The Rithmatist

papers on his desk. Joel tried another tactic.
    “Professor?”
    “Hum?”
    “What would you like me to do now? I’ve finished the first project. I assume you have something else to fill my time?” Something having to do with what you’re working on?
    “Ah, well, yes,” Fitch said. “You did so well at that research; worked far more quickly than I expected. You must enjoy that sort of thing.”
    “I wouldn’t say that…” Joel said.
    Fitch continued. “It would be very useful if you tracked down the locations of all the Rithmatists living here on the island who have retired from their service in Nebrask. Why don’t you get started on that?”
    “Track down…” Joel said. “Professor, how would I even start something like that?”
    “Hum? Well, you could look through the last year’s census, then compare the names on it to the names on the lists of graduates from the various academies.”
    “You’re kidding me,” Joel said. He knew just enough to realize that the project Fitch was talking about could take months to get through.
    “Yes, yes,” Fitch said. He was obviously barely paying attention. “Very important…”
    “Professor?” Joel asked. “Is something wrong? Did something happen?”
    Fitch looked up, focusing, as if seeing Joel there for the first time. “Something happen…?” Fitch asked. “Didn’t you hear, lad?”
    “Hear what?”
    “Another student vanished last night,” Fitch said. “The police released information about it this afternoon.”
    “I’ve been in the library all afternoon,” Joel said, stepping up to the desk. “Was it another Rithmatist?”
    “Yes,” Fitch said. “Herman Libel. A pupil from my old class.”
    “I’m sorry,” Joel said, noting the distressed look in Fitch’s eyes. “Do they still think a Rithmatist is behind the disappearances?”
    Fitch looked up. “How do you know that?”
    “I … Well, you have me searching out the locations of Rithmatists, and the principal told me you were working on an important project for the federal inspectors. It seemed obvious.”
    “Oh,” Fitch said. He glanced down at the papers. “So, you know this is my fault, then.”
    “ Your fault?”
    “Yes,” Fitch said. “I was the one in charge of deciphering this puzzle. But so far I have nothing! I feel useless. If I’d been able to figure this out earlier, then perhaps poor Herman wouldn’t have … well, who knows what happened to him?”
    “You can’t blame yourself, Professor,” Joel said. “It’s not your fault.”
    “It is,” Fitch said. “I’m responsible. If I hadn’t proven unable to do this task…” Fitch sighed. “Perhaps York should have given this problem to Professor Nalizar.”
    “Professor!” Joel said. “Nalizar might have beaten you in a duel, but he’s not even twenty-five years old. You’ve spent a lifetime studying Rithmatics. You’re a far better scholar than he is.”
    “I don’t know…” Fitch said. On the desk, Joel could see several sheets with detailed notes and drawings, all in ink.
    “What’s this?” Joel asked, pointing at a sketch. It appeared to be a simplified Matson Defense. Or, rather, what was left of one. The detailed sketch showed numerous chunks missing—as if pieces of the defense been clawed free by chalklings. Even where the lines weren’t breached, they were scored and uneven.
    Fitch covered the sheet with his arms. “It’s nothing.”
    “Maybe I can help.”
    “Lad, you just told me that Professor Nalizar seemed too inexperienced at age twenty-four. You’re sixteen!”
    Joel froze. Then he nodded, wincing. “Yes, of course. I’m not even a Rithmatist. I understand.”
    “Don’t be like that, lad,” Fitch said. “I don’t mean to disparage you, but … well, Principal York told me to be very quiet about this. We don’t want to create a panic. To be honest, we don’t even know if foul play is involved—perhaps it’s just coincidence, and those two young people both decided to run away.”
    “You don’t believe that,” Joel said, reading Professor Fitch’s expression.
    “No,” he admitted. “There was blood found at both scenes. Not a lot of it, mind you, but some. No bodies though. The children were hurt, then taken somewhere.”
    Joel felt a chill. He knelt down beside the desk. “Look, Professor, the principal gave me to you as a research assistant, right? Wouldn’t that imply that he expected me to be involved in this project? I know how to