TheEnemyOfMyEnemyThe Enemy of my Enemy Fifth Strike marked the end of the first day of classes. For many students, this came as a welcome reprieve – including Joao. Perhaps because of some karmic misdeed in a previous incarnation, he’d found himself cursed to endure not one – but two – of Mistress Isolde’s classes: Symbology and Harmonics. Like the ink-black depths of Rebma, the blue–skinned Rebman was cold enough to burn flesh and numb bones. She demanded nothing less than perfection and mercilessly punished those failed to meet her impossible expectations. And yet, she reserved a special place in her icy heart for Joao. Exactly why, he could not tell. She’d grilled him torturously, asking questions far beyond his education, and the humiliating him for it. At the very least, he’d won some pity and respect from his classmates. As the students filed out of the classroom, a dreadful voice snagged Joao’s flesh like barbed hooks. “Student Joao. If you would attend me for a moment longer?” A pair of Flowers cast him an empathic smile and then scurried off. Joao returned the smile. He had the feeling it was the last smile he would get for a while.
Uncertain just where to position himself in this after class conversation, he finally elected to position himself a pace ahead of the front row of desks, facing the board and Mistress Isolde. Isolde remained with her back to him, busily wiping the board clean. When the last student escaped, she dusted her hands off. “Tell me, Student Joao. “How is your mother?” A question about Harmonics was what Joao was expecting. Something complex about twelve-tone equal temperament, maybe. Perhaps, if not that, even a question from the previous class in Symbology.Something to show her relentless academic cruelty toward him. His mother was not a subject that he expected her to ask about. It took a moment for Joao to compose himself, and compose a reply. He finally bowed his head toward her, even with her back toward him. Even if she were icy-cold to him, proprieties and respect had to be given. For all of the various reasons she merited it. "Apologies, Mistress Isolde." Joao decided on an apologetic, firm tone to start. "I was unaware that you were acquainted with my lady Mother the Baroness." He paused a moment. "I recently had the opportunity of a brief visit back home, and so can accurately report firsthand that my mother is in excellent health and doing well." He nodded his head again, and remained watchful and vigilant for her answer. “That’s excellent news. And do not be embarrassed. I doubt that she would have mentioned me,” Isolde said, sitting behind her desk. “Please have a seat.” I'm swimming in increasingly dangerous waters. Joao thought. And a predator extremely close, dangerously so. Joao finally picked the seat formerly taken in the Harmonics class today by a dark haired young man whose name he didn't catch. His long legs planted his feet firmly on the floor and he extended his arms out so that his palms lightly gripped the far lip of the desk. Too much tension would not be good to show. She leaned forward on her elbows, “You see, my true connection with your family is through your father. We were once students together.” She offered him an anglerfish’s smile. The first step to escaping a trap, Joao thought, is to recognize one. The first step in not being hooked is to see the lure. And yet, here was a dangling one that was irresistable. Joao couldn't resist it, and for the moment didn't even try to do so. Men were good for the army, keeping the family and house safe, and for breeding. Especially and most importantly the last. Mother had never told him that Father had been educated, as he now was. Never. Joao cleared his throat to cover the pause in his thoughts. He exhaled, once, and then looked up at Mistress Isolde. "I didn't know my father had attended the University, Mistress." Joao said. He paused a beat. And now to grasp the hook firmly in his mouth. "Tell me more. Please." Sensing the nibble, Isolde reeled him in with a skilled, gentle pace rather than brutal yank. She gestured at the seat across from her desk. The gesture was irresistible. One did not, as a Rebman male, refuse such a gesture. It was unthinkable. Joao slid out of the safer seat he had taken like water, and moved up to the desk she had suggested. “Rodion attended and excelled,” she said with some satisfaction. “And from what I’ve heard from Zeppel, you are following in his steps. Before he encountered your mother, his life revolved around the intricacies of alchemy. If you wish, I can refer you to some of his articles.” She smiled slightly, watching his reaction to this revelation. Isolde probably could see the bead of sweat on his forehead. Joao was sure that she could see the brightening of his eyes, the widening of his gaze, and the excitement that he tried to hold in abatement. Why his mother had never mentioned any of this was clear and not worth speculating about. It simply wasn't Rebman. Why *would* she do so? Joao dismissed, quickly, any thoughts that his mother had deliberately hidden this. It simply would not come up. But *why* Mistress Isolde was doing this was a completely legitimate problem. There were a *lot* of possibilities, and the only way to really discover it was to continue swimming in this current. And what did his father discover anyway? Would it be useful with the Darkest Hour problem? He was being hooked. He should decline, find an excuse, leave. And yet, and yet... He gave a bow of the head. "Professor Zeppel overestimates my abilities. There are others far more experienced and facile than I in alchemy." He thought of Gillian, and her central role in the incident with the Malachite's Blood. And Raina's role, too. Hers was greater than his