James Potter And The Morrigan Web (24 page)

“Morton!” Lucia, the pigtailed girl, hissed from her own abacus. “Shut it, you big berk!”

Comstock shrugged. “Who cares if they know? They’ll find out soon enough, anyway.”

James shifted his stunned gaze to Ralph. “Corsica?” he whispered. “Could it be?”

Ralph merely shook his head and frowned. “Can’t be
Tabitha
Corsica.”

Lucia peeked through her abacus again. “You
know
her?”

James glanced at her. “I don’t know. If it’s who we’re thinking of… that would be…”

“Hilarious,” Graham nodded with a grin.

“We’ll find out tomorrow, maybe,” Ralph said. “We’ve got our first class there at Yorke. If she’s their mediator, then she’ll probably be there.”

James nodded uncertain agreement. Was it possible that Tabitha Corsica had been sent to the Muggle school to manage the exchange program? Wouldn’t his dad have known about that? And if it was true, what did it mean?

Later that evening, as dinner concluded in the great hall and the enchanted ceiling began to twinkle with early stars, James and Ralph watched the enormous Clock over the head table. When it gonged the quarter hour before seven, they made their way to the tall cabinet with the double eagle carvings.

Rose met them there dressed in her uniform, a smart pink cardigan slung over her shoulders.

“You’re not really going like that, are you?” she asked sharply, looking them up and down.

“What do you mean?” James blinked, glancing down at his jeans and tee shirt. “It’s an extra-curricular club. No uniforms required. Besides, what do you know about how Americans dress?”

“Enough to know I don’t want to look like them,” Rose sniffed.

Ralph cocked his head. “What, you’re not coming, too, are you?”

“I certainly am,” she replied primly. “You two aren’t going to have all the fun this year. We’re dying to take a look at Alma Aleron, and since this is the end of our school day, it’s the perfect time for it. Besides, Zane promised he’d sneak us all around the campus.”

Ralph nodded speculatively. “Sounds like Zane.”

“Hold up,” James said, “Who’s ‘we’?”

“Scorpius and me,” Rose answered lightly, glancing back over the hall. “Here he comes now. But you two can probably come along if you wish. We won’t mind.”

James nodded sarcastically. “Oh, thanks loads.”

Scorpius joined them in front of the Alma Aleron cabinet, dressed in a natty pair of khakis and a white button-down shirt. “I see the gang is all here,” he announced wryly, looking askance at James and Ralph and obviously refraining from commenting about their clothing. “Shall we, then?”

James rolled his eyes. “Let’s go already.”

The four crammed together into the cabinet, which just contained them. Scorpius pulled the door shut.

The cabinet interior fell dark, and then flashed bright, electric blue. As one, all four students jumped. When all eight feet plunked back to the floor, the cabinet doors popped open again, now revealing a bright afternoon sky studded with clouds. Chestnut trees shushed in the near distance, overshadowing colourful gardens, fountains and statuary. Paths looped across a pristine lawn, connecting the blocky brick buildings that lined either side.

“Smell that!” Rose declared, stepping out into the sunlight. “Honeysuckle!”

Ralph looked up at the sun, then down at his watch. “It’s just after lunchtime here,” he announced. “All I smell is goulash from the cafeteria in admin hall.”

“Oh, quit showing off, Deedle,” Scorpius groused, following the troop out onto the footpath. “Everyone knows you spent last year here.”

James glanced back as the cabinet doors clunked shut. Here, the cabinet was decorated with a colourfully painted woodcut of the Hogwarts crest, nearly as big as the doors themselves. The cabinet itself rested in the shadow of a large awning, situated in the centre of Alma Aleron’s long, grassy mall. Three other cabinets sat beneath the awning, each facing a different direction.

“Greetings mates!” Zane called, approaching from the direction of the gigantic brick building at the head of the mall. “Right on time. Everyone ready to have fun and do some wild and crazy stuff?”

“Just lead on, Walker,” Scorpius instructed. “Save the American uber-enthusiasm for the tourists.”

“Oh, that’s funny, I thought that’s what
you
were.” Zane said brightly, cocking his head and tapping his chin with one finger.

“Patches!” James cried suddenly, grinning. “Look, Ralph!”

A short-haired calico cat came trotting lightly along the path, stopping in a dapple of bright sunlight. It sat down on its haunches and preened itself, waiting to be petted.

