His shoes clattering on the paving stones, Charles ran through the main gates of Oxford College and headed towards the kitchens. He burst in through the door, searching between plumes of steam and stacks of silver chargers. More than one daemon, trotting alongside their humans, growled at Maaike and she hissed in return.

"Where's Raven?" he shouted at the room.

"Clear out, Charles! We're busy here!"

"You en't seen Raven?" he yelled towards Mrs. Lonsdale, the housekeeper, which was a mistake. A nearby under-chef smacked his head with her wooden spoon for his impertinence. He glared at her, rubbing the back of his head. "Raven's been gone all day. En't you worried?"

The under-chef worked furiously, never taking her eyes off of the bubbling pots under her command. "Charles, boy, you better unnerstand that we's all working 'ere. There's a hunnert places Raven might be. I en't got time to leave this en go lookin' for her. You shouldn' be spending yer time thinking 'bout her. Now get out and let us finish the dinner!"

Charles drew breath to yell again, but was stopped by Bertie, the pastry cook. Bertie took his arm with one hand, and slipped a cream eclair into Charles' hand with the other. "Come on, you're upsetting people. Go outside, now."

Charles held up the pastry, cream seeping out where his fingers dug in. "I en't a baby! You can't put me off with a sweet, Bertie!"

Bertie sighed as his daemon growled low under her breath. "It's all I got, and you better be grateful nobody's called a Scholar to deal with you yet. Raven's about. She'll probably walk in here soon as you're outside, but outside you're going, Charles, and right now."

Charles allowed himself to be propelled out the kitchen doors, Maaike following, her ears flattened in anger.

xxx

Charles was sulking out by the courtyard fountain when he heard his name being shouted down from a window. "Oy! Charles!" It was Abbott, one of the Sub-Rector's assistants. "You're to come in straightaway."

"But I en't done nothing!" Charles yelled back.

"President's study, tea, half-five," Abbott shouted in reply. He smiled as Charles turned quickly to check the large clock: it was already twenty past. "Better leg it."

Charles jumped up and splashed his hands in the fountain, using the water to give his face and hands a quick scrub as he ran. The President's study, naturally, was at the top of one of the buildings where the view was best. His side burned and his legs complained as he pounded up the stairs. Skidding onto the top landing, he reached for Maaike and held her against him as they both struggled to catch their breath. He allowed them both to rest until he heard the clock chime the half-hour, and then he let Maaike down and they both stepped out of the stairwell into the President's outer office.

The floors were dark wood, polished to a shine and covered by deep maroon carpets. Paintings of former Presidents and their daemons were displayed on the walls at intervals. It was tradition for the sitting President to have a nameplate, but no portrait; Charles wondered if the President ever came out to examine his empty place and wonder how much longer it would be before he too became a face on the wall.

The study door was slightly ajar. Charles blinked; normally the door was always closed, and the Secretary or another underling would have made Charles wait for a suitable interval. With no one else about, he stepped to the door and knocked quietly.

The President's voice rumbled gently from inside the room. "Come in, Charles."

Charles touched the door and it swung open silently on well-oiled hinges. The President wasn't sitting behind his desk, but instead was sitting in one of the armchairs beside the fireplace, with tea set out on a table in front of him. The creases in his elderly face deepened as he smiled up at Charles. "Have a seat, my boy."

Charles obeyed, moving to the armchair and sitting down carefully, making sure his back stayed straight and his feet were flat on the floor. The President's daemon was perched on his shoulder, regarding Charles with dark, hooded eyes. Maaike respectfully tucked herself behind Charles legs.

"Tea, Charles?" The President asked, picking up the teapot himself. Charles tried to keep the surprise off of his face. "Thank you, Sir."

The older man busied himself with teapot and silver spoon, his movements surprisingly experienced for one of such a revered status. "I have been meaning to have a talk with you for some time, Charles, about your future here. You know that we have been happy to teach you; you have a superior mind and have always put forth the best effort in your studies. It hasn't always been easy for you to obey us, but we have always been very fond of you."

