By Ryan Walsh

 

Principal Creech was supposed to be doing better. He was in his office, his territory; one of several places arranged and modified specifically to give him security and power. He was wearing his corduroy jacket with defensive runes sewn into the lining in silver thread. Along with his retro-fashion shirt and gray wool slacks, he thought he looked very smart. He should have felt nigh invincible, but with his current guests he felt insecure. He was an experienced man, knew his job around children, and had long since forgotten how to show fear. Had he been clearer of mind he would have realized why he felt this sudden need to tear the top page of his notepad into identical squares. He pushed himself away from the desk and got out a bottle of scotch, one of his better ones, and offered some to his current guests, the Lucients; Mikhail and Hannah, parents of his latest problem child, Marie. They declined: so much for getting them hammered.

“We find it a little distressing that you habitually drink scotch at nine in the morning,” Hannah said. She was speaking for both of them. She was 5’ 11”, blonde, right out of a men’s magazine, but wore khaki trousers and a thick, Kevlar-silk blouse with a low neck-line under a long hunter’s cloak. The pale figure that could barely keep his eyes open was a disappointing image compared to the one built up around the great hunter Mikhail Lucient. This version wore a full suit with a thin dress cloak. The feared, popular iteration of Mikhail was supposed to be vigorous, ready to work at an instant’s notice, but the man who sat across from Creech seemed half-dead.

Creech poured himself a double, hoping the courage would give him strength to use that later.

“Alcohol is the primary ingredient in so many entreaties to the powers above, Madame. I simply don’t care for wine.”

“You feel defensive, do you?”

Creech hated her already. 

“Mrs. Lucient, this school has been instructing young people in the black and otherwise mystical arts for the past two centuries. A man such as myself does not serve as principal for over twenty years without knowing how to protect himself from volatile and emotionally insecure magic users, which I point out is exactly what has brought you here today.”

If Mikhail was paying attention, he didn’t show it, but Hannah was as sharp as a harpy’s talon.

“I’ve read every notice this school has sent home about Marie, and until now they’ve been exemplary. Reading is hardly the issue as it seems you refuse to comprehend the full details of the matter. Not surprising, given you can’t even spell ‘corporeal’ consistently.”

“The full details?” Creech started. “Let’s get right to those, shall we? Your daughter intentionally cast an unfocused rune circle on the classroom blackboard.”

“That is not true! Marie drew it on there with chalk, just as she was told to by the teacher.”

“Oh? I have witness testimony and extracted memories of your daughter sitting at her desk and…”

“She drew the circle and sat back down,” Hannah said. “She noticed she’d made an error and, not wanting to get back up and embarrass herself, cast the correction on the board.  It was perfectly innocent.”

“This ‘harmless gesture’, as you put it, created a cycle of raw energy which destroyed half the classroom…”

“Well, maybe if your teachers would tell their students WHY they’re writing the circles in chalk rather than just casting them, they’d know better!”

“…injuring the teacher and fifteen students…”

“Marie was one of those injured, and she feels miserable about the whole thing; isn’t that what you’re looking for?”

“…and killing the class familiar, Hugh the Owl, who’d been with the school his entire life, Mrs. Lucient. I’m not looking for your daughter to feel remorse, I’d hope that’d come naturally. No, I’m afraid we’re here to discuss Marie’s future education.  AWAY from this academy.”

“You can NOT be serious!  Expulsion for a simple accident?”

“People have been injured, Mrs. Lucient, not to mention the property damage and the emotional trauma the children have suffered. They shouldn’t be exposed to such explosions for at least two years.  Punishment MUST follow such behavior, and as the one most directly responsible, your daughter is going to accept that punishment.” The scotch was doing wonders, Creech noticed, hoping he’d remember the brand for later.

Hannah stood up, her face betraying nothing, and leaned into his desk. Were she a man, this would be a gesture of intimidation, but she was most definitely a she, and the booze was trying to betray Creech by pulling his eyes downwards, but he didn’t dare break eye contact.

“Principal Creech, while I respect your need to project a sense of authority, and no doubt you’ve researched precedents in accidents like these, I’ve done my own reading into this school’s history, and in every similar case the accused parties were allowed to resume studies here. Without exception. So why are you threatening expulsion here?  Now? With… us?”

Creech took a drink.

“Well, Madame Lucient, it seems as thought you know a lot about this school’s history. Perhaps you’d like to refresh my memory.”
Hannah blinked. Creech praised the cosmos; he’d actually made a Lucient blink.

