Lucky Rabbit

The young clerk was left bewildered and slack-jawed, while Andres was pale with fury. Only Lady Victoria managed to maintain her composure, and that was probably due at least in part to the veil hiding her eyes and approximately forty-eight percent of her expression.

Turning to Pandy-Thaniel, Victoria spoke in a voice she undoubtedly meant to be soothing. “I’m certain you’re very confused, Nathaniel,” she said, holding out a hand. “But you don’t have to stay here. No matter what Mr. Blackwood says, you aren’t his ward, and he can’t keep you from your true family. I’m very sorry I allowed my own grief to keep me away for so long, but I’m here now, just as your dear father would have wished. I have a room set up in our manor just for you, and you needn’t worry about school or studying for the rest of the year. You need time to settle in and be indulged. Come, my lad.” She wiggled her fingers, which looked like lace-patterned spider legs, pale and oddly jointed within their fabric carapace.

Feeling an unexpected wave of revulsion, Pandy barely managed not to recoil. They knew Pandy’s disguise wouldn’t hold up under prolonged observation, so there was no way she could go with these people, even though that might be the best way to gather more information. But even if Pandy didn’t have to transform back to Bunny for most of the day, she wouldn’t have gone anywhere with this woman. Dear Uncle Andres was smarmy and annoying, but Victoria Conroy-Forrest actually felt dangerous.

“Mr. Blackwood an’ I made up,” she announced, her body stiff where it pressed up against the edge of the table. “I was just mad and sad ‘cause my friends left. But I still have friends here, and I like school. I don’t want to leave.”

She couldn’t bring herself to look away from Victoria, but she felt movement on either side of her, then warm hands grasped hers. Geraldine’s were tight and trembled ever so slightly, but Abbington’s were firm and warm. They’d each moved up to stand next to her, so the trio presented a united front. Pandy wanted to tell them to back down, not to draw attention to themselves, but it was done, and she gripped their hands gratefully.

Dropping her hold on her son’s arm, Victoria took a step closer to Pandy, the stiff fabric of her skirts making a dry shhhshhh noise as they brushed against the floor. Sound suddenly became muffled, as if all of the little mumbles and titters and the sounds of the few children who were still eating their breakfast had been squashed beneath a room-sized feather-pillow. A full body shudder shook Pandy as the eyes beneath the veil latched onto hers, pale and piercing. Hungry.

Bound. This woman was a Bound. Or perhaps it would be better to say that a Bound was wearing the woman once known as Victoria Forrest like the lace gloves that sheathed her fingers. Was this why she was wearing the veil and the gloves? Had she been Bound for long enough that her body was beginning to-

“That’s enough.”

Augustus was there, standing between Pandy and the reaching hand. All she could see was his back, but it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever laid eyes on. “I will remind you that this is a school, not a theatre. This is neither the place nor time for a performance.” His voice could have frozen hydrogen.

“You can’t stand between me and my nephew.” That was Andres, blustering and loud.

“I absolutely can stand between any of the students in my care and anyone who frightens them. Any parent who wishes to visit their child may do so, but no one else has the right to enter this school without authorization. You have no child here, and you will leave, or I will be forced to remove you,” Augustus said, and dishes clattered as a breeze swept through the room.

Peeking around Augustus, Pandy watched the wind snatch at Andres’ hair and clothes. It tried to lift Victoria’s veil, but she held it down with two fingers, staring straight into Pandy’s eyes from beyond the gauzy barrier. Pandy eeped and drew back, barely resisting the urge to dive beneath the table.

It seemed that someone else had the exact opposite idea, however, because a gray-furred, four-pawed, beribboned missile shot past Pandy, heading straight for the invaders. A rising yowl echoed through the room, almost managing to drown out Geraldine’s cry of, “Miss Cupcakes!” From beyond Augustus, someone yelled, someone else released an almost inhumanly high-pitched screech, and there was a soft thump, which was followed by the kitten’s body spinning back across the floor to stop at Pandy’s feet.

When had Pandy stood up? She didn’t know. What she did know was that Miss Cupcakes, her sometimes-friend and a Defender of the Realm, was hurt. Pandy knelt beside the kitten, already casting Minor Heal after Minor Heal, though only the first one turned out to be necessary. The kitten had been knocked back, but the assault had seemed worse than it was because of the slick floor that made her spin out when she tried to catch herself.

Minor Heal successful.

Healed Miss Cupcakes for 8 HP.

Minor Heal failed.

Target is at maximum health.

Geraldine snatched Miss Cupcakes up, cradling the kitten even as the cat herself glared and hissed in the direction of her new foes. Her fur sparked and spat, but Geraldine didn’t even seem to notice, much less act like she’d been burned or injured in any way.

Abbington stepped forward, but Pandy held up a hand. Was this what Lian felt when he looked at her? Did Clara, or Asparagus, whoever she was, get the creeping heebie-jeebies when she got close to Pandy? If so, she no longer wondered why they kept trying to Purify or Sanctify her. Pandy liked Nox and Nyssa and the adorable puffballs of darkness that were Duskins, but this… this was wrong.

<Innate Magic. Radiant Presence,> Pandy thought. <Let’s get rid of that thing.>

Her skin blazed. Light gleamed like her body was filled with ten thousand glow-sticks, all snapped at the same time. Pandy stepped out from behind Augustus, barely noticing that everything around her was suddenly bleached and pale, blown out by the power of her brilliance. She advanced toward the thing wearing a dead woman’s face – not threatening, just walking, and Victoria backed away.

“Get out,” Pandy said, and the Demon did.

