light uninterrupted.'
'Remarkable,' Dr Tremaine announced after gazing
around the chamber. He was seated in a high-backed
chair at the headmaster's right, and had propped his pearl-headed
cane by his side. Aubrey was on the headmaster's
left, directly opposite Dr Tremaine, with George next to
him. George sat glumly, running a thumbnail over the
tablecloth.
A dozen boys from the sixth form had been invited to
the dinner. Most were from the Advanced Magic class,
with a few others – like George – for variety. Aubrey's
prime position was thanks to his excellence in magical
studies.
As the meal went on, the headmaster became increasingly
nervous, watching Dr Tremaine dispatch vast
amounts of the school's best wine. As far as Aubrey could
judge, the Sorcerer Royal was not affected at all, apart
from the gleam in his dark eyes becoming brighter.
Dr Tremaine dominated conversation around him,
telling story after story. But Aubrey noticed how he
made sure to include everyone at the table, calling for
responses and opinions from those at the far end of the
table as well as nearby, pointing at boys with his cane and
refusing to allow them to sit unengaged in the middle of
the animated discussion he was conducting. He even
managed to engage George by accurately guessing that
George would rather be elsewhere and admitting that he
enjoyed the outdoors more than being cloistered on such
a fine day.
After a particularly fine steamed pudding and custard,
Dr Tremaine pushed his plate aside, put an elbow onto
the table and dropped his chin into his hand. Hair fell
over one eye as he jabbed at Aubrey with his cane.
'Fitzwilliam, you're Sir Darius's son, aren't you? And don't
sigh or roll your eyes.'
'Yes, sir.'
'I thought so. Tell me, Fitzwilliam, you're in sixth form,
finishing up here at Stonelea, fine school as it is.' He
grinned at the headmaster, who smiled back awkwardly,
then he turned his intensity back to Aubrey. 'What's next?
What are you planning for your life? I'm interested.'
Aubrey folded his napkin and smoothed it in front of
him. 'Army and university. I'm not sure in what order.'
Dr Tremaine pursed his lips. 'And then?'
Aubrey wondered at his interest. Dr Tremaine had
questioned others at the table about their plans, but there
was something insistent about this attention. 'I'm not
sure,' he said, and he spread his hands. 'Travel? Stay in the
army? More study? I've plenty of time to decide.'
Aubrey wasn't sure why he didn't reveal his true ambitions.
He'd been impressed by Dr Tremaine. His immense
energy, his spirit, and his profound knowledge of things
magical set him apart from most of those who chose
magic as their life. While most magicians were retiring,
studious types, Mordecai Tremaine swaggered through
the world of magic as if it he was a pirate captain on the
deck of his prized flagship.
Is that why I don't want to tell him that magic won't be my
entire life? Aubrey thought. Is it that I don't want to disappoint
him?
He felt Dr Tremaine's compelling gaze as he tried to
frame a suitable response.
The headmaster coughed, and Dr Tremaine seemed to
remember he was there. 'Headmaster! You do fine work
here!' He swept his arm around the table. 'Your students!
I drink to them!'
He raised his wine, drained it and studied the empty
glass. 'Fine vintage, headmaster.'
'Yes, well . . .' The headmaster grasped for a conversational
straw. 'Tell us, Dr Tremaine, what are you working
on at the moment?'
Dr Tremaine sat back in his seat and placed his arms
on the rests. 'Many things, headmaster, many things.
Foremost is my work heading up a top secret research
establishment. Some fascinating magical work going on
there. Can't say much, though.'
'Of course,' the headmaster said.
Aubrey couldn't help himself. 'Defence-related, is it?'
Dr Tremaine narrowed his eyes. 'Why do you say that,
Fitzwilliam?'
'Well, doing work for the army or the navy would
be the quickest way to earn top secret status, especially
with the way
'Remarkable,' Dr Tremaine announced after gazing
around the chamber. He was seated in a high-backed
chair at the headmaster's right, and had propped his pearl-headed
cane by his side. Aubrey was on the headmaster's
left, directly opposite Dr Tremaine, with George next to
him. George sat glumly, running a thumbnail over the
tablecloth.
A dozen boys from the sixth form had been invited to
the dinner. Most were from the Advanced Magic class,
with a few others – like George – for variety. Aubrey's
prime position was thanks to his excellence in magical
studies.
As the meal went on, the headmaster became increasingly
nervous, watching Dr Tremaine dispatch vast
amounts of the school's best wine. As far as Aubrey could
judge, the Sorcerer Royal was not affected at all, apart
from the gleam in his dark eyes becoming brighter.
Dr Tremaine dominated conversation around him,
telling story after story. But Aubrey noticed how he
made sure to include everyone at the table, calling for
responses and opinions from those at the far end of the
table as well as nearby, pointing at boys with his cane and
refusing to allow them to sit unengaged in the middle of
the animated discussion he was conducting. He even
managed to engage George by accurately guessing that
George would rather be elsewhere and admitting that he
enjoyed the outdoors more than being cloistered on such
a fine day.
After a particularly fine steamed pudding and custard,
Dr Tremaine pushed his plate aside, put an elbow onto
the table and dropped his chin into his hand. Hair fell
over one eye as he jabbed at Aubrey with his cane.
'Fitzwilliam, you're Sir Darius's son, aren't you? And don't
sigh or roll your eyes.'
'Yes, sir.'
'I thought so. Tell me, Fitzwilliam, you're in sixth form,
finishing up here at Stonelea, fine school as it is.' He
grinned at the headmaster, who smiled back awkwardly,
then he turned his intensity back to Aubrey. 'What's next?
What are you planning for your life? I'm interested.'
Aubrey folded his napkin and smoothed it in front of
him. 'Army and university. I'm not sure in what order.'
Dr Tremaine pursed his lips. 'And then?'
Aubrey wondered at his interest. Dr Tremaine had
questioned others at the table about their plans, but there
was something insistent about this attention. 'I'm not
sure,' he said, and he spread his hands. 'Travel? Stay in the
army? More study? I've plenty of time to decide.'
Aubrey wasn't sure why he didn't reveal his true ambitions.
He'd been impressed by Dr Tremaine. His immense
energy, his spirit, and his profound knowledge of things
magical set him apart from most of those who chose
magic as their life. While most magicians were retiring,
studious types, Mordecai Tremaine swaggered through
the world of magic as if it he was a pirate captain on the
deck of his prized flagship.
Is that why I don't want to tell him that magic won't be my
entire life? Aubrey thought. Is it that I don't want to disappoint
him?
He felt Dr Tremaine's compelling gaze as he tried to
frame a suitable response.
The headmaster coughed, and Dr Tremaine seemed to
remember he was there. 'Headmaster! You do fine work
here!' He swept his arm around the table. 'Your students!
I drink to them!'
He raised his wine, drained it and studied the empty
glass. 'Fine vintage, headmaster.'
'Yes, well . . .' The headmaster grasped for a conversational
straw. 'Tell us, Dr Tremaine, what are you working
on at the moment?'
Dr Tremaine sat back in his seat and placed his arms
on the rests. 'Many things, headmaster, many things.
Foremost is my work heading up a top secret research
establishment. Some fascinating magical work going on
there. Can't say much, though.'
'Of course,' the headmaster said.
Aubrey couldn't help himself. 'Defence-related, is it?'
Dr Tremaine narrowed his eyes. 'Why do you say that,
Fitzwilliam?'
'Well, doing work for the army or the navy would
be the quickest way to earn top secret status, especially
with the way
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