Rogers Oxford
The day of the big party, Roger had been detailed to wash the floor.
Again.
By himself.
Except he was never truly by himself, of course. His twin heart, the extension of himself, his beloved dæmon was always there beside him. Sharing his feelings, his thoughts and always having an opinion, Salcilia was always there for him.
Roger paused in his work as he looked at her, a beautiful swallow tail butterfly, bigger than most, fluttering in the air so as to not mess up the floor.
"What?" she inquired.
Roger shrugged and went back to work. "Just thinkin'," he said.
"'Bout them Gobblers?" his dæmon asked disapprovingly.
Roger nodded. "What if they took us? Lyra said they take dæmons away. If we was took… well… we're just a small boy and his dæmon in the kitchens. No one'd notice us 'til it was too late, I'll bet. We en't a powerful couple."
Salcilia shook her head. "Roger, don't talk like that. Lyra would be on our tail the moment we was took. She'd have all the townies and gyptains and Scholars and bickburners and servants all out lookin' fer us. Them Gobblers wouldn't even make it out of Oxford."
Salcilia momentarily turned into a cat and pressed her beating heart to his.
"I hope we see Lyra," Roger laughed. "She's goin' to this party. A Scholar party it is, too. Prolly got her all dressed up."
The boys' dæmon turned back to a butterfly. "Get back to work," she scolded playfully. "The faster we work, the faster we can join in Lyra's new war."
Roger smiled and began scrubbing the floors with a new fervor.
He didn't seem to notice the pretty lady with the golden monkey dæmon watching him in the doorway.
Salilia changed into a small otter and flipped into the bucket of soapy water, flinging some on the floor for her human.
Roger laughed at the grand display his dæmon was putting on but stopped when he heard a pretty, sing-song giggle mixed in with his.
He looked over his shoulder and rapidly stood up to face the new comer. When he was facing her, Roger went into a low, awkward bow as he had been instructed.
"Hullo, Missus. Do you need anything?"
The lady shook her head slightly from side to side and her shiny yellow curls bounced. "No, I just was wondering if you liked chocolatl?" she asked in a musical voice.
Roger nodded once. "Yes, Missus. But I need to get this large room cleaned before the Masters party. If you don't need anything, can I get back?"
She frowned slightly and Roger could have beaten himself up; he had displeased her!
"What's your name?"
"I'm called Roger, Missus," he said quickly.
"Well, Roger, I'd really like you to join me."
Roger looked down at Salcilia to ask her what she thought, but to his immense shock, she wasn't there. In a panic, he looked quickly around for her and found her flying to the monkey dæmon.
He put out a horny hand and she landed on it, immediately turning to a small mouse.
The golden monkey began stroking her and Roger felt oddly calm and reassured. "Yeah, I'll go with you if you want me to," he said, his mind on what her dæmon was doing to his.
"Grand," she said. If Roger had been paying attention, he might have noticed the snarl in her voice.
The beautiful woman took Rogers' hand.
"Hey!" he said suddenly as they walked toward the door. "You remind me of someone I know."
"Do I?" she said politely, her dæmon still petting Salcilia.
"Yeah," Roger said, enraptured. "I don't really know who."
"Ah," the lady said as they walked out of Jordan College.
"Where are we going?" Roger asked as they approached a big white van.
But the lady didn't answer. All she did was tighten her grip on his hand as her dæmon grabbed Salcilia even tighter.
Then a thought struck him painfully.
"Lyra!" Roger screamed at the top of his voice. "Lyra, help me! It's the-"
But at that moment, Roger was struck from behind and he caught the last glimpse of his Oxford that he would see.