Quint smiled. “I couldn’t let you clear the table on your own. My mother seems to have taught me well.”
“She did. Run along. I’ll finish here and leave the evening to all four of you.”
Quint did as she ordered and re-read the report. He found some errors that persisted through his first rewrite and rephrased a few rough patches. Although he usually went to bed later, with a full stomach and a full day behind him, Quint retired, feeling good about what he had accomplished, but he never made it to the market and didn’t even start writing home.
Life was bearable for a while. Quint was accepted as a junior strategic team member, giving his opinions, which weren’t always shouted down. His roommates accepted him except for the occasional barb. Just as he felt accepted, he was sent to a magic class taught by wizard corps headquarters instructors.
His first session brought Quint back to reality. The instructor hated him and told him so, holding him back when the first class ended.
“I’ll remember you, hubite. Thought you were too good for the rest of the class, eh? I will stop that kind of thinking right now. You are little better than the dirt you walk on. Don’t forget that. The strategic people are the best of the best, except for you.”
“Why aren’t you in the division, sir,” Quint said, not enjoying the onslaught of insults.
The instructor turned red. “I am needed elsewhere in the corps.”
They both knew the instructor was lying, but Quint knew he had already gone too far and stayed silent after his retort.
“I’ll do my best to be a good student, sir,” Quint said.
“You better! Dismissed.”
Quint had no idea what else the instructor intended to say but left before the man could call him back. When he returned to his desk, he looked at the handout the instructor had handed out at the end of the class.
As it turned out, Quint was the only Level 3 wizard in the class, and none of the Level 2s were even close to Quint’s level. After three sessions, it was clear that the instructor was a Level 2, as well. The class was a waste of time.
Quint found magic books in the library that he worked on during the class. The instructor found out.
“You are to follow along with the rest of the class,” the instructor said.
“Why should I study spells that I already know?” Quint asked, trying not to be argumentative.
“I’m the instructor. That is all you need to know.”
Quint frowned. “What happens if I continue to read books that will improve my magic?” Quint asked.
“I will report you to the commander of the strategic division,” the instructor said.
“Then do it,” Quint said, hoping that his friendly relationship with Colonel Sarrefo might result in something positive.
When Quint left the classroom, he felt anger and disappointment. The instructor had made no attempt to accommodate Quint, but Quint hadn’t been as submissive as usual, even though he was telling himself not to be argumentative.
Quint kept his temper in control during the next class, but at the beginning of the third session, the instructor sneered at Quint while he called Quint to the front.
“This is from the commander. I hope it results in your dismissal from the corps. Leave my class immediately.”
Quint saluted and left the room after retrieving his books. The envelope was sealed, but Quint couldn’t wait a second longer to read what his fate entailed.
The commander started with a condemnation of Quint’s behavior in the classroom. Nothing Colonel Sarrefo said wasn’t true, and Quint accepted the criticism, but there was more to read, like the punishment that Quint expected.
I am withdrawing you from the magic class. You probably should have never been put into a class teaching at a Level 2 curriculum. You are ordered not to return.
My old friend, Master Pozella, who taught you before, has been ill and needs a different assignment. I am allowing him to work in the capital of our division. He will be tutoring you in advanced magic, and you will be training him for work in the strategic division, although he may not need the training. I’ll leave that up to you two.
He will arrive next week and meet you at your desk. Until then, make some use of the library privileges in lieu of attending your required magic course.
I expect you will resume your proper deportment with the new arrangement.
Quint was satisfied with the new arrangement and headed directly to the library to choose some appropriate magic texts.
Master Pozella showed up at Quint’s desk on the third day of the following week. There was a communal chair, and with no one else in the office area, Pozella dragged it over and sat beside his new pupil.
“We meet again,” Pozella said. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”
“I understand you are ill,” Quint said.
“Sarrefo said I needed to be ill to return to the capital, and here I am. Cough, cough.” Pozella smiled and said sotto voce, “As it turns out, I’m chronically ill, but I’d never tell the corps that, or they would retire me.”
“So, this inconvenience of yours is actually a convenience.”
Pozella nodded and grinned. “We will be a little less, uh, unfettered in our instruction, and I can live with my wife and daughter who live within walking distance. My walking distance.”
“When do we get started?” Quint asked.
“What is your schedule like? I’m now working part-time for the strategic operations division, and at this point, your time is my time.”
