Chapter 23.

"So, any of you want to earn some points? Then please come in and show us what you've learned! Not an innate gift, please! Whoever cheats gets nothing!"

In spite of the liveliness of character that is usually characteristic of individuals marked by levity and superficiality, Master Saag-Kof had prepared for the class thoroughly. There were bundles of dry branches in the corners; a huge glass bowl full of water on the rostrum; a trough of sand nearby and several rectangular cobblestones around it. There was also a strange structure, consisting of a round iron-clad metal shield suspended from a wooden tripod, with two small metal balls on spokes. What it was for became clear later, but for now Tim just watched the others perform.

Ruum-Fib was the first to volunteer. He built an impressive-sized fireball that easily set one of the bundles ablaze. Master Saag-Kof nodded approvingly.

"Not bad, not bad at all! However, for us, peirots, who have an innate penchant for Fire, this is how it should be. But, once again, a good mage is never limited to one element! How about mastering Water or Air, any luck?"

"I know some formulas, but I doubt it will work," Ruum-Fib admitted.

"And you do not doubt, then it will work! What formulas have you learned?"

The attempt to create a Water Splash was indeed a failure. A little better was the Whirlwind - the airflow caused a distinct ripple on the surface of the water poured into the bowl.

"Not bad for a start!" Master Saag-Kof approved. "Well worthy of three points!"

Next up was Gillmir, who had learned the Freeze spell. He was offered to test it on the same water.

"Can you make it to be covered with an ice crust?"

Gillmir recited the formula diligently, but there was no visible change.

"May I try again?"

As he came closer, Master Saag-Kof touched the bowl.

"It seemed to cool down a bit. Well, if you're sure, go ahead!"

This time it turned out better - the walls of the bowl were fogged up, which was noticeable even in the back rows. The teacher was also impressed.

"For a second class, it was great! Keep up the good work, and sooner or later you'll be able to do this!"

With a wave of his wand Master Saag-Kof turned the entire contents of the bowl to ice and the rostrum was covered with frost. At the same time there was the sound of breaking glass.

"How could I have forgotten that water expands when it freezes! Well, we'll fix that now!"

A cloud of silvery blue flakes enveloped the shards, joining them together into the original structure. With the next spell, the bowl (perfectly intact, not even a crack left!) was filled with water again.

"What magic do you think I used to fix this glass vessel? Magical Glue? Do you really know such a spell? Actually, it's a Form Restoration, a spell related to Transformation magic. Here's the formula: ains ulteak toi focar. Its essence is multifaceted, some variations are used in other schools of magic as well, for example, in Healing in the treatment of fractures. It is a very valuable sorcery, I advise you to learn it!"

He was immediately asked to tell them more about the magic of Transformation and to give them formulas that would allow to turn something into something else.

"Formulas? As many as you like! Here's the basic one, and here are variations for all occasions (several columns of similar word combinations appeared on the board). Do you want to see how they work?"

An everyone's 'Yes!' was the answer.

"Well, look!"

Taeron was chosen as the 'guinea pig', sitting right in front of the rostrum; no one asked his consent, of course (and Tim was once again convinced of how imprudently it is to sit right in front of a teacher). And now Taeron's skin is darkening, his hair is shortening and turning black, and his shoulders are growing wide at the same time. Namitil and Faelinn, who are sitting on either side of Taeron, move cautiously away - an orc who resembles Shugiz at every drop of water is now beside them. Surprised oohs and aahs filled the audience, and only the orcs were not confused at all.

"Hey, Taeron, come join us, we're having fun!"

"Did you like it?" Master Saag-Kof, with the smile of a prestidigitator who had managed to amuse a bored audience, asked him, returning the elf to his former appearance at the same time. "That's just it! In the course of time you'll be able to do miracles like that, too. Blue Magic is good, but it takes too much mana. And spells don't last forever - sooner or later they the original form will be regain. The main thing is to take advantage of it! At one time self-transformation was fashionable among sorcerers. For instance, the king decided to have a dinner party and for some reason he forgot to invite you. No problem! Reincarnate into some very important person and quietly go to the dinner. But, enjoying the company of the authorities, do not forget to look at a clock!"

Just like in the fairy tale of Cinderella, Tim grinned. The clock struck twelve, and the beautiful dress will be transformed into a rags , the coachman into a rat, and the carriage into a pumpkin. Wouldn't it be easier to take advantage of illusions?