“Aww!” Rose proclaimed shrilly, striding forward and dropping to one knee next to the cat. “This is Patches? I remember you talking about him last year! What a pretty, smart little kitty you are…”

James glanced back at Scorpius, waiting for a sarcastic comment. Scorpius, who seemed to be in a particularly foul mood for some reason, merely looked away, distaste etched all over his face.

“Welcome to the Aleron,” Zane announced, unperturbed. “This here is the mall. Back that way is Zombie house, universally agreed to be the best house on campus. And over there is Administration Hall, our destination. That concludes the tour for now. Let’s roll or we’re gonna be all kinds of late.”

The group began to make their way along the sun-dappled path, followed casually by Patches the cat, who seemed to take every opportunity to rub up against Rose’s leg as she walked.

“See?” she said adoringly, “He likes me! What a smart kitty.”

As they approached the bulky shape of Admin Hall, James took a moment to look around at the campus and the knots of students heading to class or lounging in the sun. It was all very familiar to him, and rather comforting to come back to. On his right was the theatre where Professor Longbottom had given his lecture on Herbology. Beyond this was Faculty Row, where Petra and Izzy had lived briefly, before the debacle that had led to Petra’s arrest. And just peeking over the tops of the distant trees was Pepperpock Down, the Clutchcudgel stadium, its banners waving cheerfully against the deep blue of the sky.

Zane led the gathering up the Admin Hall steps two at a time. As they passed into the shadow of the high clock tower, the clock itself began to gong the hour.

“Ask not for whom the bell tolls,” Zane called back. “It tolls for us. Chancellor Franklyn won’t wait around.”

“Wait around?” Ralph huffed, straggling behind. “Is he going somewhere?”

“Just you wait, Ralphinator,” Zane answered with a backwards glance. “X-Comm’s gotten totally quantum since Professor Jackson got involved. Who’d have thought that crusty old Stonewall would have any cool ideas about how to use technomancy for actual fun?”

Scorpius frowned. “Fun?”

“Yeah,” James admitted, “That doesn’t sound like Stonewall at all.”

Zane passed through the propped open double doors of Admin Hall and angled toward a wide staircase. “Well, I wouldn’t say the word ‘fun’ in front of
him
,” he admitted, lowering his voice in the echoing main hall. “But a lark’s a lark, and what he and Franklyn have come up with has definite possibilities. We’re hoping to try it out for the first time today.”

Before James could ask if Professor Jackson was going to be there, Zane reached the top of the staircase and turned left into a narrow doorway. Rose followed and James heard her proclamation of amazement as she stepping into the comparatively dark room.

It was stuffy on the second floor, but much more so in the confines of the cramped room, which was cluttered with all manner of gizmos, devices and machinery. Most of it, James noticed as he looked around, seemed to be broken or disassembled, stacked and labelled on shelves and against the far wall, blocking the windows and their pulled, drab shades. A huge work table stood in the furthest reaches of the room, its surface crowded with tools, monstrous mouldy books, and what looked like a half-built clockwork giant.

“Just imagine the nightmare of a Gauntlet that Professor Debellows would build out of all
this
,” Ralph muttered, squinting in the dusty dimness.

Movement behind the work table caught James’ eye. He glanced up to see a strange, shambling figure emerge. Its eyes glowed green on the ends of telescopic brass stalks and its hands were complicated metal claws, snickering and ratcheting alarmingly. James stumbled back from it, bumping into Ralph, who bumped into Scorpius, nearly knocking the blond boy to the floor.

“Ah!” the shambling figure said, straightening. “Mr. Walker and friends. Is it one o’clock already? I seem to have lost all track of time.” Clumsily, the figure seemed to strip off its huge claws, stacking them haphazardly on the table and revealing human hands beneath. With a brisk sigh, it pushed back a pair of complicated goggles, resting them atop a balding head crowned with longish grey hair.

“Chancellor Franklyn!” Rose exclaimed excitedly, nearly clapping her hands with pleasure.

“At your service,” the chancellor answered with a smile. “Welcome to my laboratory, all of you, and thank you very much for your willingness to aid in the advancement of science and invention for the betterment of mankind, etcetera, etcetera… er…” he trailed off, patting his many pockets. “Has anyone seen my spectacles, perchance?”

