Chapter Eight: Declaration of Intent | Part 5
The headmistress didn’t arrive until almost 6th bar. Her tail gave an annoyed twitch as her eyes fell on Thirtyx. “Venmagalion, forgive me for saying it, but dealing with you is not exactly the way I like to start my morning.”
Thirtyx scratched nervously behind one of his pointed ears. “I understand that, Headmistress. But I thought you’d like to be among the first to know that the Grimmary twins are back. They sort of… snuck in last night because they didn’t want to cause a ruckus, but they’ll be back in class today.”
Headmistress Azirenne blinked at him in shock. “They snuck in through one of the world’s most advanced magical barriers?” Her wide eyes narrowed abruptly. “I assume this is the explanation behind the anomaly our security staff observed in our defense field last night around 46th bar?”
Thirtyx hadn’t come here to get them in trouble. “I don’t know all the specifics,” he hedged. “But I do know that the news of their arrival probably would’ve kept a lot of people out of their rooms past curfew.”
Azirenne’s expression was a study in contradictions, her lips pursed in frustration but her eyes soft with joy. Anyone else tampering with that field would have gotten suspended (if not expelled), but Thirtyx was banking on her relief overpowering her anger.
It might also put her in a good enough mood to help him out.
“Well, thank you for letting me know,” Azirenne sighed. “I wish they’d been straightforward about it, but I’m glad they’re safe. You really came here this early just to give me a heads up?”
“Well… not just that.” Thirtyx withdrew a folded piece of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket. “I was also hoping you could sign a permission slip for me before class starts. It’s sort of urgent.”
***
Benn was waiting for him outside their history class. Thirtyx had taken his sweet time with the headmistress, then he’d holed himself up in the library during breakfast. He needed to get used to the library anyway, after the stunt he just pulled.
“What in the name of the Twins was that about?” Benn asked. “Rhea won’t stay out of my head with her conspiracy theories.”
Thirtyx answered with a sheepish grin. “Can you handle them until third block? I’m really sorry.” If he told them, that would make it real, and the last thing he wanted was to get his hopes up. The signed form had spurred so much excitement that it felt almost alive in Thirtyx’s pocket, but he still needed the okay from Professor C.
Benn dropped his voice to a grumble as he followed Thirtyx inside. “You’re here without us all break, and you’re bored. Now you’re here without us for a week, and you’re a totally different person.”
He somewhat liked being a different person, something he could find a way to explain to them once things slowed down a little.
After their history class, Benn reluctantly split from Thirtyx, who dawdled on the way to his second class—not enough to avoid Rhea, whose crossed arms and vicious scowl sent simultaneous spikes of fear and satisfaction through his elated haze.
“Third block?” she demanded. “I am this close to pinning you down and prying it out of your head, Mister!”
He flashed a smirk as he glided past her into the classroom. “You and Benn get to have secrets sometimes. Now it’s my turn.”
She practically dragged him to their rhetoric class, which was honestly for the best. He could have easily found excuses to delay too long to talk to Professor C before class, then spend the rest of the day talking himself out of this, but he’d have hated himself for it later.
So when Rhea shoved him through the classroom door before heading for her seat, he leveraged the momentum to enact his plan. “Professor C?”
She paused her act of writing their assignments on the chalkboard, her face set in the same expression of displeasure the headmistress had given him earlier. “What is it, Venmagalion?”
“I… I’ve decided to take the Law Comp, ma’am.”
She lowered the chalk and quirked an eyebrow with so much disdain that Thirtyx almost felt the entire plan crumble underneath him. But in the interim, Seerla walked in, eyeing him curiously.
He stood his ground.
“Venmagalion, we are four weeks into the term,” Professor C said. “The Law Comp is in six. How in the Twins’ name do you expect to make up that much ground?”
“My grades are solid—in this class and my others. I’ve taken all the right courses, I have the right foundations, and I’m prepared to hit the ground running. I promise.”
She held her scowl for so long, Thirtyx wondered if she was somehow trying to Selkie-charm him out of this idea with her eyes, but he held her gaze. “I’m serious, ma’am. Serious about the Comp and serious about my future.”
It was one of those rare occasions where forced sincerity was an asset. He had, in fact, spent most of the night tossing and turning, hashing and rehashing the math on how much time he’d need to devote to this, and if it would be worth it. But it was only a few weeks of his life in comparison to what he could have for decades.
What he hadn’t realized he wanted until last night.
Calley Jones 