“Yeah. If this were about creating a national crisis, then he could have just taken the knight-senator.”
Joel was forced to admit that she was right. What were the Scribbler’s motives? Was it about Rithmatists, or about driving a wedge between the islands? If it was just about killing or kidnapping students, then where had the new Rithmatic lines come from, and why were the wild chalklings involved? Or were they really? Could ordinary chalklings be instructed to act like wild ones to throw the police off?
Joel and Melody arrived at the library, and they went in, dropping off Nalizar’s books. Ms. Torrent gave them one of her trademark looks of displeasure as she checked the books in, then checked the book on potential Rithmatic lines back out to Melody.
They left, and Melody handed the book to Joel.
He tucked it under his arm. “Weren’t we going to the office to look for a note from the vicar?”
“I suppose,” she said, sighing.
“You’re down, all of a sudden.”
“I’m like that,” she said. “Wild mood swings. It makes me more interesting. Anyway, you have to admit that it hasn’t been a pleasant afternoon you’ve shown me. I got to see Nalizar—dreamy as he is—but I was also forced to think about the Melee.”
“You almost sound like it’s my fault,” Joel said.
“Well,” she said, “I wasn’t going to say it myself, but since you pointed it out, I find myself persuaded. You really should apologize to me.”
“Oh please.”
“Don’t you feel the least bit sorry for me?” she asked. “Having to go and be laughed at by the entire school populace?”
“Maybe you’ll hold your own.”
She regarded him flatly. “Have you seen one of my circles, Joel?”
“You’re getting better.”
“The Melee is in three days!”
“Okay,” he admitted. “You don’t have a chance. But, well, the only way to learn is by trying!”
“You really are like a professor.”
“Hey!” Joel said as they approached the office building. “I resent that. I’ve worked very hard during my school career to be a delinquent. I’ll bet I’ve failed more classes than you have.”
“I doubt that,” she said haughtily. “And, even if you did, I doubt you failed them as spectacularly or as embarrassingly as I did.”
He chuckled. “Point conceded. Nobody’s as spectacularly embarrassing as you, Melody.”
“That’s not what I said.”
They approached the office, and Joel could see Harding’s police guarding there. “Well, one good part about all this,” Melody said. “If Principal York restricts the Melee to students and faculty, then I won’t have to be embarrassed in front of my parents.”
“Wait. They’d actually come?”
“They always come to the Melee,” she said, grimacing. “Particularly when one of their children is in it.”
“When you talk about them, it sounds like you think they hate you or something.”
“It’s not that. It’s just … well, they’re important people. Busy doing stuff. They don’t have much time for the daughter who can’t seem to get Rithmatics right.”
“It can’t be that bad,” Joel said.
She raised an eyebrow at him. “I have two brothers and one sister, all older than me, all Rithmatists. Each one won the Melee at least twice during their careers. William won all four years he was eligible.”
“Wow,” Joel said.
“And I can’t even do a straight circle,” Melody said, walking quickly. Joel hurried to catch up to her.
“They’re not bad people,” she said. “But, well, I think it’s easy for them to have me here. Floridia is far enough away that they don’t have to see me often. I could probably go home on weekends—I did during the early years. Lately, though, with William’s death … well, it’s not really a very happy place at home.”
“Wait,” Joel said, “death?”
She shrugged. “Nebrask is dangerous.”
Death, Joel thought. At Nebrask. And her last name is …
Muns. Joel stopped short.
Melody turned.
“Your brother,” Joel said. “How old was he?”
“Three years older than me,” Melody said.
“He died last year?”
She nodded.
“Dusts!” Joel said. “I saw his obituary in the lists Professor Fitch gave me.”
“So?”
“So,” Joel said, “Professor Nalizar was involved in the death of a Rithmatic student last year. That’s why he was sent away from the battlefront. Maybe it’s connected! Maybe—”
“Joel,” Melody snapped, drawing his attention.
He blinked, regarding her, seeing the distress in her eyes, hidden behind anger.
“Don’t involve William,” she said. “I just … Don’t. If you have to look for conspiracies around Nalizar, do it. But don’t talk about my brother.”
“I’m sorry,” Joel said. “But … if Nalizar was involved, don’t you want to know?”
“He was involved,” Melody said. “Nalizar led a team past the