The Rithmatist

yourself half to death, he thought, and spend the rest of the time worrying yourself sick. I have to find a way to help you. Somehow.
    “I understand,” he said. “I’ll just focus on my studies.”
    She turned back to her scrubbing, and Joel left, crossing the green to their dorm. He climbed into bed without changing, suddenly exhausted.
    Hours later, sunlight shining on his face, he blinked awake and realized that—for once—he’d fallen asleep with ease. He yawned, climbed out of the bed, and made it for when his mother got done with work in an hour or so. He changed into some clothing from the small trunk at the end of the bed.
    The room was basically empty, otherwise. A dresser, the trunk, the bed. The room was so small that he could almost touch the walls opposite one another at the same time. Yawning, intending to make his way to the restroom at the end of the hall, he opened the door.
    He stopped in place as he saw people rushing about in the hallway outside, talking excitedly. He caught the arm of one woman as she hurried past.
    “Mrs. Emuishere?” he said. “What’s going on?”
    The dark-skinned Egyptian woman eyed him. “Joel, lad! Haven’t you heard ?”
    “Heard what? I just woke up.”
    “A third disappearance,” she said. “Another Rithmatist. Charles Calloway.”
    “Calloway?” Joel said. He recognized that name. “You mean…?”
    She nodded. “The son of the knight-senator of East Carolina, Joel. The boy was kidnapped right out of his family’s private estate late last night. They should have listened to the principal, I say. Poor kid would have been far safer here.”
    “The son of a knight-senator!” This was bad.
    “There’s more,” she said, leaning in. “There were deaths, Joel. The boy’s servants—ordinary men, not Dusters—were found at the scene, their skin ripped off and their eyes chewed out. Like…”
    “Like they were attacked by wild chalklings,” Joel whispered.
    She nodded curtly, then bustled off, obviously intent on sharing the news with others.
    The son of a knight-senator kidnapped or killed, Joel thought numbly. Civilians murdered.
    Everything had just changed drastically.

PART
    THREE



CHAPTER

    Joel ran across the campus to Professor Fitch’s office. He knocked on the door and got no answer. So he tested the doorknob, and found it unlocked.
    He pushed it open.
    “Just a moment!” Fitch called. The professor stood next to his desk, quickly gathering up a bunch of scrolls, writing utensils, and books. He looked even more disheveled than usual, hair sticking up, tie askew.
    “Professor?” Joel asked.
    “Ah, Joel,” Fitch said, glancing up. “Excellent! Please, come help me with these.”
    Joel hastened to help carry an armful of scrolls. “What’s going on?”
    “We’ve failed again,” Fitch said. “There’s been another disappearance.”
    “I know,” Joel said, following Professor Fitch toward the door. “But what are we doing about it?”
    “Don’t you remember?” Fitch said, closing the door behind Joel, then hurriedly leading the way down the steps. “You suggested that we needed to see the crime scene before it was contaminated by police officers. As good as they are, they have no realistic understanding of Rithmatics. I explained this to Inspector Harding.”
    “Will they actually wait until we get there to look things over?”
    “They can’t start until Harding arrives,” Fitch said. “And he’s here at Armedius. The disappearance wasn’t discovered until just a short time ago. And so, if we—”
    “Fitch!” a voice called from ahead. Joel looked up to see Inspector Harding standing with a group of police officers. “Double-time, soldier!”
    “Yes, yes,” Fitch said, quickening his pace.
    Harding gestured, and his police officers scrambled away. “I’ve told the engineer to hold the springrail,” Harding said as Fitch and Joel joined him. “My men are securing the campus—no more Rithmatic students are going to leave this place without police protection until we know what is happening.”
    “Very wise,” Fitch said as Harding and he strode toward the station. Joel hurried along behind, carrying the scrolls. Students had gathered on the green nearby to watch the police, and Joel caught sight of some familiar red curls among them.
    “Hey!” Melody said, pushing through the students and rushing up to Joel. “What’s going on?”
    Joel winced as Professor Fitch turned. “Ah, Melody, dear. I