A shadow rose through Lady Victoria Forrest’s pale skin, shedding the body so it fell in a boneless heap. The Demon was a dark shadow; darker than any blackness except that which Pandy found herself in when she stood between life and death. It lit around the edges, absorbing her light before fading into the thin, jagged line of a match that had burned itself out. Even that twisted, shrieked, metal gouging glass, disappearing into a line torn in the world, a gap where no gap should be.

+200 CP for Releasing a Bound

Might wanna turn off the lightshow before you burn out.

Again.

<Cancel Innate Magic. Cancel Radiant Presence,> Pandy thought before her knees gave way. She sagged, but strong arms caught her before she could hit the ground. Her vision swung dizzily, and she was distantly glad to see that most of the students had fled the immediate area, chairs overturned and children pressing themselves against the wall. Unharmed. Safe. Except one. A dark-haired girl lay on the ground, with a blonde kneeling over her, eyes streaming. Dark mages didn’t react well to Light. Which was exactly what Radiant Presence was, no matter how little sense it made that Pandy could use it.

“I guess I’d better polish my resume after all, Rabbit,” Augustus murmured as he carried her to the door. Over his shoulder, she watched as Sir Bailey, whose cover would probably also be blown, seized both Andres and the Third-Level Clerk of Special Disbursements. Andres was staring at the body of his mother, horror but no surprise writ large on his face. Clerk the Third was doing horror enough for both of them, his eyes huge and rolling wildly as he made a keening sound low in his throat.

Mistress Rose rushed toward Suzanne, gathering the girl into her arms, her expression a mask of professional neutrality. The staff and other teachers moved in as well, not a single one panicking, though some looked shaken, to say the least. Children were crying. Pandy had a bad feeling there would be a lot of explaining to do, and Augustus was almost certainly the one who would have to do it.

“I’m sorry,” she said, curling in on herself, feeling the hard lump on her chest where the pseudo-heartstone sat.

“It’s all right,” Augustus murmured, and she felt them rising as he climbed the stairs to his office. His for how long though? He liked being chancellor, and she’d ruined it, just like she ruined everything. Why had she allowed herself to hope, to think that this time, this world, might be different?

“What in Ismara’s name is going on?”

The strident voice rose over the hubbub coming from below, and Augustus paused with his hand on the doorknob of his office. Half-turning, he and Pandy looked down at the entryway below, where Lady Frances and Lady Arabelle stood, having just arrived for the day.

“I’ll explain in a bit, Aunt,” Augustus called down, and the two aunts looked up, each probably wondering which of them he was speaking to. Lady Frances’ eyes narrowed in on Pandy-Thaniel, still cradled in Augustus’s arms, and she looked worried.

“Is the child all right?” she asked, then glanced around. Teachers were beginning to lead students off toward the classrooms, each group together with several adults who seemed to be predetermined, judging by the orderliness of the retreat. Had Pandy missed some disaster preparedness drills? “Augustus, what in the world-?”

“I’ll explain in a bit,” Augustus said again, some of his frustration and anger slipping into his voice. He was usually so good at keeping his emotions under control. Pandy had really messed up. Really really really messed up, and there were no goldfish or elephants or even a mime around to blame it on.

“Augustus?” A little voice said, and they all turned, focusing on the boy standing in the office doorway. Thaniel’s hair was tousled, as it usually was if it hadn’t just been combed, and he was holding the little toy sword Pandy had gotten for him for the Day of Gratitude. The top hat worn by the skull and crossbones emblazoned on its hilt stuck out of the other side of his fist, somehow not at all incongruous when in combination with his shin-length nightshirt.

“Thaniel?” A second voice asked, and Bryan Conroy stepped out of a patch of shadow tucked into the same nook below the stairs where Pandy liked to shift between forms. He wore the uniform of a Falconet servant, and his face was freshly shaved. He looked almost like a totally normal person, other than the deep shadows beneath his eyes, which were the same color as those of his son.

“Papa?” Thaniel whispered, Pirate Pete’s sword falling from his grip to thunk against his toes. He yelped, yanking back the injured foot and tucking it behind the other leg like a particularly adorable flamingo. Bryan couldn’t possibly have seen what had happened from his vantage point almost directly beneath them, but there was no mistaking the startled pain the sound Thaniel made.

Automatically, Pandy cast Minor Heal.

Minor Heal successful.

Healed Thaniel for 2 HP.

Something that had been wrapped around Bryan’s neck, tucked underneath the collar of his shirt, twisted free and looked up at Pandy, though she was absolutely certain it didn’t have any eyes, or, in fact, any other appendages or protuberances. Except then it did. Large, bright eyes blinked at her, and a sound like a giggle reached her brain without bothering to use something so plebian as her ears on the way by.

Augustus sighed. Holding Pandy-Thaniel close, he stepped to the edge of the balcony. “Ms. Davenport?” he called.

There was only a moment of silence before the hall supervisor’s crisp tones replied, “Yes, Mr. Blackwood?”

“Are all of the students safe and accounted for?”

Ms. Davenport’s narrow figure stepped into the open from the door leading toward the classroom wing. Her face was completely calm. “They have been evacuated to the library, per protocol, sir. Professor Beeswick has them in his care. There are a few bumps and bruises, and Suzanne will need a few days to recover after being exposed to an antithetical element, but Mistress Rose assures me all will be well.”

“I expect many of the parents will want their children home,” Augustus said dryly. “See to it. Keep track of who goes where and with whom. We don’t need to lose any students now.”

“Of course, Mr. Blackwood,” Ms. Davenport said, her voice distinctly chilly this time.

With a small sigh, Augustus said, “Thank you, Ms. Davenport. Aunts,” he looked down at them, then focused on Bryan, “Lord Conroy. You may as well join us in my office. Now.”

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