A second later his thought was voiced by Jaamite.

"Absolutely right, much easier! But only if there are no sorcerers with True Sight among those present! Yes, and it's better to stay away from mirrors then!"

"Taeron, will you tell us how it feels?" Heen-Lun shouted cheerfully to the laughter of the audience. I wouldn't want to be in his shoes, Tim thought - he was blushing, poor guy. Now he'll be the object of jokes, friendly or not, depending on who the joker is. Yeah, given the spontaneity and unpredictability of the Red Magic teacher, you'd have to be careful while talking to him. If you say the wrong thing, the consequences can be very unpleasant for you.

"It would have been funnier if he'd turned him into a girl," Ri-Bo said in a low voice so only his friends could hear. Tiis-Mir, however, heard it, too.

"Let's ask the Master to make a copy of Zhu-Fi out of you," she suggested, smiling.

"No, please!"

"I don't want to look like Shin'Ye'Het, either," Mez'A'Shib added.

Tim was wisely silent. Of course, he didn't want to become someone else's copy, not even temporarily.

Fortunately, Master Saag-Kof was no longer distracted by Blue magic.

"But let's get back to the Elements! Who else would like to speak?"

Among those wishing to demonstrate their talents were Hindag, who made a small whirlpool in the bowl, and Yantau, who dropped a few grains of sand to the floor with a stream of air. Patpako pointed his wand at the machine, and the metal balls on its spokes touched each other with an electric crackle - it was Magnetism spell. Shin'Ye'Het's wand shot out sparks for about a minute, filling the rostrum with them. Tim was going to use Sparks of Flame too, but there was no point now - he was unlikely to do any better. He should prepare something exclusive and effective enough, and not put it off for too long. Preferably for the next lesson - to stand back all the time doesn't make sense, he has to earn points. He didn't want to be listed among the laggards and stay here for the entire period of study. The local school is fun, no doubt, but sometimes you want to be at home, too. And why aren't there any vacations? They are everywhere, even in the military schools, where the boys are taught discipline from childhood!

"When class is over, don't run away, there's important news," Mez'A'Shib whispered to Tim.

"I'll have another lesson right after."

"What's that?"

"Teaching literacy to tilfings and orcs."

"Are you serious or are you kidding?"

"Absolutely seriously. I suggested it myself at first for Ri-Bo only. But I didn't expect so many people to volunteer."

"Well, I'll drop in just after it," the drow hastened to conclude the conversation so as not to draw attention.

A couple more of their classmates volunteered after it. Gook-Luk didn't do so well - the Ring of Fire only showed up in tiny flame petals, which quickly went out, and the teacher advised her to prepare something simpler next time. And Kakh'I'Geg was a complete failure about Foggy Mud, which was followed by a lecture on the subject: a spell that combines the properties of several elements should be left for later, first mastering each of them separately. But the drow did get her point, 'for perseverance in pursuit of her goal'.

"I can earn points that way, too!" Ri-Bo commented humorously. "Now I learn the formula for Firestorm, and I don't care if I can't do it, but I get a point in my pocket!"

A similar idea seemed to have occurred to Faelinn, who had promised to make a Hot Steam combining Fire and Water. But nothing came of his idea, and he didn't get a point.

"Hot Steam?" Master Saag-Kof grinned. "But it's quite simple! Zeabh toruit llipia ess!"

The water poured into the bowl sprang forth, then it boiled over in a flash. A cloud of steam rose over the rostrum and drifted up into the rows, settling dewdrops on the desks and students. Only a fraction made it to Tim and his friends, but even that was enough - he had to wipe his face and hands on his uniform. It was like running into a steam room for a minute and popping back out into the fresh air.

After such an adventure everyone had no desire to demonstrate anything at all. The teacher did not insist - just wished further success, promising to evaluate them... well, one day.

Those who were to learn penmanship were not in a hurry to leave the room, letting the others go ahead. This time they mastered the syllables and putting them into words. Tim was heartily pleased with the success of his 'students' - they were already holding the stylus with much more confidence.

"Next time we have to consolidate the knowledge gained," he announced with an important look at the end. "One by one I will call to the board to make simple sentences. Please, be ready."

"And we're always ready!" Shugiz exclaimed mischievously.

"Well, then you're welcome to set an example for the others."

