The Rithmatist

ground and dashed back the way he had come.
    Have to think quickly, he told himself. Can’t go to the dormitory. They’ll just come under the doors. I have to find the policemen. They have acid.
    Where were Harding’s patrols? Joel ran with all his might toward the Rithmatic side of the campus.
    His breath began to come in gasps. He couldn’t outrun chalklings for long. Ahead, he saw lights. The campus office building. Joel let out a ragged yell.
    “Help!”
    Blessedly, the sound came in full force. He’d gotten away from the trap. However, though sound was no longer dampened, his voice felt weak. He had been running at full speed for too long.
    The door to the office flung open and Exton looked out, wearing his typical vest and bow tie. “Joel?” he called. “What’s wrong?”
    Joel shook his head, sweating. He dared a glance behind, and saw the chalklings scrambling over the grass just behind him. Inches away.
    “Blessed heavens!” Exton shouted.
    Joel turned back, but in his haste, he tripped and fell to the ground.
    Joel cried out, hitting hard, the breath knocked from him. Dazed, he cringed, waiting for the pain, the coldness, the attacks he had read about.
    Nothing happened.
    “Help, police, someone!” Exton was screaming.
    Joel lifted his head. Why wasn’t he dead? The grass was lit only by a lantern shining through the window of the office building. The chalklings quivered nearby, surrounding him, their figures shaking. Small hands, eyes, faces, legs, claws formed periodically around whirling, tempestuous chalk bodies.
    They did not advance.
    Joel raised himself up on his arms. Then he saw it: the gold dollar Melody had given him. It had fallen from his pocket and lay sparkling on the grass.
    The gears inside it ticked quietly, and the chalklings shied away from it. Several of them tested forward, but they were reticent.
    There was a sudden splash, and one of the chalklings washed away in a wave of liquid.
    “Quickly, Joel,” Exton said, holding out his hand from a short distance away, an empty bucket in his other hand. Joel scrambled to his feet, snatching the gold coin and dashing through the hole Exton had made in the ring of chalklings.
    Exton rushed back into the office building.
    “Exton!” Joel said, following him through the doorway and into the office. “We have to run. We can’t stop them here!”
    Exton slammed the door shut, ignoring Joel. Then he knelt to the floor and pulled out a piece of chalk. He drew a line in front of the doorway, then up the sides of the wall and around the doorway. He stepped back.
    The chalklings stopped outside. Joel could just barely see them begin attacking the line. Exton proceeded to draw another one around Joel and himself, boxing them in.
    “Exton,” Joel said. “You’re a Rithmatist!”
    “A failed one,” Exton admitted, hands shaking. “Haven’t carried chalk in years. But, well, with all the problems here at the school…”
    Across the room, chalklings moved across the windowpanes, looking for other ways in. A single lantern flickered, giving the office a shadowy illumination.
    “What’s going on?” Exton asked. “Why were they chasing you?”
    “I don’t know,” Joel said, testing the Line of Forbiddance around them. It wasn’t drawn particularly well, and wouldn’t hold for long against the chalklings.
    “Do you have any more acid?” Joel asked.
    Exton nodded toward a second bucket nearby, within their defensive square. Joel grabbed it.
    “It’s the last one,” Exton said, wringing his hands. “Harding left the two here for us.”
    Joel glanced at the chalklings, visible under the door, attacking at Exton’s line. He took out the coin.
    It had stopped them. Why?
    “Exton,” he said, trying to keep the terror from shaking his voice. “We’re going to have to make a run for the gates. The policemen will have more acid there.”
    “Run?” Exton said. “I … I can’t run! I’m in no shape to keep ahead of chalklings!”
    He was right. Portly as he was, Exton wouldn’t be able to keep up for long. Joel felt his hands shaking, so he clenched his fists. He knelt down, watching the chalklings beyond the Line of Forbiddance. They were chewing through it at an alarming rate.
    Joel took the coin and snapped it to the ground behind the line. The chalklings shied away.
    Then, tentatively, they came back and began to work on the Line of Forbiddance again.
    Blast, Joel thought. So it won’t stop them, not for good.