Despite his effort, surprise did color Charles' face at that statement, delivered with genuine affection. The President smiled again. "Oh, yes. There is a great deal of goodness in your nature, Charles, as well as courage. You suffered greatly with the death of your parents, as any child would. Not every child, however, would face it with such fortitude and determination." He offered Charles a teacup, indicating that Charles should also help himself to the milk, sugar, and lemon also displayed. Charles simply took the offered cup and ignored the milk and sugar he loved.

"I am glad you have such strength of character," the President went on, "because you will certainly need it as you go forward. We have taught you many things here at Oxford, and from an intellectual standpoint you are the match of any of the Scholar candidates here. But you are about to graduate, and there are things you need to learn that cannot be taught in the classroom."

Charles simply stared, the tea cooling in his hand. How did the President know what he was feeling?

"Sir...are you going to send me away?"

"You might think of it as an apprenticeship. We should be glad to welcome you into the Scholar's candidates when you are eighteen, but you need to have experience in the outside world before then. If you agree, I have received an offer that will allow you to gain such experience. It is farther away than I would like, I admit, but the opportunity is an excellent one."

Excitement mixed with fear roiled in Charles' stomach. This morning, before Pietro, he wouldn't have thought twice about the opportunity to get away from Oxford and see the world. Now, for the first time, he realized that the world outside held corners that were more sinister than he had encountered before.

"Tell me what you're thinking, Charles," the aged man said kindly.

"Sir...may I ask...with whom would this apprenticeship be served?"

"You met him a few weeks ago, Charles. Lord Sebastian Shaw."

Charles was stunned. "Really, sir?"

"Would you like that?"

"Yes! I mean, yes, Sir, I would."

"Well, then." The President sat back, his face a little more serious than one might have expected after reaching such an agreement. "Let's bring him in to discuss it, shall we?"

Charles' eyes widened even further as the President touched the bell to one side. A moment later, his footman was at the door. "Lord Shaw, Sir."

Charles jumped to his feet, miraculously avoiding spilling his tea. Lord Shaw was there, wearing a suit that was more understated but no less elegant than the evening attire Charles had seen him wearing at the dinner. His snake daemon was curled over his shoulder. Shaw bowed slightly towards the President. "Sir, I hope this means good news."

"As you say, Lord Shaw," he replied. "Young Charles has agreed to work with you on this apprenticeship."

"Exceptional." Shaw turned his gaze on Charles. "I hope you realize it will be quite a bit of work, Charles."

"I don't mind, sir," he said a bit breathlessly. "I can work, I can do whatever you need."

"You'll mostly be assisting me with keeping my papers in order and doing some basic calculations."

"I can do that, sir."

"We may be traveling quite a bit."

"I don't mind, sir."

"It could be a bit dangerous, you understand. We may go to the North, or other areas that are...less than civilized. It won't be like Oxford."

"That's wonderful!" Charles burst out, before realizing what he had said and turning to the President. "I mean - forgive me, Sir, I didn't mean - "

The old gentleman laughed. "I understand, Charles, it's quite exciting." He rose to his feet as well. "Since we are agreed, Charles, I suggest you go to your dinner and then have an early night. You and Lord Shaw will be leaving on the dawn zeppelin. I'll send orders for your things to be packed for you. Run along now."

Charles placed his teacup back on the small table, then turned again to Lord Shaw. "Goodnight, sir, and thank you."

"Goodnight, Charles. I'll see you at breakfast."

Charles was at the doorway before he remembered who was responsible for all this, and he turned back to the President in embarrassment. "I beg your pardon, Sir. Thank you for this opportunity."

"You are welcome, my boy."

Once Charles had exited the outer office, Maaike jumped into his arms and nipped his chin with excitement. "Can you believe it?" she whispered.

"The North!" he said incredulously. "I never thought we'd get to travel there, Maaike, I never did!"

"And he said other places too, maybe. It's just what you hoped for!"

"I know!" He was off running again, this time to his rooms, as fast as he could possibly go. He and Maaike brushed past more than one servant and a Scholar or two, leaving shouts and the squawk of a daemon behind him. He reached his room, tore inside and slammed the door, then went straight for the window, flinging it upwards as fast as he dared. He climbed out onto the roof, Maaike behind him, and only then did he let out a shout of joy, startling a few birds upwards into the evening sky.