"Nah, I'd rather take a rain check! I'm not really in the mood for this!"

"Scared?" Rumara grinned. "How, then, were you going to become the Supreme Shaman? Well, watch and learn."

She stood up and took a decisive step toward the blackboard.

"Come on, dictate."

Tim, who had not expected such a turn of events, could think of nothing better than the phrase 'Mommy makes a dinner'.

Rumara made it like 'Umi maiss e tina'.

I guess I'll have to pronounce the words more clearly, at least until they have enough vocabulary, Tim thought. Then he corrected the writing.

"For the first time it's not bad in principle; I could do worse for my first time," he said diplomatically. Especially considering the fact that some people even after years of study write with mistakes. And if it came to serious writing, it was unlikely that he would be able to make it perfectly either. Especially since he did not have time to learn all the rules of grammar. Fortunately, he wouldn't need them to write the spells.

"I want to try it too!" Zhu-Fi jumped up.

She was asked to act out the phrase 'I sit at my desk'.

"Can I have my notes? I do not remember how to write the letter 'd'!" the owner of horns with pink bows asked coquettishly.

How can he forbid it? By and by, with fluttering her eyelashes and asking if the next letter was the right one, Zhu-Fi scribbled down the required text. Tim restrainedly praised her, but advised to learn to write without looking at the notes. After all, none of the Masters would repeat it twice for her.

As no one else expressed a desire to show off at the blackboard, he had to announce the end of the class. They disagreed on the date of the next one, and Tim, without thinking too much about it, appointed Rumara as his deputy, instructing her to settle the matter and let him know when everyone would be ready.

On his way out of the classroom Tim called out to Ri-Bo:

"Hang on a minute, there's something to do."

"Mez told he had important information," Tim said hurriedly, when none of their classmates remained around. "There's a suggestion to discuss it right now. I don't think anyone's coming here tonight. Will you fetch Naar-Tam and Mez'A'Shib? I'll keep watch around... just in case."

Left alone, Tim made a detailed examination of the second tier. There was no sign of a ladder leading to the third tier, not even a hint that it had ever been there. So there was no way to get up there without levitation. But not all Masters are good at levitation, to say nothing of apprentices! So the only way to get there is through the museum. But why block access to the exhibits when you can simply block the way upstairs? There was no point in trying to force the way in, he was quite sure of it. But perhaps the front door isn't the only way into the museum. He needs to examine the Main Hall very carefully: irregularities in the walls, strange bulges in the bas-reliefs, and other out-of-context details might indicate the existence of hidden passageways nearby.

But he had to put it off for later when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Fortunately, it was Naar-Tam.

"And where is Mez?"

"Ri-Bo went to look for him. Do you happen to know what he wants to tell us?"

"No, I would like to know it, too. All I can guess is that the elixir is ready and we can continue our adventure at any time."

"And that required a special secrecy regime? He could have just said something like, 'Dinner is ready'. Whoever needed it would have understood it, and the rest wouldn't need to know!"

"It's so, but the details would still have to be discussed in the absence of witnesses. So Mez is absolutely right. By the way, if you're lucky enough to find the stash in the dungeon, maybe you'll get lucky again."

"What do you mean?"

"It seems to me that the bricked-up entrance isn't the only way into the museum."

The peirot got the hint right.

"Let's see," he said, studying the walls adjacent to the stairs.

"I don't think so," Tim grimaced. "What good would it do to have a back door next to the front door? I suppose if there's one here, it's in the Main Hall."

"That's true. Let's go!"

They had only a partial view of the Main Hall when Ri-Bo and Mez'A'Shib arrived; the latter hid something oblong under his uniform.

"Now, when we're all together, what's your secret?"

"Better not here. Let's go to the classroom!"

Once inside there, the drow headed downstairs.

"Hey, why not in our seats?" the tilfing called out to him.

"Too close to the door; if anyone come near it he'll be able to hear us standing right outside."

"Oh right, I didn't think of that! Then pick the right spot!"

They sat at the side of the rostrum, on the bundles of dry branches left over from the class (Master Saag-Kof hadn't thought to take study guides with him), and Mez'A'Shib took out and unwrapped the parcel, which contained three rolled sheets of parchment paper.

"Rugud found the sketches of the guy who explored the lower tiers before us. The minus first tier, I think, may be put aside - there is nothing fundamentally new compared to what we already know. The minus second tier plan is much more interesting."

