I clapped the little device shut. "No, don't. I can handle this. Let's see if he tries again."
"Or she," Bunny said.
"Whoever it is," I agreed. "Now, if you'll excuse me," I squared my shoulders, "I've got to go set a trap."
I sat in my office with my back to the door. I was trying out the Manticore's stunning serum on a housefly I had caught in a glass bottle. It hadn't moved for at least five minutes by my candle. The process had taken less than a pinpoint's worth of venom. This could be a great tool—or a weapon.
Footsteps approached, brushing along the flagstone floor in the corridor. My door creaked open slowly. I didn't tarn around.
"Skeeve?" a quiet voice said. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Pass the potatoes, please," I said.
Silently, Jinetta picked up the earthenware dish and handed it down the table to me.
"Thank you."
"Don't mention it," the tallest Pervect mumbled, dropping her eyes to her bowl.
Bunny sat at the head of the table, cutting her meat into very small pieces as if she was looking for hidden explosive devices. No one spoke except to ask for food.
I wasn't much of a conversationalist myself. Nothing I had done that day had turned out the way I planned it. The spell-sharing exercise had turned out to be a disaster. Someone had broken into the strongbox in an effort to frame one of the students for theft, and I still had no idea why. Massha's long-awaited demonstration had been derailed by either an attempt at assassination or a foolish mishap. I had sent my regrets back to Hugh, apologizing for the destruction of his anniversary gift to Massha and offering to replace it at my own expense. I knew that it was an inadequate gesture, but what could I do? Massha herself had forgiven me, but I had not forgiven myself. It had happened right under my nose. At the moment I was leaning toward deliberate sabotage. Replaying the events in my mind, I could see a pattern where no one had made a serious attempt to get rid of the ring-bomb. In fact, it looked to my mind's eye as though at least three of them had made efforts to keep the device from leaving the room.
My trap to catch the student who had set it off had failed spectacularly. Or, rather, it had worked too well. I didn't get one confession from the attempted bomber: I got five. They all confessed, everyone except Bee.
One by one, as dusk came on, they crept into my study. With shamed faces and the utmost sincerity they all apologized for having made a stupid mistake and being too ashamed to admit it. Melvine's confession had been particularly impassioned,
which surprised me, in light of the fact that he had never taken the blame for a single thing he had ever done, but his statement was almost word for word what the others said.
"Look," the Cupy said, giving me a sheepish, sideways grin, "the ring was just sitting there. You know I can't keep from fiddling with things. I wanted to see what it looked like with the spell armed, so I invoked it. The bezel started glowing. Then I got curious about what the other buttons did. I played with them a little. One of them turned out to be the failsafe. I knew as soon as I touched it that was the wrong thing. I couldn't get it to turn off. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't disarm it. I couldn't throw Massha's ring out the door without admitting what I had done. I should have said something right away. Instead, I just left it on the cloth with the other jewelry. I'm sorry. Don't tell the others. I feel like an idiot already."
I was puzzled. Why would five of them own up to causing a near-fatal accident when four of them, and maybe all five, had to be lying? Why did they want to stay with me so badly? For that was what they wanted, without exception.
The last to talk with me, Jinetta, had hung back at the door. "You'll keep us on, now that you know what—who the joker was. Right?" She had given me a meaningful glance then slipped off into the dim hallway. Her confession had sounded as sincere as the others, all of which I now doubted.
Bunny and I now really suspected Bee, who was looking mournful. As soon as the meal was finished, he sprang up.
"I'll do the dishes, Miss Bunny," he volunteered.
The others listlessly took on the other chores. Pologne went for the broom and pan. Freezia cleaned the table. Even Melvine pushed the benches back under the edges of the table.
I cleared my throat.
"I've, uh, decided," I began. The students whirled to face me. "I've decided you can stay. I've had a talk with the, er, perpetrator."
"Hurray!" Melvine whooped, sailing into the air and zooming around the ceiling like a flannel-clad bumblebee.
"Hold the happiness," I said. "This is provisionary. I will go on with the lessons if, and only if, there are no more near-death experiences and no more thefts. I want the six of you to start getting along again the way you did in Humulus. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Skeeve!" they chorused. Even Bee cheered up.
Bunny's eyebrows rose to frame the question that she did not ask out loud: why?
I hated to admit the truth even to myself: I didn't want to fail. I had taken on this class. I saw their misbehavior as a failure on my part to express my wishes and make them stick. I would have to be very clear from that moment on to let them know everything I wanted from them. On the other hand, I could hear in my head the voice of my mother, who had been a teacher, and a good one, all her adult life.
"And if they stick beans up their noses, will you feel responsible because you didn't tell them not to?"
I didn't know. I might. But I had to try. The students, and my own self-esteem, were counting on me.
Chapter Seventeen
"Tag, you're it!" B. V. RICHTOFFEN
"Aaaarroroooorrraaaaagghh!''
A huge, purple form came rushing into the courtyard where I was teaching advanced levitation. It bore down upon the cluster of students who were holding themselves above the ground and a variety of objects at different levels around them. Bee immediately lost focus and fell heavily to the flagstones. Melvine took off for the top of the trees. Tolk let out a whimper of pleasure and started swimming through the air toward the being.
The Pervects screamed then, seemingly caught in mid-shriek, raised their hands as if they were calling the spirits of the dead. The purple form was hoisted into the air.
"Oh, I say!" it exclaimed.
Chumley. I chuckled. "Let him down, girls! It's my friend Big Crunch."
"He is?" Jinetta asked. "Oh! Of course it is. I am so sorry, Mr. Troll. Permit me."
"I'll do it," Pologne snapped out.
"If you want," the tallest Pervect said.
The Troll was lowered gently to the ground. I was reasonably pleased. That exchange had even passed for civility.
The preceding week had tried my patience in more ways than one. I had gained no more insight on who was responsible for the explosion. Bee was still my major suspect, which I based on the absence of a confession and the fact he was the only one of the six who might ever have had close experience with ordnance weapons. General observation would have made him the last person I should ever have considered. He continued to be polite, hard-working and cooperative.
So had the others. In fact, each one was determined to show me that he or she was THE most cooperative, willing and hard-working pupil who had ever lived anywhere in the universe. Unfortunately that cooperation still didn't extend to one another. The distrust had taken firm hold, and refused to be detached. Even the Pervects were beginning to keep one another at arm's length. It distracted me from being able to concentrate. My lesson plan began to look like a dance chart, making sure none of them spent too much time with any of the others.
Instead, they all made efforts to spend as much time as possible with Bunny or me. Each clamored for private instruction and practical training from me. I ran through all the ideas I could glean from my own experiences, and not a few I stole from the shows on the Crystal Network, like having them extract a fragile glass bubble, intact, from a nest of horned weaselsnakes without getting bitten. As usual, each tackled the tasks in different ways. The Pervects still tended to go for the academic approach, but I was pleased to see that more frequently than ever they put aside the books and tried to analyze the situation in the real world. Bee looked at everything from a logistics and supply point of view. I thought his solution was the most elegant of all, setting out the weaselsnakes' favorite prey at a distance from the nest, and retrieving the bubble at his leisure. Tolk tried to make everything his friend, disastrous in the experiment with shield-hornets, but very successful in getting the local townsfolk to lend him enough ingredients to make a pan of scones. Melvine whined and complained a lot, but away from the distraction of others he buckled down. He really was as smart as Markie thought he was. His easy command of magikal force had made him lazy. Once he stopped blasting everything full force, he became more effective. The surgical precision with which he whisked the glass ball out of the snake nest was a beautiful sight to behold. I wished the others had been there to see it, or even evinced