Back in his room, Albanos flopped down on the bed, billowing countless dust motes in every direction. It was his room, and his bed, in the sense that they occupied the same physical space they always had, but all the component pieces were different. This was not the mattress he had spent sleepless days on during exams, or the table he had used as a makeshift barricade during a student riot over the cafeteria menu one year.
If there was any remnant of his younger days here, it was not the treasure the dishearteningly gullible students believed he had ill-advisedly stashed away, but more likely a disturbingly colored ham sandwich tucked behind a piece of furniture. Cleaning his freshman dorm out had required a shovel.
His thoughts turned to Elayna. The girl had been very good at guessing games, frighteningly good, but she was a know-it-all; too proud to realize when to stop providing information. All you had to do with people like her was look satisfactorily confused, and they'd just keep telling you everything they thought you already knew, just to prove they knew it, too. Now there was something about a spy in the forest to deal with, and a lot of concerned parents (the most feared creature in the school administrator's universe), and the faculty somehow feeling that being principal made you a target, which...
Another vague memory from his days as a pupil presented itself. It seemed to involve then-Principal Rillkin, a dangerous amount of itching powder, a few hours of hiding in a wardrobe after almost being caught, and a note tucked into the inner pocket of Rillkin's favorite coat which read, "If I were still here, you'd be dead by now. The itching's not so bad, right?"
Perhaps the faculty's view on the principal's job was not, after all, anything new. The rest was still troubling though. He'd known Portnoy had been holding out on him. He'd have to be sure to...mention this to him, tomorrow morning.
Albanos fished the rest of the papers out of the envelope Hagglit had handed him, now that he was finally alone. Ha! Fifteen years of exile, alone against the world and the wilderness, and within hours of returning, he was already complaining to himself about not having enough private time.
They were all administrative documents, it seemed. Not nearly as entertaining as the book of his life and, more or less, deeds. First off was a report on the faculty, what they taught, and how many students they liked to have in each class. He noted, with a twinge of anxiety, that none of the teachers he'd had were still around. With the departure of Hagglit, he would become the only fixture of his generation left in the place. He was feeling progressively older as this night wore on.
Next came a roster of the most influential parents and alumni who were, of course, to be kept happy at any cost. Then an inventory of what the cafeteria was capable of serving, with annotations beside each dish telling which poisons blended best into them so that the medical staff could have the proper antidotes ready. Food fights in a school such as this took on a new, quiet menace all their own.
The whole envelope was the height of mundanity. No mention of spies, no talk of the information network it was essential that each principal establish to stay ahead of people on the wrong end of the Academy's business deals, not even a list of their contract office agent names. Hagglit was going to make him do this all on his own. Fine by him. He was sure the process would be better for it.
The old assassin stopped and realized he was monologuing all of this in the affirmative, thinking of what he was going to do instead of what he could do. All evening he'd been trying to convince himself he hadn't made up his mind, that bolting and returning to his various hideouts throughout the frontiers between kingdoms was still an option. But all that traveling, all those fights with young kids just looking to make a name for themselves off his hide, they'd worn him thin. It was this or nothing, and he'd worked too hard and done too much to end up with the latter.
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Whatever lemon Portnoy Hagglit was selling -- and there had to be more of a catch in here somewhere -- he appeared to be buying. It was all he could do now. Besides, if there were a handful more students like Willam and Elayna, this might turn out to be something approximating fun.
With that in mind, Albanos K'hras curled up in a bed he was thirty years removed from and, for the first time in nearly half that span, nodded off smiling.
He also kept the crossbow out. Just in case.
The rest of the night passed uneventfully, another rare occurrence in Albanos' life. He'd been unable to sleep well. Years of making do with pine straw, dirt, hay, or comparatively soft rocks for his bed had left his body completely unsure of what to do with an honest mattress and pillow. He'd finally had to get down on the floor and pull out a desk drawer to lay his head on to feel at ease. He supposed he'd get re-acclimated eventually.
The first rays of light were starting to peek over the horizon when he shimmied down the wall outside his window, passing two startled student climbers on their way home to different floors with nothing more than a polite nod and a smile. He knew they'd write it off to the bad lighting, or too much drink, and if the Shadow had done good business last night the latter might not be all that far off.
The truth -- that the man from countless bounty posters had just clambered past them with a grin -- would be the absolute last thing they'd consider. Reality, as was so often the case, had been discredited outright. Albanos had always been fond of the way the human mind worked. It was his understanding of it that had kept him alive this long.
Working his way silently across the yard and through the main building, he finally came to Hagglit's office. In an uncharacteristically good mood, Albanos opted for a straightforward, old-fashioned knock, instead of going through all the trouble of sneaking in and scaring the man senseless again. It was like kicking a puppy anyway, not enough sport in it to make it fun. There was no response from within. He knocked again, more forcibly this time, and the door swung open a bit. Assassins and thieves everywhere have learned to interpret this as a sign of immediate, if not a bit cliché and unimaginative danger.
Albanos kicked the door the rest of the way open, feinted into the room going one way but quickly pivoted and rolled the opposite direction, coming up on one knee with his crossbow pointed at the center of the space, sweeping the door shut with his trailing leg. It was completely deserted. Completely. All the trappings of an office that had been there last night were gone. The pictures, the nameplate, the trophies, completely absent now. The place looked like it had never been lived in at all, except for the lingering smell of that hideous cologne Hagglit had been wearing his entire adult life. The only thing that remained was a piece of paper stuck to the desk with a dagger.
"Albanos,
Haha, I knew you'd come through for me. The place is yours now, and you will remain on the registry and out of everyone's crosshairs, or official crosshairs at least, so long as you perform your duties to the Academy, until such a time that you can prove yourself worthy of not being hunted regardless of your employment here.. Sorry I couldn't be here to see you in personally, but I've got a boat to catch. As for the minutia, the faculty can fill you in, and what they don't know, I'm sure a man of your talents can figure out.
Speaking of which, I left the senior staff members similar notes on my way out last night. I imagine they will discover these roughly the same time you're reading this. Expect some very surprised visitors shortly.
Best of luck. You will probably need it.
-Portnoy Hagglit"
As if on cue, there was a frantic pounding on the door behind him, accompanied by the jittery, agitated jingling of keys, and the sound of a hurried argument from the other side. Albanos rubbed his temples. Oh well, nothing left for it now.
"What kind of sick bastard takes the time to write 'Haha...'" he muttered, crumpling up the letter and tossing it onto the empty surface of the desk. With a sigh, he began heading for the door, and the first impromptu faculty meeting of the new school year at the Kelsai Academy for Thieves and Assassins Under Wolf.