skill. Surely. "Nevertheless..." Joao continued. His eyes met the green ones of the Rebman professor. "In order to improve my education in this area of study, I would like to see some of the articles my father had written." "I would be most grateful, Mistress Isolde." he added. “Very well,” she replied. She dabbed her quill in an inkpot and began scribbling down a list of titles. “With luck, the new librarian’s assistant will not have taken these out already. I hear she is a voracious reader and somewhat apt to removing copious amounts of literature from the shelves. Perhaps you know of her. She is a short girl with a rather obnoxious familiar.” "Da. I have met her. Miss Talbot." Joao responded. Isolde nodded. “Well then, you may request her assistance if need be.” Joao allowed himself a smile inside. It would be difficult, he reflected, to keep Miss Talbot from getting involved with the mystery. Isolde blew lightly on the paper to help the ink dry. “Wind’s Corridor,” she said. “That is where he did most of his research. And his thinking. A rather congenial, but aloof man, your father. He always had his head in the clouds. Sometimes literally.” She offered him the list of ten titles. Joao resisted the urge to snatch the list too eagerly. He reached his hand forward to take the list. His eyes scanned over the list briefly, leaving it to regard his professor again. Having studied alchemy, Joao realized most of the titles on the list dealt with chimeric fusion. "Spasiba, Mistress Isolde." he said. Joao paused a beat. "I am not familiar with Wind's Corridor." “Pozhaluista, Joao. The Wind’s Corridor is a narrow prominence on the western portion of Kolvir,” Isolde said. “It overlooks the Scar and, thus, access is usually restricted to Seniors.” Joao parted his lips in a signal of disappointment. She laughed wistfully, “Not that this stopped your father. He rarely allowed such things to interfere with his curiosity.” Joao shut his mouth. Was that was Mistress Isolde's game? A simple attempt to get him in trouble with the Provost Marshal by going to forbidden areas. He still didn't have a reason *why* she was telling him this. Especially given her role as a bete noire in his two classes. "Are you doing all of this for me for his sake, Mistress Isolde?" Joao asked. He tried to sound less clever than he thought he was being. Isolde gave a slight nod. “In part,” she said. “I owe your father much. And my love for him has not changed after these many years. So, the least I might do for my former lover is allow part of him to survive through his son. A son I might have borne had circumstances been different.” She sipped from her tea cup, suddenly reflective. Like the sharpness of the sudden touch of a tendril from a Physalia, Joao's attention snapped at Isolde's response. It began to clarify for him, even as what Mistress Isolde said, and did, became clearer. It explained so much. In another world, in another life, he would have been her son. That's why she was so hard on him in both classes, and he should not and would not expect much if any leavening of that after this conversation. A mother wants what is best for her son, after all, and if her son shows any of the abilities of his father, and unusual abilities for a male at that...no wonder she was so very harsh on pushing him. But...But...Isolde was a rival to mother? Was that what this was all about? What did mother know? What did mother not know, and what could he find out? And there were still more to all this, from Isolde's side, to understand someday. For the moment, though... He bowed his head. "Your efforts to see me fill at least an uncia of his potential aptitude. "Perhaps I have, in some ways, unwittingly have swum in the same currents as my father already." Joao thought of the expedition with Gillian, Raina and Seabhac and smiled visibly. "I will do him honor by not squandering my abilities. I promise." Joao paused a beat. "In future, any guidance you might give in that regard would be most welcome, Mistress." Isolde bowed her head, “I expect nothing less than perfection from you, Student Joao. I will provide you with what guidance I can, but I will not allow you to take advantage of my connection to your father. That would be a disservice to you and a dishonor to him.” Joao winced inside. That was not his intent at all. He cursed himself silently for not making it clear to Mistress Isolde. Now she would be even harder on him, he thought. Outwardly, he bowed his head submissively but said nothing. When he raised his eyes, he first looked at her cup, rather than his teacher. A hint of a smile crouched at the corner of Isolde’s delicate mouth. She refilled her cup with oolong tea. “Stay close to the land-walkers you call friends, Joao,” she paused and looked up. Her eyes remained dark as the deepest oceans. “And beware the answers to questions that should not be asked.” "Da, Mistress Isolde." Joao said. His tone was still submissive, respectful, and compliant. He hoped it sounded as earnest as he intended it. He still looked at her now full cup rather than her, directly. "I have learned not to swim into alluring but perilous reefs." “A pearl of wisdom you should hold onto dearly, Student Joao,” Isolde said. Her hand drifted to the papers on her desk, fanning them out like the fronds of a gorgonian. “I think I have delayed you enough for today. Until our next meeting, udacha porashchanie.” Dismissively, she plucked one of the pages from the pile and began reading. "Thank you." Joao said, bowing his head, aware that Mistress Isolde had already afforded all of the attention he was going to give him today *anyway*. Clutching the handwritten page she had given him like a talisman, he departed the classroom. Behind him, a shark in fancy dress smiled. |
