Dowyr stood next to Weynon at the base of the stairs to the third floor, vigorously shaking his hands both from excitement and the minor pain he still felt in them. New students were lined up behind them, as only two were brought up at a time. All of them were wearing new white outfits with insignias sewn onto the shoulders that indicated Emogic type.

  “You okay?” Weynon asked.

  Nodding quickly, Dowyr hopped in place a few times.

  “Yeah, me too.”

  Dane came down the stairs and focused his attention on them. “Alright you two, let’s go meet your Emogic instructors.” He turned to Dowyr and signed, no funny business.

  Cross my eyes, Dowyr signed, doing just that after Dane turned back up the stairs. The brawny guards gave him disapproving looks, which he returned with an innocent smile as he made his way up the stairs with Weynon. At a certain point, it felt like an invisible blanket had been unwrapped from around his body. He could finally channel.

  “Weynon, you’ll be training with Misses Terson in Room 317,” Dane said. “It’s just right down that hall on the left.”

  Weynon took a deep breath. “Okay. Wish me luck, Dowyr.”

  “Good luck,” Dowyr channeled, using the voice of another boy from the orphanage.

  Weynon gave a start and looked at him wide-eyed. Dowyr winked and motioned for him to go.

  “Don’t be nervous now,” Dane said. “She’ll take good care of you. Go on, you don’t want to be late. As for you, Dowyr, you’ll be in Room 348. This way, it’s a bit of a walk. You’re our only Boredom Emogician, so you’ll be training with one of our Empaths, Miss Klausgow. It’ll be strictly one on one, so you had better be on your best behavior.”

  One on one? Dowyr thought as Dane led him down a few different halls. He had expected it to be in a full classroom like with everything else he was ‘learning’ at the Academy. “Why one on one?” he channeled to Dane.

  Dane missed a step and turned back to him. “Did you just speak?”

  Dowyr rolled his eyes. “No, you just heard me. Why one on one?”

  With a moment of hesitation, Dane replied, “Because it was requested. Are you channeling?”

  “Yes. Requested by who?”

  “By Miss Klausgow. Now you better stop that before you’re properly trained; being a Mind Intruder can be dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

  Fine, Dowyr signed despite knowing what he was doing. Why did she request that?

  “You’ll have to ask her. The room is just up here.”

  Dane led him to a door and opened it, motioning for him to enter. The room inside was just like any other classroom, except all the desks were moved to the back. No one was inside.

  Dowyr looked back at Dane questioningly.

  “She may be running late,” he said. “It’s typical of her. Don’t worry, she’ll be here. Best of luck.”

  Dane closed the door and signed through the small window, remember, behave, before disappearing. Dowyr took a deep breath and let it out through his teeth. That man was aggravating to be around. Being a Puffer probably had something to do with it. Why is Pride even an Emogic? he thought, going to a chair against the back wall. Shortly after sitting down, the door burst open to let in the most unpleasant sight Dowyr could have imagined.

  “Good morning, my little alien student!” the girl from yesterday said. “I hope you rested well last night. We have a lot to do today, so how about you show me what you got? Come on, channel at me.”

  Dowyr was in the process of pulling his Emogic out to ask her what on earth she was doing in here, but in a panicked realization he cut himself off. SHE’S THE EMPATH, a voice screamed in his head.

  “What’s the matter? Don’t be shy. I’m curious how Boredom tastes.”

  She is the Empath, Dowyr thought. He stared at her, every muscle stiff, and wondered how he could escape. The first problem was that she was bigger than him. The second problem was she’d know if he tried to channel at her. Could he channel to make his channeling disappear from her perspective? He didn’t know. If her Class level was low enough it might be possible, but could he take that risk?

  Instead of channeling or running, he signed, do you know signs?

  “You are deaf!? Were you—ugh! You have no idea what I’m saying. You only nodded your head yesterday to make me leave, didn’t you? I can’t believe this.”

  Dowyr groaned, pointing to his ears and nodding, then to his mouth and shaking his head.

  “You’re joking. Tell me you’re joking.”

  “I CAN’T SPEAK, WITCH,” Dowyr channeled as quickly as he could, though he wondered if he had used the right word. It seemed he had as the girl looked too shocked to react.

  “Wwwwow, okay. First of all, I’m an Empath, not a witch. Second of all, then continue to use your Emogic! You spoke with it just now, so clearly you have some understanding of how to use it.”

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  Dowyr vigorously shook his head. There was no way he was letting this girl use his Emogic. The Academy could find someone else to teach him.

  The girl sniffed. “Fine, have it your way. Wait right here a moment.” She walked out of the classroom and slammed the door behind her.

  Dowyr wasted no time in jumping from his chair and finding a spot to hide near the door, which happened to be behind the teacher’s desk. How soon would she return? There had to be a window of time in which he could safely leave. After a minute passed he got up and went to the door, creaking it open enough just to pop his head out.

  A tower of a man was standing right there, one of the brawny men who always guarded the stairs to the third floor, an unamused expression on his face. Dowyr blinked at him and slowly pulled back into the room and gently closed the door, then dashed back behind the teacher’s desk before the door opened again.

  “Alright, lad, ye’ve had yer fun,” the man said with a northern accent. “Come on out, I don’t want te have te hurt ye.”

  Dowyr wondered where the girl was. If the man was alone, perhaps channeling at him could ensure escape. Maybe the man didn’t even know the girl, and his being here was just happenstance. He could only hear one set of footsteps walking the room.

  A voice whispered right next to him, “Why are you hiding?”

  For a single moment the teacher’s desk seemed like the most insubstantial thing in the world, so it came as a complete surprise when Dowyr smashed right into it and rebounded onto his backside. The ceiling would not stop moving.