Mez'A'Shib spread out the relevant sheet of paper in front of his friends and poked his finger somewhere on the interlacing of the lines.

"We took a wrong turn there, and got lost as a result. But now, with the map, it's easy to find our way out of the maze. From here, there are two paths to the right and to the left. In principle it doesn't matter which one you choose as they both lead in the same direction - to one more labyrinth, which is not as wide as the first one. Next is the Mirror mentioned by the dwarves. And a few steps away from it is the entrance to the minus third tier."

"There are some strange markings," Naar-Tam frowned as he leaned over the sheet.

Tim took a closer look. Indeed, the author of the sketches did not bother with detailed descriptions of the dangers along the way, limiting himself to the words like 'trap' or 'cliff'. And it is at best - at least it is clear what is to be feared. But what did he mean by 'bridge' or 'needles'? And 'illusions' is too vague; there are so many of them! The tunnel where they almost got bogged down in hot tar was simply called 'flypaper'. The good thing is that there was no more 'flypapers' on the minus second tier. The door they couldn't move, as it turned out, opened from the outside, and they would have to work hard, too, since that was where the path of strength led. On the opposite side of the maze was another door, beyond which lay the path of nimbleness. Neither the cache nor the 'coin' were marked -most likely, they simply hadn't been seen.

"Nonsense, we'll figure it out on the spot," Ri-Bo said nonchalantly.

"By the way, did you notice one thing: the geerkhs had no magic, and the lower tiers are full of magical traps. Isn't a contradiction here?" Tim remarked ironically.

"That's a good point! That didn't occur to me."

"It's strange indeed," Mez'A'Shib said with a thought. "Those without magic can, of course, use enchanted things, but one can feel the hand of an experienced and powerful warlock in this case."

"May be so," Naar-Tam agreed. "And I thought at first the geerkhs had some sort of grudge against the schoolfellows and wanted revenge."

"Then they'd have had enough of filling the lower tiers with mechanical traps, like the dwarves do," the drow objected. "They'd be just as effective as magical ones, and no mag-detector would detect them."

"By the way, has the mag-detector arrived yet?" Tim was interested in.

"No. Rugud will tell us then. I don't think we'll be needing it in the near future. After all, we have a map now! I'll carefully redraw it and bring the original back."

"A copy for me, please!" Naar-Tam cheerfully declared.

"What for? You're going in alone?"

"Nope! Just in case!"

"All right, I'll make two. If one of them gets lost, we'll have another..."

"What's interesting on the minus three tier?" Ri-Bo interrupted him.

The map of the corresponding tier was a spiral (a snail's house, as Tim called it), gradually narrowing toward the center. The central part, alas, was not drawn, remaining a "blank spot" - the mapper didn't get to the minus fourth tier. Either he couldn't, or he didn't want to, or he simply didn't have time - now it's impossible to determine why.

"When will the potion be ready?" Naar-Tam became impatient.

"Soon. By the way, the kobold approved our idea to go in the morning. The dwarves don't mind either, they have even begun to assemble an 'adventurer's kit' for us, or, simply put, a bag of a lot of useful things."

"That's great!" Ri-Bo's eyes lit up. "But we'll need another bag to collect the crystals."

He said and he was immediately saddened: he would have to go back to the anzimars tomorrow with another tribute. Last time he had tried to get away with five small balls on the pretext that he couldn't find anything else, there were too many competitors. He got a slap on the wrist from Hindag along with an order to spend more time on the search. Otherwise, the next time he will be held 'educational conversation' with the use of brute physical force. I would have to give them the better crystals, which I did not want to part with, Ri-Bo thought. Okay, after the second visit to the dungeon, their supply should be enough for a long time - unless, of course, he'll spend them on himself.

Fortunately, his friends did not notice his mental anguish.

"You're the one who's going to carry him! We'll do the rest!"

The discussion was interrupted by the arrival of Rumara, armed with a broom and a rag.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" she was astonished to see our friends.

"We're... inventing a new spell!" Ri-Bo came up and Mez'A'Shib hurriedly rolled the papers back up into a roll.

"Don't you have anything better to do? First, study what is described in the books! That should keep you busy for a few years. Well, I've got some cleaning to do, so get out of here."

"What were you punished for?"

