Mustrum Ridcully, DM, D.Thau, a whole list of et ceteras and, just incidentally, the Archchancellor of Unseen University, raised his eyebrows and peered over his reading glasses from a neatly and very thoroughly creased letter to the glowering face of a disgruntled-looking, early-teenaged girl. Her hair was long and dark and pulled into a ponytail at the base of her skull. She was dressed all in black and while it wasn't quite the kind of dress one might expect of a professional witch, it gave the distinct impression that a certain amount of witchieness was well within the realm of possibility, especially given the girl's unhappy frown. This was odd, to say the least. While Ridcully had the greatest respect (and at one time an admiring affection) for at least one witch, they weren't usually found within the walls of UU. Witch Magic and wizard Magic were entirely different categories but—here she was.
According to the letter, her name was Penelope Ogg and it had turned out that in addition to magical talent, she had a rather short, violent temper. A particularly unpleasant sixth level student had tried to bully her when she first came through the great Octiron gates of the University and she'd snarled and turned him into a smoking crater. Fatalities among the student body weren't unusual during their undergraduate years but usually it was magical books or overconfidence on the part of the students, not their classmates who were responsible. However, the testimony of one of the Bledlows, one Wiggleigh to be precise, made it quite clear that the older boy had started things and simply got what he had coming. Ridcully was mildly impressed.
"So Miss Ogg," he began, "this letter fr'm Queen Magrat of Lancre states that y'are the great-granddaughter of Gytha (Nanny) Ogg and th' granddaughter of the esteemed smith Jason Ogg."
"Yessir."
"And though you come fr'm a long line o' highly regarded and pow'rful witches, she believes (as a witch in 'er own right) that witchcraft is not yer callin' but that y'may have the potential t' b'come a wizard. Either that or a professional privy sinker. How many deep holes have y'melted?"
"Dunno, sir. A fair number. Most of 'em were me jus' tryin' to start a fire t'brew tea."
"Indeed. Didjer wave a wand or a staff?"
"Nossir, I just pointed at a pile of sticks an' thought about fire. I did manage to get a real fire started one time, though. The others jus' turnt into fireballs and sank out o'sight."
"Ah, but yer did get one actual fire started. Was that r'cently?"
"Yessir. It were just before I got on th'train. I were hopin' that they might let me stay iffin I got one right. 'nstead Nanny congratulated me on improvin' m'control and then ver' pointedly took me to the train station. 'm a bit on the outs with the town, right now."
"Ah, poor lass." He patted her hand. "Well, yer in the right place for one o'yer talent. The last student we had here who was flingin' fireballs at a tender age was Eskarina Smith. R'markable child. She convinced th'faculty of th'time that what the most import'nt thing 'bout Magic was the knowin' when
not
t'use it. She still shows up now and again. Lives over in the Unreal Estate these days, don'tcherknow, 'nd is most remark'ble for her skill in the Traveling Now."
He turned to the Bledlow. "Wiggleigh, 'f y'd take th'young lady t'Mrs. Whitlow t'be fitted with proper student kit and then have Ksendra introduce her t'Professor Phoebe Emergent. And tell her to find Miss Ogg a single room in th' student dormitory. Can't have a young gel livin' amidst a bunch of hooligans, yer know. O'course, if a chap were silly enough to try takin' liberties, she'd likely either straighten him out immejitly or melt 'im down for cookin' fat. Anyway, welcome to Unseen, Miss Ogg. We'll be lookin' forward t'see how yer develop."
There isn't a lot of paperwork involved in enrolling in Unseen. For most students it's a natural consequence of having sparks fly out of their fingers. Not everyone at UU studies Magic but most do. Evidently Penelope wasn't being given the choice. Lancre didn't want her around scorching either citizens or tourists and the market for high temperature tunneling wasn't very large. At the very worst, Phoebe Emergent consoled the girl, a degree in Magic would lead to a tenured position at the University with accompanying apartment, four officially generous meals per day (plus snacks) and very few responsibilities—until the dreadful day some eldritch horror appeared. Then she would be part of the City's first line of defense. Wizards might usually have a soft life but it is one that could come to a sudden, ghastly end. The girl's innate skill with fireballs might well be appreciated by her colleagues when she perfected it.
