Shadowcroft Academy Year 2 - Chapter Fifty-One

Logan, Marko, and Treacle were back in Shadowcroft’s office, only this time, they were there with the Threshing Turtle, Chadrigoth, and Professor Zantho, who had dark circles under her eyes. She’d been up for days, working on grades, proctoring finals, and trying to close out the end of the year. Another sleepless night was killing her. Dawn filled the stained-glass windows of Shadowcroft’s office. They’d put Inga’s cocoon in her room, and Tet was there, with the mothmancer, just in case she woke up.

Chadrigoth’s body was newly generated, so he was only about three feet tall, kinda of cute in a blue demon kind of way. He did use lots of flame to try and make up for his lack of stature.

Shadowcroft must’ve already given his crystal ballerina and the little foul-tempered rose woman their breakfast because both were in better moods this time around. The pair of them were busily re-shelving books, sorting through papers, and stacking dirty dishes. The bulk of finals were over, no other students had been killed, and the inter-school competition had wrapped up. The Shadowcroft Academy had come in second place, like always, with Nightfall University winning the grand prizes.

Shadowcroft seemed relieved just to have the whole affair over with. Now, however. he had a new headache to consider.

The Threshing Turtled had roused Shadowcroft from his bed, and so he was in his sleeping cap and gown. Chadrigoth did most of the talking, since it was clear that Shadowcroft had heard enough from the Terrible Twelfth about the cardinal dungeons and William of the Scales.

While Chadrigoth explained what had happened—giving them a blow-by-blow of the battle. Scowling, Professor Zantho paced back and forth across Shadowcroft’s desk, clear of papers, with her hands clasped behind her back.

The miniature Chadrigoth wrinkled his cute little blue face. “I just don’t get how that cherry turnover came out of nowhere to stop the mannequin. It melted him into goo. It wasn’t me, and it wasn’t Logan. Melvin is dead, so what the heck?”

Logan shook his head. “I guess it’s just one more mystery.” However, he did have some theories. Inga had said that Melvin put his heart and soul into that cookbook of his. What if that hadn’t just been a figure of speech. Was it possible the kitchen ghast has literally put his heart and soul into his cookbook? Could Melvin have created some kind of spell to keep a bit of Apothos around? It seemed likely, and maybe with all the energy in the Bloodrock, Melvin found a way to toss one last pastry to save the day. Logan couldn’t be sure, but it was worth looking into.

Professor Zantho turned and nodded at the Threshing Turtle. “And you thought you saw William of the Scales?”

The Threshing Turtle squinted. “I saw a knight standing in shadow armor… I can’t say for certain, but…” He dropped his gaze. “Yes, I believe it was him. But then the satyr made the unwise decision to destroy the proto-gem. You might’ve felt the burst of Apothos. I’ve only ever felt something like it once before—right before we created Arborea. The students absorbed a portion of that power, but I can tell you for certain that the rest didn’t simply dissipate back into Arborea. I believe it has spread across the universe once more. Perhaps the great evil trapped in the cardinal dungeons is gone for good.” He drummed his scaled fingers on his staff. “Or, perhaps not.”

Professor Zantho folded her arms and growled, “First things first. Of course I’m concerned about an ancient dungeoneer coming back to life, but we have other things to consider. Like what in the Whispering Hells of Aldaleera do I do about the five dungeon cores in my class and their O.D.D. final exam? I suppose I could give the fungaloid, the mothmancer, and the abyss lord passing grades. From what shrimpy here said”—she hooked a thumb toward Chadrigoth—“all three would pass with flying colors. But what about the goat and the minotaur? And then there’s two other dungeons to consider, the snow golem and the gecko behemoth. What do I do about Larry and Toygee? They were supposed to duel with the goat boy and the bull man.”

She racked fingers through her hair, frazzled.

Shadowcroft raised a stick finger.

Professor Zantho waved him away. “I know, headmaster, I know. It’s pretty clear that these students are the best we have. Not Larry and Toygee—I wouldn’t trust those two to guard a broom closet—I mean the troublesome Terrible Twelfth. And this abyss lord, hoarding Psuche Powder, and suddenly he’s friends with the fungaloid. Ugh, sometimes I wished I’d never left the Arcandor Initiative. There was less drama risking my life everyday dueling rogue dungeons.”

The Threshing Turtle cleared his throat to speak.

Exasperated fairy dust burst from Professor Zantho’s wings. “Professor Ikgix, I appreciate the input, but I know what I’m going to do. I’ll have the snow golem fight the gecko behemoth. They’re in the same cohort, but that shouldn’t matter. They don’t much like each other.”

Chadrigoth pumped his fist. “Yes! This really is the right decision, Professor. The Terrible Twelfth are amazing.”

“Shut it, maggot,” Professor Zantho thundered. “I’m just glad I won’t have to hear the goat play that damned lute. It makes me want to have my ear drums surgically removed. As for the minotaur, I have a slight allergy to Fulgur Apothos, nothing serious, but I try to avoid it. Now, I’m leaving to catch a little shuteye while I can. You’ll get your grades, sir, and I’ll have my recommendation for points on the leaderboard.”

She launched off the desk, opened the door with a hand made of pixie glitter, and went flying out.

Shadowcroft sighed, a few of his skull flower drooped. “Well, I’m very glad we don’t have another death on our hands. Believe it when I say that the only reason why Professor Zantho believed half your story was because it came from Chadrigoth.” He tapped at his chin. “Truly, the change in him is striking.”

“Change for the better!” The abyss lord stood with his hands on his hips. “I was wondering if I could get a job this summer, on the campus. I’d do pretty much anything. I just don’t want to go home.”

Shadowcroft waggled his beard enthusiastically. “Yes, I think that won’t be a problem, Mr. Nobleblade. Professor Ikgix could use you in the Tartarucha Cells, I’m sure. Or Rockheart has always been very enthusiastic about your career.”

