said, grabbing his arm and yanking. He let her pull him to his feet. It was Wednesday; tomorrow was the Fourth of July and the inception ceremony. There was still no word from the vicar about whether or not Joel would be able to attend, and the Scribbler had yet to strike again.
Many in the media were claiming Inspector Harding’s lockdown to be a success, and the last few holdouts on keeping Rithmatist students away were giving in.
Joel didn’t feel their same relief. He felt like an axe was hanging over them, just waiting to fall.
“Come on,” Melody said, towing him out of the basement and into the afternoon light. “Honestly, you’re going to shrivel up and turn into a professor if you don’t watch yourself.”
Joel rubbed his neck, stretching. It did feel nice to be out.
“Let’s go to the office,” Melody said, “and see if the vicar has sent you anything yet.”
Joel shrugged, and they began walking. The days were growing warm, New Britannia humidity rolling in off the ocean. The heat felt good after a morning spent down in the workshop.
As they passed the humanities building, Joel eyed a group of workers busy scrubbing the building’s side where the phrase “Go Back to Nebrask” had been scrawled two nights ago in the darkness. Harding had been furious that someone had managed to penetrate his security.
I wouldn’t be surprised if it was done by members of the student body, Joel thought. There had always been tensions between the rich, non-Rithmatic students and the Rithmatists.
Melody saw it too. “Did you hear about Virginia and Thaddius?”
“Who?”
“Rithmatists,” Melody said. “Students from the class ahead of us. They were out yesterday after church services. Ran into a mob of men who chased them and threw bottles at them. I’ve never heard of such a thing happening.”
“Are they all right?”
“Well, yes.…” Melody said, growing uncomfortable. “They drew chalklings. It made the men scatter in a heartbeat.”
Chalklings. “But—”
“No, they don’t know the Glyph of Rending,” Melody said quickly. “They wouldn’t have used it if they’d known it. Using that against people is quite a sin, you know.”
“That will still be bad,” Joel said. “Stories will spread.”
“What would you have them do? Let the mob catch them?”
“Well, no.…”
The two walked, uncomfortable, for another few moments. “Oh!” Melody said. “I just remembered. I have to stop by Making Hall.”
“What?” Joel said as she spun about.
“It’s on the way,” she said, adjusting the shoulder strap on the book bag and waving him along.
“It’s on the other dusting side of the campus!”
She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “What? A little walking is going to kill you? Come on.”
Joel grumbled, joining her.
“Guess what?” Melody said.
Joel raised an eyebrow.
“I finally got to move on from tracing,” she said. “Professor Fitch is having me work from a pattern now.”
“Great!” That was the next step—drawing the Rithmatic forms from a small design to use as a reference. It was something Melody should have mastered years ago, but he didn’t say that.
“Yes,” she said with a flip of the hand. “Give me another few months, and I’ll have this Rithmatics thing down. I’ll be able to beat any ten-year-old in a duel.”
Joel chuckled. “Why do we need to drop by Making Hall, anyway?”
Melody held up a small folded note.
“Oh, right,” Joel said. “Office deliveries.”
She nodded.
“Wait,” Joel said, frowning. “You’re doing deliveries? Is that why you came down to get me? Because you were bored doing deliveries alone?”
“Of course,” Melody said happily. “Didn’t you know that you exist to entertain me?”
“Great,” Joel said. To the side, they passed Warding Hall, where a large number of staff members were moving in and out.
“The Melee,” Joel said. “They’re getting ready for it.” It was coming up on Saturday.
Melody got a sour look on her face. “I can’t believe that they’re still holding the thing.”
“Why wouldn’t they?”
“Well, considering recent events…”
Joel shrugged. “I suspect Harding will limit attendance to students and faculty. The Scribbler attacks at night anyway. An event like this would be too well attended by Rithmatists to be a good place to try anything.”
Melody grumbled something unintelligible as they walked up the hill to Making Hall.
“What was that?” Joel asked.
“I just don’t see why they have to have the Melee in the first place,” Melody said. “I mean, what’s the point?”
“It’s fun,” Joel said. “It lets the students get some practice in with real duels and prove themselves Rithmatically. What’s your problem with it?”
“Every professor has to send at least one student to the thing,” Melody said.