At Second Luncheon, Phoebe introduced Penelope to a group of boys sitting on either side of a long table. One of them, Wolfe Woodbead, brightened up and rose to his feet. In the most courtly manner he could manage, the older boy pulled out a chair and slid the girl up next to the table. Then he proceeded to introduce her to the others sitting there. Evidently he was greatly pleased at the idea of a girl as a student at Unseen. Looking around the Great Hall, Penelope immediately understood why. She was the only one. One girl in an entire Great Hall of boys and men—except for Phoebe and the serving maids, of course.
'
Gosh
,' she thought, '
maybe getting sent away to school could be a good thing, after all. I'll have to see if the Lancre court has any need for a court wizard, but if not, staying here might just be okay. The odds are certainly in my favor!'
"Penelope, how are you with spicy food? Lately we've been putting away a goodly number of a-vo-ca-dos with Wow-wow sauce and if you'd like to give it a try, I'll split one with you." Hastor Thumbfinger was on his best behavior and really eager to impress the new girl.
Penelope was dubious. "
How
spicey?"
"Uh, well—it kind of drains your sinuses and makes you cry? And you blush clear down to your toes? It's really exciting, though, once you get used to it. The Archchancellor has it made back at his family estates and has a case shipped to us every couple of months. Just as a caution, though, don't shake the bottle!"
"Don't. Shake. Th' bottle."
"Yeah, well," Consideration Stibbons (second cousin to the Vice Chancellor) interjected, "the story is that some years back one of the University gardener's prize compost heaps sort of came to life? And rather alarmingly started chasing the senior faculty around campus? For reasons of his own, the Archchancellor unstoppered the lid on a bottle of his Wow-wow sauce and lobbed it into the center of the heap. The heap swallowed the bottle and exploded—flatulently. The resulting mess took a week to clean up. Ever since then whenever Ridcully reaches for the condiment cruet set the entire faculty leans away. None of us students have ever seen it explode but anyone who has tried it has no doubt that it can."
Penelope thought about that. These people used a sauce with a reputation for explosions on their food--on their actual
food
and ate it. Witches might do some strange things but nothing like that. There was no doubt that life among wizards was going to be—different. Still, different wasn't necessarily bad. And they did say it was exciting once you got used to it. Besides it would never do to be the only one to chicken out, especially since she was the 'new kid'.
She took a deep breath. "Okay, I'm game, but only if all th' rest o' you have some at th' same time. I wasn't born yestidday, y'know."
It was as though the serving maids had all been waiting in readiness. No sooner had Penelope agreed to try the dish than a tray of halved avocados was placed in the center of the group along with a gingerly handled bottle of Wow-wow sauce. When Cicely very carefully pulled out the stopper, a pungent scent and cloudy vapor flowed up out of the neck, down the sides and across the table in a widening ring.
"This is safe to eat?"
"Uh—for a given value of safe. You only use a small amount and you spread it all over the fruit. Just
don't
shake the bottle."
Penelope saw that all the boys were helping themselves to the odd-looking, green, pear-shaped fruit. It seemed that they really did plan to eat it. Okaaaaay . . . She put a half on her plate and then watched in some trepidation as each boy very carefully poured just a small amount on top and then equally carefully passed it onto a friend. She did note that the sauce didn't burn a hole in the avocado or do any other obvious damage, nor did it in any way discolor or stain the silverware. Right then, she'd do it.
Wolfe delicately dressed her portion with the sauce. Up close the scent was even more disquieting. Watching her tablemates, she cut off a small piece and as they all did, stuck it in her mouth. The explosion of flavors was, just as they'd said, exciting. Alarm bells went off on her soft palate, her sinuses all drained at once, tears streamed down her cheeks and she felt a surge of heat start at her ears and then all the way down to her feet.