"For bad behavior," the orc girl smiled grimly. "By the way, I wouldn't recommend going down to the dining room anytime soon. Unless, of course, you want to do community service, too."

As it turned out, someone had poured water on Mr. Pulsok from the stairs leading to the zero tier. The joker managed to escape, and since he didn't use magic, it was impossible to trace who it was. And so, enraged, the goblin began pestering the pupils who passed by, asking who might have 'criminal intentions', and moralizing at the same time. Rumara was one of the others who got in trouble. To the reasoning about how a 'good girl' should behave, she answered straightforwardly, "Why don't you go far away, goblin?" This insolence made Pulsok lose his nerve, and Agyg, who tried to grab the 'rascal', was kicked sensitively. Only the ghosts who came to the rescue managed to 'restore order', unleashing a whole lot of magic on Rumara. Her body immediately refused to obey, and she began to feel sadness and indifference to her own fate, burdened by a severe guilt complex. But then it got worse: obeying the order, the orc girl approached and knelt in front of the goblin, and then against her will she uttered a request for forgiveness. In a triumphant voice she was offered a choice between three days of solitary confinement and twenty-five hours of community service. After a moment's hesitation Rumara chose the latter, and as a result she ended up here.

"That's cool! I wouldn't have the guts to do that," Ri-Bo said admiringly.

"Yes, some goblins take offense at being called goblins," Mez'A'Shib said in a sarcastic tone. "I fear he would not forgive you for such an insult."

"I don't give a damn," Rumara answered with a frown. "If it happened on Guldur, I'd smash him against the nearest wall. I hope I get that chance here, too, sooner or later."

"You're so bloodthirsty," Naar-Tam grinned.

"I'd like to see you in such a situation. There is nothing worse than knowing your own powerlessness. Oh, well, if I learn some protective magic, there'll be a nasty surprise for Pulsok. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some cleaning to do. And after that, I have to go to Rugud to make arrangements for the rest of my work."

"If he offers to do the dishes, call us for help!" the peirot suggested half-jokingly.

"Are you serious? Yeah, I remember, Chilajt once bragged that her friends had helped her helped to work off all the punishment in one evening. So that were you? Aren't you afraid I'll agree?"

You can't just retract your own words!

"It's not in our habit to be afraid."

"Well, we'll see," said Rumara with a grin. "There are a lot of people who can talk with their tongues, but when it comes to business, no one is."

"Knock on the door of 28th room when you need to, and you'll find out if it's just tongues we use."

"I'll take you up on that. And now..."

The friends got the hint right and without further ado hurried to the exit of the classroom. Tim thought bitterly that he would not be able to visit the library today, because he did not want to get into trouble, so he would have to postpone it until tomorrow.

"There seems to be something new on the wall," Naar-Tam said as they descended the stairs to his own tier. "I wonder what it's about? Wow, I think it's about you, Tim!"

A few days after arriving at the school, Faelinn had a genius idea: if you want something, why ask everyone you meet about it when you can advertise it? So he got a piece of chalk and drew on the side of the Code of Conduct: 'Who wants to exchange unnecessary fragments of a mosaic with the image of a ship, go to the 37th room'. The classmates liked the idea - similar announcements immediately adorned almost all the free space on the wall of the central hall of the first tier.

Alas, in addition to purely 'business' suggestions, there were often inscriptions of an insulting nature, such as 'Lycoses, orcs, gaarshes, and gorgons, out of the school!', soon followed by 'And drowes (vampires) too!', and after it - 'Elves are fools!' There were personal messages like 'Xitati is a crybaby' or 'Alkitmi is a slob'. Somebody, clearly not lacking in artistic talent, caricatured Shin'Ye'Het's head and signed it 'Snake in all its glory'. Rumor has it that the drow "princess" was furious and vowed to find the doodler at any cost and to poison his life, both figuratively and literally. From time to time Pulsok gave the command to clear the wall, but soon it would fill up again. There was only one direct message concerning Tim, but what a message! 'Tim + Chilajt = love'. It had to be promptly eliminated, and Ri-Bo, who had brought the news of its appearance, was under suspicion of authorship. It was only when it turned out that the tilfing could not write the suspicion was lifted.

Tim, who this time expected about the same thing (now with a mention of Selkise), breathed a sigh of relief - it was just 'In the 30th room you will be taught how to write'. But he erased that one, too, just in case.

"I've had enough of the ones I already have," he explained to his friends.