“I don’t want to talk about it,” Exton said.
“Oh, come on,” Florence said.
Exton stopped writing, then stood up. He took his coat and bowler hat off their hooks on the wall. “I’ll take my break now, I think.”
With that, he left the building.
“Grouch,” Florence called after him.
A short time later, the door to the principal’s office opened and Inspector Harding walked out, blue suit pressed and neat as always. He picked up his rifle, which he’d left sitting outside the principal’s office, then slung it over his shoulder.
“I will see about those patrols,” Harding said to Principal York. “We won’t let something like the brick incident occur again, sir, I assure you.”
York nodded. Harding seemed to regard the principal with quite a bit of respect—perhaps because the principal looked like a battlefield general, with his large frame and drooping mustache.
“I have the most up-to-date list for you, Inspector,” Florence said, standing and handing him a sheet.
Harding scanned it, face going slightly red.
“What is it?” Principal York asked.
Inspector Harding looked up. “An oversight on my part, sir. There are still fourteen Rithmatist students whose parents refuse to send them to the academy for protection. That is unacceptable.”
“It’s not your fault that parents are stubborn, Inspector,” York said.
“I make it my responsibility, sir,” Harding said. “If you’ll excuse me.” He walked out of the room, nodding to Joel as he passed.
“Ah, Joel,” Principal York said. “Come in, son.”
Joel crossed into the principal’s office and, once again, sat down in the chair before the overly large desk, feeling like a small animal looking up at a towering human master.
“You wanted to talk to me about my grades, sir?” Joel asked as York sat down.
“Actually, no,” York said. “That was an excuse that you will forgive, I hope.” He folded his arms before him on the desk. “Things are happening on my campus, son. It’s my job to keep an eye on them all as best I can. I need information from you.”
“Sir?” Joel said. “With all due respect, I’m just a student. I don’t know how much help I can be. I don’t really like the idea of spying on Professor Fitch, anyway.”
York chuckled. “You’re not spying, son. I had Fitch in here yesterday, and I just talked to Harding. I trust both men. What I really want is unbiased opinions. I need to know what is happening, and I can’t be everywhere. I’d like you to tell me about the things you’ve seen and done while working with Fitch.”
And so, over the next hour, Joel did so. He talked about the census studies, his experience visiting the scene of Charles Calloway’s disappearance, and the things he’d read. York listened. As the hour progressed, Joel found his respect for the principal growing.
York did care, and he was willing to listen to the opinions and thoughts of a simple, non-Rithmatic student. As Joel neared the end of his explanation, he tried to decide if he should mention his suspicions about Nalizar. He eyed the principal, who had gotten out his pen and had begun scribbling notes as Joel spoke.
“All right,” York said, looking up. “Thank you, Joel. This is precisely what I needed.”
“You’re welcome, sir,” Joel said. “But … well, there is one other thing.”
“Yes?”
“Sir,” Joel said. “I think Nalizar might have something to do with all of this.”
York leaned in. “What makes you say that?”
“Nothing really substantial,” Joel said. “Coincidences, really. Nalizar showing up when he did mixed with some of the things he’d done.”
“Such as?”
Joel flushed, realizing how foolish he sounded. He was sitting in the principal’s office, accusing one of the men York himself had hired.
“I…” Joel said, his eyes dropping. “I’m sorry, sir. I spoke out of turn.”
“No you didn’t. I’m suspicious of Nalizar too.”
Joel looked up with a start.
“I can’t decide,” York said, “if it’s simply my dislike of the man that is making me react this way, or if there is more. Nalizar has spent a lot of time in the office trying to find out more about the investigation. I keep asking myself if that’s because he wants to know how much we know, or if he’s just jealous.”
“Jealous?”
York nodded. “I don’t know if you realize this or not, but Professor Fitch is gaining quite a bit of notoriety. The press got hold of his name, and now he’s mentioned in nearly every article having to do with the disappearances. Apparently, he’s the federal inspectors’ ‘secret weapon against the kidnappers.’”
“Wow,” Joel said.
“Either way,” York continued, “I wish I’d never hired Nalizar. He has tenure, however, and firing him would be very difficult—and I really have no proof he is involved. So I ask again: What specifically makes you suspect him?”
“Well,” Joel said, “do you remember what I told you about new Rithmatic lines? I saw Nalizar checking out a book from the library that was about new Rithmatic lines and their possible existence.”
“Anything else?”
“He left his building the other night,” Joel said. “The night Charles Calloway was kidnapped. I was out walking and saw him.”
