"What?"
Headmaster Meris leaned forward in his chair, the springs creaking in protest. His bushy white eyebrows formed perfect arches above bewildered eyes.
Valiant blinked rapidly, his whiskers twitching with barely contained energy. He wore a charcoal suit at least two sizes too large, the sleeves rolled up multiple times to free his paws. A silver pin in the shape of a lightning bolt adorned his lapel, occasionally emitting tiny sparks.
"What do you mean 'what'?" Valiant squeaked, tail lashing behind him. "What did you not understand in what I just said?"
"Nothing, to be quite frank," Meris replied, adjusting his spectacles. "Absolutely nothing at all."
"Oh!" Valiant's ears perked up. "Well, that's great then! So, my name is Valiant, and me and my goons—"
"Not your goons, little boss," rumbled Thormund from behind him.
"It's a figure of speech," Valiant hissed, turning to face his companion. He lowered his voice to what he apparently thought was a whisper. "Don't embarrass me in front of the mage."
The "whisper" was perfectly audible to everyone in the room, including Meris, who maintained a look of polite interest despite the situation.
Valiant cleared his throat, tugged at his oversized collar, and turned back to the Headmaster.
"So. My name is Valiant. I am an information broker with an extensive spy network throughout Arkhos. My associates and I—" he gestured grandly to the three people standing behind him, "—have uncovered some deeply troubling information regarding Farmusian activities in the city."
"Yes, I understood that part," Meris said, tapping a quill against his desk.
Valiant's tail froze mid-swish. "Then what didn't you understand?!"
"Perhaps you could repeat the part about Farmus and the attack," Meris suggested mildly. "Just to be certain we're on the same page."
Valiant's whiskers drooped. He shot an aggrieved look at his companions, as if they might rescue him from the indignity of repetition.
"Really?" he muttered, small paws fidgeting with his oversized cufflinks. "You want me to say it all again? The entire thing? Word for word? As if I hadn't spent twenty minutes explaining every single detail while you just sat there looking... looking... headmastery?"
Meris waited, expression unchanged, hands folded neatly on his desk.
"Fine," Valiant grumbled, smoothing his suit jacket with jerky motions. "But I'm abbreviating."
"Naaaaah," Valiant dragged the word out unconvincingly. "He's definitely not a student. At all. I swear."
"So it is a 'he,'" Meris noted, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips. "That narrows the pool of possibilities considerably."
Valiant froze, his eyes widening as he realized his mistake. He glanced at Thormund, who gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.
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"Well, that's all we came to say!" Valiant declared abruptly, jumping down from his chair. "Very busy day ahead. Information to broker. Spies to spy on. You know how it is."
He began backing toward the door, his companions following his lead with varying degrees of reluctance.
"Keep the notebook. A gift. No charge. Professional courtesy," Valiant babbled, fumbling with the doorknob behind him. "We'll be in touch. Or not. Probably not. Forget we were here."
The door swung open, and Valiant nearly tumbled backward through it.
"But if you need us—" he added, poking his head back in.
"I know how to find you," Meris finished for him.
"That's what I'm afraid of," Valiant muttered, and then he was gone, the rapid patter of his tiny feet echoing down the corridor.
Thormund lingered for a moment, exchanging a meaningful look with Meris before following his employer.
Meris watched the door close behind Thormund's broad back. The office settled into a familiar silence, broken only by the ticking of the ornate clock in the corner. He pulled the leather-bound notebook closer and began to flip through the pages.
The information was meticulous—dates, times, locations. Sketches of faces with annotations about distinctive features. Maps of Arkhos with routes marked in different colors. Lists of purchased items with quantities and vendors noted.
As he read, Meris's expression grew increasingly grave. The sparks of concern ignited by Valiant's erratic explanation were fanned into a steady flame by the cold, hard evidence before him.
After several minutes, he closed the notebook and sighed.
"Never a dull moment," he muttered to himself, rubbing his temples. "Some dark days ahead, indeed."
"This isn't a failure," the professor assured them. "It simply means that particular pairing wasn't meant to be. Many druids try several companions before finding their match."
Heartbreaking, Zuni commented privately to Adom. Though I must say, Bixby looks rather relieved. Poor Tanner hasn't the faintest idea how to communicate. All static and shouting.
Adom glanced at Tanner's quillick—a tawny creature with unusually large ears. Now that Zuni mentioned it, the quillick did look somewhat relieved.
"What's Bixby saying?" Tanner asked, noticing Adom's glance.
Adom hesitated. "He, uh... appreciates the effort you've made."
What a diplomatic translation, Zuni snorted mentally. What he actually said was 'thank the Great Oak it's over, my ears may never recover.'
Adom suppressed a smile.
Understanding other beings had been useful, helping struggling classmates understand their companions. Though sometimes, like now, discretion seemed the better part of valor.
Orrin is quite distraught about leaving Jace, Zuni observed, gesturing with his head toward a gray quillick across the room. They were close to breaking through. Another week might have done it.
Professor Elowen was still speaking. "Those of you who have formed bonds, please stay after class to discuss your options going forward. The rest of you, please bring your quillicks and carriers to the front."
A slow procession formed as students reluctantly approached the desk. Some quillicks went willingly into their carriers. Others required coaxing.
Adom realized with a start that he and Zuni had never actually discussed what would happen today. The thought of returning the small blue creature had simply... never occurred to him. Zuni had become such a constant presence, it was like contemplating returning his own arm.
You've gone very quiet, Zuni noted, pressing his warm weight against Adom's neck.
"I just realized we never talked about... this," Adom replied, gesturing to the students saying goodbye to their quillicks.
Ah. You're wondering if I'll be returning to the academy's care.
"Will you?" Adom asked, surprised by how much the answer suddenly mattered.
Fishing for compliments, are we? Zuni's mental voice carried its usual dry humor, but there was something softer underneath. I must say, I've grown rather accustomed to our arrangement. The food is better, for one thing. Your pockets are warmer than the academy nests. And I've developed a habit for sugar now.
Before Adom could respond, Professor Elowen appeared beside their desk.
"Mr. Sylla," she said, "might I have a word?"
*****
Rather direct, aren't we? Zuni remarked, recovering some of his usual dry tone.
"Life is unpredictable," Adom continued, thinking of his own rebirth and all the impossibilities he'd already witnessed. "I'm not going to avoid something good just because it might not last forever."
He looked directly at Zuni. "So, what do you say? Want to stick together? Fair warning—my life gets complicated sometimes."
My dear friend, Zuni replied, your 'complicated' is my 'entertainingly unpredictable.' I accept your offer. The academy nests are dreadfully drafty anyway.
Professor Elowen watched the exchange with visible interest, though she could only hear Adom's side of the conversation.
"How fascinating," she said. "You've reached an advanced level of druidism in months, Mr. Sylla, yet I didn't sense it as an innate talent in you. It's almost as if..."
She trailed off, studying him with renewed curiosity.
"As if?" Adom prompted.
"No," she finished. "That's a discussion for another time." She smiled, the curiosity replaced by warmth. "I hope the two of you have many adventures together. May your paths be green and your waters clear."
Druidic blessing, Zuni explained. Rather traditional, but she means well.
"Thank you, Professor," Adom said.
"Class is ended," she said, stepping back. "Take care of each other."
As they headed for the door, Zuni pressed his head against Adom's jaw.
Twenty years, he mused. I suppose I'd better make them count.
"We both will," Adom promised.