Zane shook his head and glanced back at the others. “This is just
one
of his laboratories,” he stage-whispered, cupping one hand to the side of his mouth. “The one under the Igors’ mansion is a cavern. An actual cavern! With stalactites and bats and everything!”

“Much less glamorous than it sounds, I fear,” Franklyn admitted, now patting along the work table in search of his glasses. “Please, Mr. Walker, if you would introduce everyone. I fear I am rather at a loss for the moment.”

Zane nodded. “Sure thing, Chancellor. You’ve already met James Potter and Ralph Deedle, of course. This other happy camper is Scorpius Malfoy. And finally, the rose between all the thorns, Rose Weasley, cat lover and girl genius.”

“Yes,” Franklyn nodded, distracted. “Thank you. I do recall Mr. Potter and Mr. Deedle, of course.”

Of course,
James thought,
and he probably isn’t all that thrilled to see us again, after everything that happened last year, including the opening of the Nexus Curtain and the Night of the Unveiling
.

A narrow door creaked suddenly open at the back of the room, admitting a tall, imposing figure. Professor Jackson saw the troop gathered before the work table and lifted his chin, his dark eyebrows lowering slightly.

“I see our test subjects have arrived,” he said coolly. “Welcome back Mr. Potter, Mr. Deedle. You have brought friends this time.”

“Greetings, General!” Zane announced, snapping off a stiff salute. “Proud to be of service. Is everything all set for go?”

Jackson eyed Zane for a long moment, and then turned to the Chancellor.

“I believe we are ready, Benjamin. Send them in whenever they are prepared. Mr. Hernandez and I will remain behind in the event of any… miscalculation.”

Franklyn seemed to abandon the search for his glasses. He nodded. “Very well, then. Thank you, Professor. We will join you in just a moment.”

Jackson accepted this stoically, looked over the assembly once more with apparent distaste, and then stepped back through the door, closing it with a clunk.

“Now then,” Franklyn said, smiling a bit myopically at the students. “As I expect you know, this is an unaccredited club. There are no grades given. No awards or prizes. Simply put, our goal is knowledge. Success is measured in results, be they negative or positive. There is little danger involved, so long as you do precisely what I say. Are there any questions?”

Rose glanced around at James and Ralph, grinning eagerly and bouncing on her toes.

Scorpius raised his hand a bit impatiently. “We are, I understand, primarily concerned with experimental forms of magical communication. Is that correct?”

Franklyn nodded quickly. “Yes, yes, of course. We have, however, with the assistance of Professor Jackson, enhanced and broadened our scope rather a bit, Mister… er, Malfoy. Yes.” he said, removing the goggles heavily from his head, plunking them to the desk, and brushing off his waistcoat. “Rather than relying solely on the sending of messages via facsimile, we have begun to consider the idea of more direct and reliable methods, foregoing the inherent complication of third-party means of transference. In short, rather than merely broadcasting our message to distant locations…”

“We’re just going there ourselves,” Zane interrupted with a grin.

“Temporarily, of course,” Franklyn clarified, raising a finger. “This is by no means a replacement for apparition or Floo network. On the contrary, we are experimenting with pre-programmed trans-dimensional portals, capable of being carried by the user and utilized for very specific physical communication between defined locations.”

“They’re like personal Portkeys!” Zane piped up.

“Yes,” Franklyn admitted hesitantly. “Er, in a manner of speaking. The beauty of these devices is their simplicity. They can be used by anyone, easily, and with no training. Even children, with no Disapparation skills or license, may be able to easily communicate physically to any predefined location. Assuming, of course, that Professor Jackson’s technomancic calculations prove accurate and repeatable. Not to doubt his abilities, of course.”

“Of course,” Zane agreed a bit too quickly, glancing around at the others.

“Shall we, then?” Franklyn said, gesturing (rather vaguely) toward the door in the back wall. “Of course, anyone unwilling to participate in the experiment may feel free to opt out with no shame.” He squinted over the students. “Anyone?”

“Into the breach,” Zane announced, “Come on, Rose. In for a Drummel, in for a Jack!”

He led the group around the work table toward the battered rear door, which Franklyn opened with another juddering creak. Filing through one at a time, James was last to enter, following Ralph into a much smaller and darker room, nearly empty except for a single tiny table in the centre of the floor, lit by one candle. A collection of glimmering silvery rings were arranged around the candle in pairs. The group approached them curiously.