid an inch toward Pim’s finger as if it had made a choice. Pim giggled, then clapped a hand over his mouth to keep from getting scolded. The coin slid one more inch and stopped.
John let the field go and looked at Pim. "You saw my hand," he said. "It did not move."