Logan glanced to his friends. Marko had fallen asleep, leaning against Treacle. The minotaur had his steampunk goggles in place and was studying his hands. It turns out he was very susceptible to Logan’s Narcotic spores.

Chadrigoth wasn’t done, though. “Hey, Professor Ikgix, I was connected to Logan while he was in the Winterdark Halls. How would you be able to recognize William of the Scales? You’re not that old, right?”

The Threshing Turtle laughed wearily. “Well, I have seen his picture in books. I think that was what it was. You’re right, I might be ancient, but I’m not that ancient.” He tapped his staff on the floor.

Logan cleared this throat. “Oh, look at the time.”

Shadowcroft sent him an appreciative glance. “You’re right, Mr. Murray, it is late. Or early, rather. And I believe you and Miss Akhat still have your Diverse Dungeon Environments project to present.”

Logan winced. They did, later that afternoon.

The Threshing Turtle got to his feet. “Yes, I am very tired. It has been a remarkable night.” Professor Ikgix started for the door.

Chadrigoth raised a little claw. “Wait, Professor, I’ll walk out with you.” The abyss lord turned to Logan. “Thanks, Logan, for everything. I’ll have to really pour on the Apothos because Lady Elesiel would hate it if I were shorter than her. She’d totally break up with me. And I’m pretty sure Jimi Magmarty would beat me up. Their both still pretty neurotic, but they’ll come around. I’ll work on them.”

Chadrigoth made a fist. Logan bumped it. “Good luck, man.”

They abyss lord chuckled a bit. “I don’t need luck. I have the power of friendship. Maybe not a best friend yet, but a friendship all the same.” He walked out the door with the turtle.

That left Logan, Marko, and Treacle alone in the office with Shadowcroft.

The headmaster gave Logan a long look. “I’m glad it’s just us. I have to apologize, Mr. Murray, about being so angry before. I should’ve believed Inga and her theories. It’s a shame. If I would’ve listened to her, we might have avoided this unfortunate situation. Is William of the Scales gone forever? Or will he try and return? We won’t know for certain, but I am writing up a full report for the Council of Dungeons to consider. We’ll all keep an eye out for anything strange. And we’ll work on keeping the Bloodrock sealed. The Bharooshian runes are certainly troubling. You provided ample proof and made a friend along the way, it seems. That might be an even more remarkable feat than defeating even a shadowy version of William of the Scales.”

Logan nodded.

Shadowcroft stood up. “Well, now, let’s finish off the year strong.”

Logan stood and lifted Marko, who grunted and blinked sleepy eyes. The minotaur hooked an arm around him to keep him steady. It would take both of them to get the goat home.

Logan tuned to see the crystal ballerina standing on a bookshelf. The Rosaceae Flysnag tossed the ballerina a book, and she slipped it into the shelf. Things were on their way back to normal.

At the door, Shadowcroft patted Logan’s shoulder. “Once last thing. Thank you for keeping my secret about Professor Ikgix.”

Logan smiled. “Thank you for being with honest with us.”

Treacle and Logan got Marko to his room, and then the minotaur retired to his own quarters for the night.

Logan sat for a bit, in Marko’s room, staring out the satyr’s window at the dark waters of Loch Endless. They were all alive, they’d stopped the end of the world, and now all he had to do was sleep a bit and do the presentation with Tet. It shouldn’t be a big deal. Thanks to Billy he’d leveled up significantly. He was no longer at B-Class Rank 8, he’d jumped all the way up to Rank 4 and tied a new knot in his core. He had not one knot now, but three. He couldn’t wait to see what he would be capable of now.

He did worry about Inga, though. She’d received a vital burst of Apothos while of the cusp of her advancement. He hoped it hadn’t harmed her. That kind of thing could damage a core. He muttered a silent prayer that she’d come out just fine. If she did, they all swore to not tell that they’d dropped her cocoon.

Marko’s room was still messy, with clothes lying her and there. On his desk were his books, a few bottles of Liverkill, and a collection of glasses and dishes. The chair by the fireplace, where Steve always sat, was empty.

Marko shifted in his bed, and the let out a yell. He scrambled to the top of his bed. “Logan, where’s Steve?”

“Gone,” Logan said. “Steve is gone for good, man. You might summon another floor boss, but I doubt he’ll be the servant of an ancient evil dungeoneer. I guess there’s some good and bad to that.”

Marko put a hand over his face. “Ugh. Last year everything was my fault. This year, everything is my fault. I mean, I tried, really tried, to be perfect like Inga. I got ahead on my homework, I studied, I didn’t spend too much time with GK and Nemoy—and by the way, that merman is a bad influence. Anyway.” The satyr sighed. “It’s like I can’t win. When I’m a screw-up, bad things happen. And when I try my hardest, bad things happen. So, why should I even try?”

“Because we beat the bad guy, Marko,” Logan said. “Because Chadrigoth isn’t going to try to kill us anymore. Because I got to B-Class this year, and Inga is going to pull through and be awesome. Because trying is better than not trying. Always.”

Marko grinned at him. “Did Chadrigoth say something about being your best friend?”

Logan felt silly, but he told the truth. “Yeah, he did. But that position is already taken.”

“By who?” Marko asked, brow furrowed. “Is it Larry the snow golem?” he curled a hand into a fist. “I know he’s charismatic, but you can’t trust that guy. I mean, I know things about Larry. And it better not be Nemoy. He’s trouble on fins, man.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Actually, it’s this goat I know, plays the lute, can get surprisingly dark surprisingly fast, and always tries his hardest to do the right thing.”

Marko smiled. “Sounds like a pretty cool dude.”

Logan didn’t disagree.