"That's not true," James called out, moving to get in front of Petra. "Petra doesn't need to escape because she's not guilty!" He stopped and then glanced back over his shoulder, his brow knitted. "Er… are you?"
Petra met his gaze but didn't respond. At least, not with words.
"Chancellor," Mother Newt said, "as a matter of fact, I am inclined to disagree with you. I do not believe that Ms. Morganstern means to escape. I believe that she is telling us the truth. About everything."
"All evidence to the contrary, Professor," Jackson said, his wand still raised and pointed at Petra, "how could you possibly know this?"
Mother Newt's smile broadened as she continued to stare at Petra. "Call it woman's intuition," she said with low emphasis. "Besides, I suspect that she is right about one more thing: I don't believe we can stop her even if we wished to. She is…," Mother Newt paused and narrowed her eyes, "… unique."
"Professor Newton," Franklyn said, shaking his head again, making his square spectacles flash in the moonlight, "we cannot simply allow this woman to leave. She is a convicted prisoner of the Wizarding Court of the United States."
"But she isn't leaving, not technically," Mother Newt replied lightly. "If you are right, Chancellor, then Ms. Morganstern will simply be entering Apollo Mansion. She can still be said to be confined to the campus. None would deny that fact. Thus, I believe, we can be honestly said to have performed our duties as well as could be expected under the circumstances."
"Madam," Jackson began, but Mother Newt stopped him with a quick backward glare.
"Put down your wand, Theodore," she said, her voice suddenly steely. "Don't be a fool. We are teachers. This is, as they say, well above our pay grade."
"She is a prisoner of the Wizarding Courts," Franklyn insisted urgently, lowering his own wand.
"And we are not arbiters," Mother Newt answered, sighing. "Let the young lady do what she means to do. She will return. Won't you, dear?" she asked, addressing this last to Petra.
"If I can," Petra answered. "And I will submit to whatever consequences there are when I do. I am hoping that things will look a bit different by then. To all of us."
Franklyn's face was red with tension. Jackson appeared to be balanced precariously between raising his wand again and submitting to Mother Newt's suggestion.
"Thank you, Professor," Petra said to the older woman across from her.
"Please," Newt said, smiling in a grandmotherly fashion, "call me Mother Newt."
Petra turned to James again and then glanced aside toward Ralph and Zane, who had also approached, their eyes wide and grave.
"I guess I'll go get the unicorn horseshoe," Zane suggested in a hushed voice. "It's still buried under the Warping Willow…"
"No need," Petra said. She let go of Lucy's hand and reached into a pocket on the front of her drab dress. James would have sworn that the pocket was too small to contain anything so large, but when Petra withdrew her hand, she was holding the silvery horseshoe. It glowed faintly and a low murmur of awe and fear thrummed through the crowd.
"Dear God," a voice said faintly. James glanced back and saw Chancellor Franklyn staring up at the horseshoe, his face draining of colour. He's figured it all out, James thought. Just like that. He is one smart fellow…
"I didn't expect we'd be doing this in front of the entire school," Ralph muttered, accepting the horseshoe as Petra handed it to him.
"It doesn't matter," Petra said, smiling wanly. She turned to Lucy and Izzy. "You both stay here. There's no need for you to come."
Izzy made no effort to let go of Petra's hand and James understood that Petra's suggestion was merely perfunctory. There was no way Izzy would consent to staying behind.
"I want to come," Lucy said, looking from Petra to James. "I want to see. I don't know anything about what's going to happen, but I'm in on it now, no matter what."
James expected Petra to forbid Lucy, but the older girl merely nodded. She looked back at Ralph, who still held the faintly glowing horseshoe.
"Let's do it," Zane announced stoically. "Let's get it over with."
Together, the three boys and three girls turned and walked up Victory Hill, approaching the corner of Apollo Mansion. The remainder of Team Bigfoot gathered silently around them, but at a careful distance. All of them could see the horseshoe shape engraved in the building's cornerstone, divided by the crack between the main house and the permanent foundation.
"What's this all about, James?" Jazmine asked quietly. James glanced back at her.
"It's… a long story," he answered after a moment. "But it's not a bad story. Petra is my friend. I have to try to help her."
"You'll tell us all about it when you get back, right?" Wentworth suggested, frowning slightly.
"Definitely," Ralph nodded, producing his large wand. Its lime-green tip glowed dimly in the moonlight.
"You want us to come too?" Gobbins asked. "Because we could, you know." The rest of the team, even the reserve players, murmured agreement.
"No," James replied, smiling, "but thanks."
"Whew," Norrick breathed. "Good luck, then. Wherever you're going, and whatever you're gonna do when you get there, good luck."
Mukthatch let out an encouraging woof.
Ralph turned around and held the horseshoe up, measuring it against the shape carved into the conjoined cornerstone.
"Petra," James asked quietly, turning to look at her, "what happened back there, in the Medical College? What happened to Keynes?"
Petra met his gaze thoughtfully. "He's still alive," she answered simply. James sensed her thoughts and sensed that this was the truth. It wasn't all of the truth, he knew, but for now, it was enough.
He moved a step closer to her so that no one else would hear. "Is it true, Petra?" he whispered. "Are you a… a sorceress?"
Her eyes hadn't left his. "Yes," she mouthed, and shrugged faintly. Tears stood in her eyes, shining dully. She tried to smile, but it faltered.
James nodded. For now, there was nothing more to say.
With a soft grating sound, Ralph pushed the unicorn horseshoe into the shape engraved in the cornerstone. There was no shocking noise or burst of magical light, and yet the crowd responded. A sigh of awe washed over the quadrangle. James looked up, as did the rest. A faint rose-coloured light glowed from every window of Apollo Mansion. It shifted softly, seeming to hint at every colour of the rainbow and even some colours that James had never imagined.