“Hello?”
Grim stopped packing the demonology books into a box. He straightened up at hearing the voice.
“Hello!” he called back, and went to the doorway of the magic room. A woman, dressed in what looked like a business suit, was standing in the middle of the hallway. She held her tote bag close to her, a little frightented.
“Morning,” Grim said, smiling, and came down the stairs. “How can I help you?”
“I saw an advertisement in the university about different classes.”
“Yes, that would be me. That ad is kind of old.”
“It was sort of buried under the promotional posters for Arachnos,” she said, and smiled, starting to relax.
“Well, my initial hope was to provide an academy where people would both learn and teach. It didn’t quite pan out. What’s your name?”
“Ashlee Riel.”
“I’m Michael LeBonte.” He held out his hand. “My magician’s name is Grimaulkin.”
“Oh! What does that mean?”
“It means ‘grey cat’ in Gaelic. It’s also the name of the witches’ cat in Shakespeare’s Macbeth.” He decided not to mention the demoness. “I’m a mage, so I use my magic name when dealing with de–, spirits.”
“I saw that on the list. And fighting, and robotics too.”
“The robotics professor isn’t around anymore,” he said, remembering back that he had killed the boy. “Magic and fighting, yes.”
“What kind of magic?”
“Why don’t we go sit down.” He started to lead her to the small kitchenette. “Can I get you anything? Water? Juice?”
“Water’s good.”
He ducked into the fridge and pulled out two bottled waters. He took his and drew a rune on the bottom. The liquid turned dark and fizzy. At least his alchemic abilities hadn’t faded. He opened the water with a pop of carbon dioxide.
Ashlee stared at him, wide-eyed. “How did you do that?”
“It’s called alchemy. Changing one thing into another of the same class. I know it can be done across classes, but I’m not that good.”
“Wow.”
“Want anything special, then?” He motioned to her water.
“No, this is fine.” She sipped it gingerly.
“So what do you want to learn?”
“Magic.”
“Any specific kind?”
“Protection.”
He tilted his head. “Are you in trouble?”
She looked up at him, a totally blank and unfocused look on her face, as if she’d been stunned. He knew what that meant: a compulsion spell. Whatever it was, even if she thought about it, would seemingly freeze her mind so she wouldn’t be able to think about that – or anything – for a moment. It was similar to a waking seizure.
She focused slowly and then looked at him. “What were we talking about?”
He knew twenty questions wouldn’t help divine what was going on. “You’d like to learn protection magic.”
She nodded.
“Do you know anything about magic?”
“No, not really.”
Was she a battery for someone? Or was her magical ability buried somehow under the compulsion? Something was drawing her here, something buried in her subconscious wanted protection. The old Grim would take her in the back and study her, or help her expecting to get power out of her. This time, he would give her what she wanted and guide her through.
“I’ll have the first class on Thursday at six. So far you’re my only student.” He smiled, hoping that would make her feel comfortable.
She looked at her watch. “I’d better be heading back to work.”
“All right. Your first class is free. Any others after that, you’ll have to pay per credit.” Of course, he hadn’t drawn up the tuition scale yet.
“That’s all right,” she said. “I’ll see you on Thursday, then. I might get some friends, since it’s free.”
“The more the merrier.” He escorted her to the door. “See you then.” He closed the door after her and leaned against it. Now I have to draw up a curriculum.
Words: 652
Inspiration: What the heck is Grim doing on his downtime?
Music: Ebla – e. s. Posthumus.
Comments: You’ll have to read back a few stories to catch the clue.