Professor Rook

“We are her friends and we’re helping to care for her,” said Professor Rook quickly, walking toward the doctor. “Do not worry—no one has touched her wound. May we speak privately?”

The doctor looked baffled, and his knuckles were white as he clutched the clipboard, but he didn’t argue as Professor Rook led him away. “Rico, I think we had better go and return as quickly as possible,” Professor Lal said. “The sooner we can get Professor Agnew here, the easier this will be.”

Before anyone else came in to see Dawn, she heard running feet in the hallway—two sets of feet and one that sounded like strange scratching on the floor. She was just considering getting up and looking out when they stopped outside her door and Roe burst in. She grinned widely. “Oh good, they gave us the right room. I thought they were giving us the runaround since they didn’t want to tell us where you were at first.”

Corrie felt all the blood rush to her face. For a moment she could do nothing but stare, astonished. Then she began to recognize others in the ballroom. Professor Strega. Professor Rook. Professor Shannon from the philosophy department. And, strangely enough, her history teacher, Professor Drehmer, dancing an elegant waltz with a black-haired woman nearly a foot taller than him.

“Okay, good work, everyone,” said Professor Rook, clapping his hands to end the class. Nic let her fire go out and her hands drop with a sigh of relief. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath, but it made sense: she didn’t want to breathe on the tiny flame and possibly blow it out. Professor Rook had told them that breathing on it gently might actually help, by giving the fire more oxygen, but she didn’t want to take the risk. Besides, she’d seen candles and campfires before. Candles went out if you blew on them, but campfires got brighter.