York rubbed his chin. “You’re right,” he said. “That’s hardly compelling evidence.”
“Principal,” Joel said. “Do you know why Nalizar is even here? I mean, if he’s such a great hero at Nebrask, then why is he at a school teaching rather than fighting the wild chalklings?”
York studied Joel for a few seconds.
“Sir?” Joel finally asked.
“I’m trying to decide if I should tell you or not,” the principal said. “To be honest, son, this is somewhat sensitive information.”
“I can keep a secret.”
“I don’t doubt that,” York said. “It’s still my responsibility to decide what I tell and what I don’t.” He tapped his fingers together. “There was an … incident at Nebrask.”
“What kind of incident?”
“The death of a Rithmatist,” York said. “Regardless of what many people here in the east claim, a death at Nebrask is always treated with solemnity by the war cabinet. In this case, there were lots of fingers pointed, and it was decided that some men—such as Nalizar—would be better off reassigned to nonactive duty.”
“So he killed someone?”
“No,” York said, “he was involved in an incident where a young Rithmatist was killed by the wild chalklings. Nalizar was never implicated, and shouldn’t have been, from what I read. When I interviewed him for his job here, Nalizar blamed political forces for trying to save their own hides from a blemish on their records. That sort of thing is common enough that I believed him. Still do, actually.”
“But…”
“But it’s suspicious,” York agreed. “Tell me, what do these new lines you discovered look like?”
“Can I have a pen?”
York loaned him one, then gave him a sheet of paper. Joel drew the swirling, looping pattern that had been discovered at all three crime scenes. “Nobody knows what it is, but at least we know that it is Rithmatic now.”
York rubbed his chin, holding up the paper. “Hum … yes. You know, it’s strange, but this looks oddly familiar to me for some reason.”
Joel’s heart skipped a beat. “It does?”
York nodded. “Probably nothing.”
Why would he have seen it? Joel thought. Principal York hasn’t studied Rithmatics. What do the two of us have in common? Just the school.
The school, and …
Joel looked up, eyes widening as he remembered—finally—where he’d seen that pattern before.
Chapter 18
Joel left the office, giving a rushed farewell to York and Florence. He didn’t tell anyone what he’d just realized. He needed to confirm it for himself first.
Joel took off down the path toward the dormitory building, moving at a brisk walk. He resisted running—with how tense the campus was, that would probably draw more attention than he wanted.
Unfortunately, he caught sight of Melody walking back down the path toward the office, her deliveries apparently finished. He winced, ducking to the side. But of course she saw him.
“Joel!” she called. “I have decided that I’m brilliant!”
“I don’t have much time right now…” he said as she rushed over to him.
“Blah, blah,” she said. “Look, I’ve got something exciting to tell you. Aren’t you thrilled!”
“Yeah,” Joel said, starting down the pathway again. “I’ll talk to you about it later.”
“Hey!” Melody said, then pulled up beside him. “Are you trying to ignore me again?”
“Again?” Joel said. “I’ve never tried to ignore you.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Look, during those first weeks, weren’t you mad at me because you thought I was stalking you?”
“Past, gone, dead,” she said. “No, listen, this is really important. I think I found a way for you to become a Rithmatist.”
Joel nearly tripped over his own feet.
“Ha!” Melody said. “I figured that would get your attention.”
“Did you say that just to get me to stop?”
“Dusts, no. Joel, I told you, I’m brilliant!”
“Tell me about it as we walk,” Joel said, moving again. “There’s something I need to check on.”
“You’re strange today, Joel,” she said, catching up to him.
“I’ve just figured something out,” he said, reaching the family dormitory building. “Something that’s been bugging me for a long time.” He climbed the steps up to the second floor, Melody tagging along behind.
“I don’t appreciate being treated like this, Joel,” she said. “Don’t you realize that I’ve spent days and days working on a way to pay you back for vouching for me in front of Harding? Now, I come to tell you, and you repay me by running about like a crazy man? I’m starting to take it personally.”
Joel stopped, then sighed, looking toward her. “We’ve discovered new kinds of Rithmatic lines at each of the crime scenes where students were kidnapped.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. One of them looked familiar to me. I couldn’t remember why, but Principal York just said something that reminded me of where I’d seen it. So I’m going to make sure.”
“Ah,” she said. “And … once you’re done with that, you’ll be able to give proper attention to my stunning, brilliant, amazing announcement?”
“Sure,” Joel said.