  “Ouch,” the girl said. “This is him, Donnan.”

  Donnan’s head hovered into view, looking concerned, and the girl’s head came up on the opposite side.

  Dowyr raised his arms and tried to sign, I can’t speak, though the way he felt his fingers move it probably wasn’t anything more than gibberish. He let out a groan.

  “I’ll get Claire,” Donnan sighed.

  He disappeared while the girl stayed and stared at Dowyr. He tried to return the look with some contempt, though his facial expression was apparently limited to that of pain. His head was starting to throb.

  The girl clicked her tongue. “What am I going to do with you? Look kid, I need you to channel. I can’t help you if you refuse. And you could at least be a bit more courteous; this isn’t Arkonia. I also hope you realize I can have you sent to the Headmaster.”

  Dowyr cringed. He had heard about what happened to people who were sent to the Headmaster of the Academy. Endless chore assignments and sermons on proper behavior. Such horrible, horrible things. If there was a time for him to stop being stubborn and rebellious, it was probably now.

  “Fine,” Dowyr channeled with some effort. “I’m channeling. Happy? All you can eat buffet of Boredom.”

  He kept the flow of Emogic coming but directed it at the air around him. It was then sucked into her and channeled right back at him in what appeared to be a flood of Emogic. He felt nothing but sudden dread.

  Oh…

  Oh? Elethe’s thought appeared in his mind like it was his own.

  What Class are you? Dowyr thought back.

  Class 3.9.

  Dowyr instantly stopped channeling, cutting her off. Snakes! he thought, his whole body somehow becoming even more tense. Snakes, Snakes, Snakes! That’s practically Class 4. Does she know everything about me now? I’m so fu—

  “Your name’s Dowyr Mawkin?” the girl asked. “Really?”

  You got a problem with that? Dowyr signed.

  She began to laugh uncontrollably. He tried to scoot away from the alien.

  The door opened letting in Donnan followed by a slender middle-aged woman.

  “What’s so funny?” Donnan asked.

  “He’s,” the girl wheezed, “He’s… oh, Heaven help mehehehe.”

  Donnan moved her aside and motioned the woman, Claire, to attend Dowyr. She came over and knelt by his side.

  “I see, just a minor concussion and some bruises on the hands,” Claire said. “Not to worry. Have you been healed before?”

  Dowyr shook his head.

  “Okay, just relax and lie as still as you can. You’ll feel a warm, tingling sensation.”

  Claire appeared to focus on something beyond Dowyr, as though seeing through him. Heat entered his head and hands, though not the unpleasant type. It was more like a blanket hung in the sunlight for a day being wrapped around him on a cold evening. Then it became a strange sizzling sensation, feeling as if his skin had become water just on the verge of boiling. The feeling went from pleasant to the most bizarre thing Dowyr had ever felt, but after a minute or so, all the pain in his head and hands was gone. A faint tingling remained.

  “How does that feel?” Claire asked.

  Dowyr sat up and signed, weird.

  “He says ‘weird’,” the girl said, struggling to suppress a grin.

  Dowyr blinked at her. Of course, she understood his signs now.

  “Oh, he’s a mute?” Claire asked. “I wish that were something that could be healed. Perhaps there is a Class level high enough where it could be healed, but there hasn’t been a Healer or an Empath higher than 3.7 in centuries. Well, at least your head and hands should feel better.”

  Dowyr nodded and smiled gratefully to her before she said her goodbyes and left.

  None higher than 3.7? he thought, staring at the girl.

  “Now,” Donnan said, “Why were ye laughing as if Elysium herself had possessed ye?”

  “It’s nothing,” the girl said. “I just maybe delved too deep into his mind. He channeled while you were away. You’re free to go.”

  Donnan gave her a skeptical look. “If ye say so. Does that mean ye have an answer for Garec?”

  “Yes, the answer is yes. For both.”

  The big man gave a long sigh. “So be it. Best of luck to ye, lad. Don’t let her bite ye too hard.”

  “Hey, I don’t bite.”

  He strode out with a snort, leaving Dowyr staring at the girl.

  “What?” she asked. “I can’t communicate telepathically unless you’re channeling, so if you have something to say do that or use your hands.”

  You still haven’t told me your name, Dowyr signed.

  “I’m Elethe Klausgow, your Emogic instructor for the foreseeable future. It seems you’ve already got lessons one through three down, so congrats on being at the head of the class.” She gave a brief round of applause.

  Elethe, a common name. Dowyr thought it didn’t fit her face, but he couldn’t put words to why.

  Do I have the rest of the day off then? he signed.

  “Not quite. We can just skip to lesson four. If you would channel again, please.”

  Dowyr stared at her, unmoving from his position on the floor. What was it about her face? And then there was something to do with what she said to the big man. Answer for what? he signed. Who is Garec?

  “My uncle, he runs security here at the Academy. He was just wanting me to confirm yours and someone else’s Emogic and Class for his records. Could you please channel, now?”

  That did not explain Donnan’s unusually somber response. Not to mention, the Academy already should’ve known his Emogic and Class. And then there was Claire seemingly not knowing Elethe was a Class 3.9 Empath. Was she keeping how powerful she was a secret? What else was she hiding?

  Finally it dawned on him why he thought her name didn’t fit her face; Elethes were supposed to be trustworthy, and she had a face too pretty to trust, which was all the more evident from what she was obviously hiding. Only trouble could follow a face like that, and Dowyr wanted nothing to do with it. If only he was a Class 2.5, he could channel and search her mind for the truth. Class 2.4 and below were limited to conscious thoughts and subconscious images when using telepathy.

  With little else to do, and more regret than he had ever felt before, Dowyr began to channel again.