One morning, Jeb was manning the bar. The riotous laughter that had accompanied most people’s first reactions to Firebeer had long since left the Emporium. It was still a cheerful and warm space, and there was always a background hum of conversation.

A few weeks into the operation, Catherine had recruited some of the other students in the College of Song to play in the Emporium. Today was a lute ensemble. The four Musicians were doing a fantastic job of adding to the ambience of the space, and soft strains of music floated around the tongues of flame.

When Margaret walked in, the music halted, just for a moment. She turned to the Musicians, and they hurried to keep plucking their strings. Nodding to herself, she started walking to the bar, each step in time to the music.

All the conversations in the Emporium came to a pause as she reached the bar. Jeb looked around, curious what he was missing.

“Good morning,” Margaret said with a nod.

“Good morning, Margaret,” Jeb replied happily. “Are you here for a Firebeer?”

“I am. I understand that there is a charge associated with it, however.”

Jeb shrugged. “I think that there’s a tally somewhere. Catherine and Declan have been keeping up with that. This one is on the house, regardless.”

He’d never seen the Librarian outside of the Library, and Jeb was curious what had prompted her to leave.

“That would be lovely,” she replied, taking a seat on one of the stools at the bar. It was early enough that no one was sitting next to her. Despite that, the nearest students still edged further away, trying to avoid the Librarian.

Jeb grabbed a mug and filled it from the barrel he had tapped the night before. With all the practice the term had given him pouring drinks, he had no issue forming exactly the right sized head for the brew. He passed the mug to Margaret and poured himself another.

“Not that I mind you coming here,” he said, flames winding through his hair, “but I don’t think that I’ve ever seen you outside of the Library.”

Margaret took a deep drink from her own mug, clearly savoring the flavor. Breathing out, she blew a small series of fireballs before responding. “Is it not enough for me to be here to support you?” she asked, eyes glinting with amusement.

Seeing that Jeb was about to speak, she shook her head and continued, “that is truly a significant reason that I am here. Otherwise,” she gestured to the mug in her hand and then the room they were in, “I have missed student led activities at the Academy, and I have missed Firebeer. You gave me an opportunity to accomplish three things that I wanted to do at the same time. Thank you for that.”

Jeb wasn’t sure how to respond. To his relief, he was spared from needing to reply when a new student came up to the bar and asked for a mug. The morning rush had just started. By the time that the rush subsided and Jeb had a moment to himself, Margaret had finished her drink and left. Jeb took her mug and put it in the pile to be cleaned.

The first few weeks had been filled with a lot of behind the scene work that the three needed to do to set up a bar and keep it running. As they started to get ahead, though, Declan started to make Enchantments which would automate the less pleasant parts of the process. Cleaning the mugs was one of those tasks. Jeb set the Enchantment to begin cleaning and went to his first class of the day.

That night, as Declan, Catherine, and he were meeting to discuss how the business was running, Catherine asked Jeb a question that he had not been expecting.

“Jeb,” she began, “how do you want your money to be paid to you?”

Jeb grimaced. “Honestly, I don’t really know.” He shrugged. “Dean Aquam has been in charge of my finances since I came to the Academy. I suppose giving it to him makes as much sense as anything else.”

Catherine looked hesitant, but nodded. “I do not believe that I have been introduced to Dean Aquam. Would you introduce us?”

“Sure!” Jeb said happily, trying to remember if he had ever seen the two in the same room. Unable to remember a time that he had, he thought about the next time that he was likely to see the Dean. “We could meet at breakfast tomorrow?”

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

Seeing Catherine nod, he continued, “I think that he’s usually there around third bell. See you then!”

Catherine took a deep breath and sighed. “I suppose I will see you then.” The rest of the meeting proceeded with no major developments. After confirming that they were still well ahead on stock, Jeb decided not to Brew another batch that night. Instead, he made his way to his room, picked up his lute, and played himself to sleep. The next morning, he rose and met Catherine in the cafeteria. She was blearily rubbing her eyes, clearly trying her hardest to wake up. After grabbing a plate for each of them, Jeb sat down and waited for the Dean to arrive. To his relief, the Dean showed up in just a few minutes. He noticed Jeb’s intense gaze and walked over to the table he and Catherine were sitting at.

“Good morning,” he said, nodding at the two students.

“Good morning Dean Aquam!” Jeb said. The table fell into silence.

After a few moments, Dean Aquam prompted, “and who is your companion this morning?”

“This is Catherine,” Jeb said. “We met in the Intermediate Lute Course.”