“Adam Beranek,” she began “sent one row of bleachers through the gym room, trying to start a wave: a clear case of overexcitement. Then there was Audry Sumosian and her band blowing out every window in the school during a performance, which incidentally brought in more money than the damages cost. And there’s also-*”

She stopped short and looked down. Creech followed her gaze and saw that Mikhail had put his hand on hers, calling for silence. Mikhail’s gaze, still surrounded in black pits of fatigue, was fixed on Principal Creech.

“How much?” Mikhail asked.

Hannah went a new shade of white, but Creech let a hint of a smile shine through.  It was refreshing for him to meet a parent who understood the way funds were raised these days.
 
“The damages to the classrooms, the one Marie was in AND those surrounding it, will cost the school about five-thousand rubles to replace. Of course, to prevent such accidents, we’ll want to upgrade the magical wards in all the rooms, which we estimate could cost as much as ten-thousand rubles, but it’s a small price to pay for our children’s safety, is it not?”

Hannah looked as though she were trying to tear herself apart, incapable of attacking either her husband or the principal with her total fury. Mikhail, slowly and with noted discomfort, pulled a disk out of his pocket and turned the dials on it carefully. It began to glow when he’d found the right configuration and spoke into it so softly no-one else could hear. It made Creech’s heart jump when a voice boomed from the disk “TRANSACTION COMPLETED” and scrambled itself dormant again.

“I’ve released fifteen thousand rubles from the family account into a temporary locker. I’ll tell you which locker and its combination once we put all this expulsion nonsense behind us.”

“The hells you will!” Hannah told her husband. “I will NOT let this conniving, deceitful, petty human extort money from us. It was a simple accident, he knows it, everyone knows it. He just wants to bleed us as much as he can for it, and I refuse to let him profit by it! I’ll pull Marie out rather than let her be surrounded by leeches like this thing here! I am going to destroy you for this, Cree-“

“Hannah,” Mikhail said, in what would have to do for a yell, “accident or not, whether she meant to or not, Marie did cast a dangerous spell onto the wall. I find the situation as abominable as you do, but at the moment that’s not important: the school does need repairs, amends have to be made by someone, and as her parents it’s going to be us.” Creech had to accept that, even half-dead, the man had a keen mind for problem-solving.

Creech told them, “It’s refreshing to see that there are still parents left in the world who understand the true essence of responsibility. So long as you can pass that on to your daughter, I see no reason why she cannot continue her education here at our institution.”

Hannah made a noise in disgust that sounded like it came from a troll, but Mikhail just nodded and held out a weak hand. “Then we’re in agreement.”

Creech took his hand, but before he could shake it, the muscles in Mikhail’s hand flexed and tightened around Creech’s with a strength he never expected. He made to yell, but Mikhail drew him in close, giving him the idea that speaking wouldn’t be wise.

“Now,” Mikhail whispered, “seeing as I’ve effectively purchased a part of this school, I feel I have a voice in what happens here. Drawing rune circles is certainly essential learning, but what the kids really need is to know WHY they can be drawn, but not cast in a classroom. My daughter’s very intuitive, as we all know, and if she doesn’t learn such things in the classroom, she’ll learn them on her own, unpredictable as that may be.”

“Y-yes, yes, I believe you have a point the-”

“And IF we find that Marie is not getting the education she needs, we’ll make sure the responsible parties make amends.”

“I understand,” Creech assured him. “I’ll make sure all the instructors know to…“
 
“Oh no, Mr. Creech, you don’t. You follow Astral Ball, don’t you? You know what happens when a team just can’t make it into the championship? The players get yelled at, sure, but the only one who’s fired is the coach.”  Mikhail released him then, and Creech practically fell into the seat behind his desk. “And you’d be amazed what we can do with fire.”

Once they were certain the door had been closed behind them and Principal Creech would not follow them into the hallway, Mikhail let his wife take some of his weight as they made their way out of the school. She took it, but not nearly as much as he was hoping.

“You don’t like the way I handled that in there?” Mikhail didn’t need to ask.

“He kidnapped our daughter’s education and we just paid the ransom. How could I feel anything but loathing?  And you, I can’t believe you actually went along with it!”

“I didn’t exactly let him off for free, either. Besides, if we had fought it, which one of us would’ve told Marie she couldn’t come here anymore?”  Hannah had to concede to that; for reasons she’d never comprehend, Marie loved it at the academy.

“I swear, I’ll never understand that child. I still think she’s not mine.”

“What?  You carried her to term, how is it she’s not yours now?”

“I don’t have all the details yet, but once I do I’ll make you both pay.”

“Ugh, just take me to bed, woman.”

“Oh hush, you needed a good beating. There’s no other way I can get you to play good cop.”