The Rithmatist

off the beleaguered Fitch.
    Joel turned and dashed down the hallway. Melody had drawn quickly, and while her lines weren’t perfectly straight, they would do. Joel entered the long corridor of chalk she’d made, with Lines of Forbiddance to either side of him, then wove through the short maze of lines.
    As he’d expected, the chalklings piled in after him. They could have gotten through to Melody if they’d known that the section of the lines that Joel had drawn wasn’t Rithmatic—but, just like before, chalklings seemed as fooled by a fake line as a human might be, at least at first.
    Joel burst through the hole in the end of the small maze. “Close it!”
    Melody did so, blocking the chalklings. The things immediately turned around to escape back out the front of the maze.
    “Come on!” Joel said, running, Melody at his side. They raced the chalklings, who had to weave through turns to get to the end. Joel and Melody passed through the gap where he had drawn a non-Rithmatic line, then Melody closed off the entrance to the maze.
    She stood, puffing, the chalklings inside shaking angrily. They began to attack the walls.
    Joel turned around. “Melody!” he said. Another group of chalklings had broken off from Professor Fitch and were heading toward him and Melody.
    She yelped, drawing a line across the corridor, then down the sides of the wall to protect her and Joel.
    That trapped them again. Harding left the second batch of chalklings there, chewing on the line blocking Joel and Melody from the combat.
    “That’s all we can do, Professor!” Joel called, just quiet enough that the Lines of Silencing had no effect. Then, more softly, he added, “Come on.…”
    Fitch drew with a look of intense concentration on his face. Every time he seemed to waver, he glanced up at Melody and Joel surrounded by chalklings. His face grew more determined, and he continued his work.
    Harding—the Scribbler—growled, then began launching his enhanced Lines of Vigor at Fitch. The professor drew expert Lines of Forbiddance to not just block, but deflect the Lines of Vigor.
    Joel watched, breathing quickly, following Fitch’s moves as Melody shored up their defense, drawing reinforcing lines where the chalklings looked like they might be close to getting through.
    “Come on…” Joel repeated. “You can do it.”
    Fitch worked furiously, drawing with both hands. His defense was expert—he coaxed the chalklings toward weak points, then blocked them off inside Lines of Forbiddance.
    Then, with a smile, Fitch reached out and drew a jagged Line of Vigor like Harding had been doing.
    It shot across the room and hit the surprised inspector, throwing him backward. Harding hit the ground with a grunt. He groaned, then stood back up, drawing a Circle of Warding around himself, followed by a Line of Forbiddance in front of it.
    When did Harding become a Rithmatist? Joel thought, realizing the oddity for the first time. That Line of Warding is almost inhumanly perfect. And he drew it at a distance, with chalk on the end of his rifle!
    Fitch wasn’t daunted. He expertly bounced two Lines of Vigor around Harding’s front defending wall. Harding was forced to draw Lines of Forbiddance at his sides.
    Fitch then bounced a Line of Vigor off the wall Melody had drawn, hitting the back of Harding’s defense.
    “Wow,” Joel said.
    Harding bellowed, then drew a line behind himself as well.
    “Ha!” Fitch yelled just as the chalklings burst through his circle.
    “Professor!” Joel yelled.
    Fitch, however, stood up and leaped out of the circle as the chalklings piled into it. They hesitated, and Fitch quickly drew a Line of Forbiddance to block off the circle, trapping them inside his own defense. Then he rushed across the room and drew a Line of Forbiddance across the hallway to trap the chalklings there against Melody’s line.
    Finally, he turned toward Harding. The man, whatever he was, stood with eyes shadowed. He no longer smiled, but simply waited. The creature knew that soon, the chalklings would break free and attack again.
    “Professor,” Joel called softly, something occurring to him. It was a long shot, but …
    Fitch turned toward him.
    “A clock,” Joel said. “Find a clock.”
    Fitch frowned, but did as requested. He burst into one of the students’ rooms, then came back out with a clock and held it toward Joel. “What do I do with this?”
    “Break off the face,” Joel said. “Show the creature the gears