Chapter 4: I Arrive at the Academy (part 1)

The Workbook and I had planned that I would be the quiet mousy student, someone easily overlooked, much as how I had spent my time in the GlassClaw household. However, once Misty had dropped off the adult passengers in the quiet town of Mousseline, she took me up the wide snowy road to the front doors of the Academy, nosed open the pin which locked her in the sleigh’s traces, and walked straight over to the first people we saw. These were two young women in students’ robes, possibly in their later teenaged years, and absolutely unprepared to be addressed by a wolf large enough to snap their heads from their bodies in a gulp.

“I am pledged to the lord of this land for four years, seven months, and four days,” she told them. “After my current contract ends in a fortnight-and-one, I shall work for this school. I shall room and take meals with my friend, Boopsie.”

Misty dipped her head towards me.

This set off a…a small bit of chaos.

The students at the Academy (myself included) quickly learned that Misty’s people, the Howl living in the mountains across the river and to the north, each pledged five years of service to the local lord in exchange for being left alone on their lands. The wolves were allowed to choose their course of labor, and were allowed to change their contracts at any time (because who would tell them otherwise?). Apparently it was considered good luck to have an Amarok choose to work for you (because who would tell them otherwise?). And Misty had chosen to work here, now, the only stipulation being that she wanted to be with me.

So instead of sneaking in unnoticed, I entered Mousseline Academy between the forepaws of a monster.

The history of the Academy was that of a wealthy lord’s country estate which had been transformed into a boarding school, and this showed in the details of the building. The walls were of old stone or polished wood, all of it aged before its time from the touch of many small hands. Beautifully carved doors with brass knobs showed dents or discolored patches from attempts to cover up mistreatment; the floors were either honed marble or patterned tile, often splashed with faded black from what must have been dropped bottles of ink. All of it smelled like books and cleaning solutions and sugared pastries.

Classes were in session so there were few people about, but those who saw us froze in place and watched us pass—the girl, the monstrous wolf, and the two older students wearing the fixed smiles of those seeking to push a problem onto the nearest adult. This turned out to be Mistress Weatherby, a Fourth-Form teacher who had been on her way to the dining hall for another cup of coffee.

“Well,” she said to both myself and Misty as we settled into her office. It was not sized for even a juvenile Amarok, and the wolf was hunched over herself to avoid crushing Weatherby’s bookshelves. “This is…yes. This is above my authority. Perhaps we should wait for the Headmistress to return from the city tomorrow.”

“It isn’t complicated,” Misty said, her sweet, deep voice somewhat muffled as her head was all but lost within the curtains, with only the black tip of her nose poking out. “I shall work for the school, doing whatever tasks you set me to perform. In exchange, you provide me with room and board. This is the contract.”

“I mean no disrespect, Mistress…?”

“Misty,” I offered.

“Mistress…” Weatherby paused before rallying. “…Misty. And we would be honored to take over your contract, and provide room and board separate from Miss Bernadette—”

“Boopsie,” I corrected her. I was greatly enjoying this, even as I was sure the Workbook was becoming increasingly apoplectic with each word. “And I don’t mind rooming with Misty. She is excellent company, and she’ll be working while I am at my classes so neither of us need to worry about distractions.”

Misty’s tail wagged; glass broke.

Mistress Weatherby’s eyes closed tight for a brief moment. “Then I will allow it for this evening, with the caveat that the Headmistress might not…approve of this…unconventional roommate…situation. She might wish to change it when she returns. Or not. I will not presume to guess her mind.” Weatherby sounded somewhat exhausted. Perhaps we should have allowed her to get the coffee first. “Mistress Misty, you—ah.” Weatherby paused. “Is it offensive to call you a wolf?”

“Why would it be?” Misty tilted her head. “Amarok are wolves.”

“I feel like it would be comparable to referring to humans as monkeys.”

“Ah.” Misty seemed to think about this. “This might be a…translation issue. Those of the Howl know who we are, regardless of the words humans use.

“And we are wolves,” she said again, somewhat proudly this time.

I doubted I’d ever feel that way about apes.

“Thank you for the clarification,” Weatherby said. “You are dismissed to check in with your current employers. I believe you have two weeks left on that contract?”

“And a day.” The tip of Misty’s nose dipped low in a courteous bow, and I stood to open the door so the wolf could, very slowly, back out of Weatherby’s office. Once free of the curtains, she pressed her forehead against me again, and then spun and darted down the hall.