“Good morning, Dean,” she replied with a slight bow.

“Good morning Catherine,” he replied. Turning back to Jeb, he continued, “is there a topic you wish to discuss this morning, or did you simply want to say good morning?”

“There’s a topic!” Jeb replied happily. “If I came into money, what would be the best way of transferring it into my account?”

“If you had the money sent to the Academy in your name, it would be recorded properly.”

“Thank you!” Jeb replied, nodding. “Does that work, Catherine?”

She nodded hesitantly.

“Out of curiosity,” Dean Aquam continued, “where did these funds come from?”

Catherine looked at Jeb, clearly urging him to remain silent.

“I’m not entirely sure if there is any money right now,” Jeb replied somewhat honestly. Something about the Dean’s tone warned him that being totally transparent might be a mistake. “I do know that some students take on work that is tangentially related to their studies, however. It seemed prudent to get ahead of that.” He had learned a lot of gossip since starting the Emporium. People would spill their hearts to their neighbor, completely forgetting that Jeb was standing a few feet away.

Dean Aquam looked skeptical but did not press the topic. After a few minutes, he finished his broth and left, wishing the two students a good day. Once he was out of the cafeteria, Jeb turned to Catherine.

“So you just have to send the money to the Academy,” he said. “That seems easy enough.”

Catherine just stared at him.

“Is something wrong?” Jeb asked.

“Is that how you normally speak to the Dean?” she asked.

“More or less,” Jeb confirmed. “Why?”

She shook her head. “No reason. And yes, it will not be difficult to send money to the Academy in your name.”

The two finished their meals and went about their day. After that night’s debrief, Jeb saw that he was running low on Firebeer, and went to go Brew another barrel. When he started brewing, he noticed that he was running low on barley again.

Wow, I’ve really gone through a lot of beer this term, he thought. After Brewing the barrel, he went back to the Stacks, where he wrote a letter to Dean Aquam.

As Margaret had been trying to help Philip develop his Class Skill, she had encouraged him to read up on the way that the Intra-Academy Mail System worked. Jeb had been curious, and the two had spent some time reading up on the subject. Even though Jeb still had no idea how it worked, he was much more confident in his ability to send a letter to anyone in the Academy. He penned a quick note asking Dean Aquam for more barley, then went back to his room to sleep.

In the morning, Jeb saw that there was a note in his doorway. It was from the Dean, and it asked where all the barley he had received was going. Frowning, Jeb quickly penned a reply that he was Brewing with it and made his way through the day. That evening as he ate a quick supper, he saw Dean Aquam, who waved him over.

“Good evening, Jeb,” he said, tone somewhat aloof.

“Good evening, Dean Aquam,” Jeb replied, sitting down with his food.

“I am a little surprised at how quickly you are going through the barley. Would you mind showing me where it’s all going?”

“Not at all!” Jeb replied happily. He quickly ate his meal, noting that the Dean’s bowl of broth was already almost empty. When they had both finished, Jeb led the Dean to his plot of land.

“So this is the latest barrel of Firebeer I made,” Jeb explained pointing to the barrel.

“How much barley does it take to make a barrel of Firebeer?”

Jeb shrugged. “I suppose that it would really depend on the recipe.” He explained how much malt the barrels he made used, and the Dean nodded.

“If that is the case, then where are the rest of the barrels that you have Brewed?”

“I do reuse the barrels when they are empty,” Jeb explained, which didn’t seem to help the Dean’s mood. “But the rest of the barrels are in the Emporium. I can show you there, if you would like.”

Dean Aquam gave a hesitant nod. When they entered the Emporium, all the lively conversation stopped. Unlike when Margaret had come in, though, no one resumed speaking.

“Jeb, what is this?” the Dean asked, gesturing at the room.

Jeb pointed to the sign.

“What is ‘Jeb’s Fine Firebeer Emporium’?”

Jeb gestured to the room.

Dean Aquam sighed, cradling his face in his hands. “I feel as though I need to ask, much as I am loathe to do so. Jeb, are you selling Firebeer to students?”

Jeb bobbed his head, debating how to answer. “Catherine and Declan are in charge of the actual selling. I just pour the Firebeer.”

Dean Aquam let out a long breath. “You cannot operate a bar on Academy grounds.” There was a finality to that statement, and Jeb noticed the room quickly clear of students.

“I will not force you to dispose of the Firebeer, especially since I was the one who proposed that you Brew it in the first place.” With that, the Dean left the room, leaving Jeb alone in what had just moments before been a jolly space filled with happy conversations.