THEORETICAL

Charlie Bone and Fidelio Gunn raced toward the Cathedral.

"Frog Street—I can see it!" Charlie cheered, as they sprinted down the side walk. "Hurry up, Fido, I'll bet we're the last ones!"

"Well," Fidelio panted huffily, "we wouldn't be the last ones if you hadn't insisted on another plate of sausages, fatso!"

Charlie gasped in mock horror. "I am the fatso? Impossible. We call you 'Fido' for a reason, dog!"

"Who're you calling a dog?" Fidelio growled sarcastically.

"The way you gobble Maisie's meals, you deserve the title!" Charlie roared in reply, as the wind whipped his ears. "Pick up the pace; it's freezing!"

They rounded the corner to see Runner Bean darting towards them, his fur quivering in the cold.

"Now there's a dog," Fidelio grinned, with satisfaction. "Here, boy!"

"That's strange," Charlie murmured, as he absently combed Runner's fur with his fingers.

"What's strange?" Fidelio asked, tickling the hairy dog's ears with joy. Runner Bean barked with delight. "He seems happy enough. I wonder where Benjamin is."

"Did I forget to tell you?" Charlie asked, snapping back into the conversation. "The Browns are all off to Nebraska, for another case about poisoned fish and a burglar. Apparently, an international company owned the fish, and they've hired the Browns to solve the case. A great heap of money's involved, so Ben's parents couldn't turn it down. Just like the time they left for Hong Kong, Runner couldn't come."

"Is that what's strange?" Fidelio questioned, searching for clues on Charlie's impassive face. "Runner Bean without a Benjamin?"

"No," Charlie muttered softly, staring into the distance. "It's Tancred and Emma. Why aren't they inside, with the rest of the gang?"

Fidelio peered at the two figures, merely shadowy silhouettes in the cloudy darkness as evening began to settle in. "Let's go find out," he suggested, grabbing Runner Bean's lead. "They seem to be arguing."

But before they could approach the pair, the two blondes had already ducked inside the Pets' Café. Shrugging, Fidelio followed, with Runner in tow.

"What took you so long?" Lysander asked, his eyes narrowing with concern. Glancing quickly at Tancred, Lysander could read from his friend's hard expression that his discussion with Emma hadn't gone too well.

"Nothing," Tancred replied hastily, scowling as he slid into his seat. "We'll talk about it later."

"Sure," Lysander said reasonably, though he was aching to know. "What about you two?"

"Runner sidetracked us," Fidelio laughed, accepting a biscuit from a plate on the table. "Now, what's so important?"

"The Bloors," Charlie chirped instantly. "They're up to no good."

"Big surprise," Olivia muttered, rolling her eyes. "Any theories, Charlie?"

"No!" Lysander stood, his knuckles paling as they clenched the edge of the table. "We depend too much on theories. Where has that gotten us?"

Nobody answered. Nobody dared take a breath.

"It's gotten us into spots of trouble, that's where!" Lysander bellowed, causing and couple of newlyweds with their Doberman to slink out of the café in terror. "I don't yet know the problem, but we've got to plan this out. Have you noticed, from the moment we rescued Emma Tolly, our dilemmas have become worse with each term? Next were Henry Yewbeam, and then Ollie Sparks. After that, it brought us to a deserted island in the middle of the sea, where, without thinking, Charlie nearly got stuck in a mirror, and theoretically supposed Albert Tuccini was his father! If he'd lived on that theory, would Mr Pilgrim be Lyell Bone?"

Charlie could feel himself flushing. He realized now, how many mistakes he had made in the past.

"After the Castle of Mirrors, Charlie's mother was indecently bewitched. Count Harken Badlock was freed, and the battle was unfair. He was powerful, practiced, and everything we were not. Was it certain we would win?"

"No," Charlie said meekly, slumping in his seat.

"Exactly," Lysander said. He was breathing heavily now. "And then, Asa's rampage helped to calm things little. Now the Bloors are infuriated with losing their beastly spy—literally—and of course they're up to no good! If we leave this next problem to utter theory, the worst that could happen isn't detention, isn't suspension, isn't expulsion. Reality check, friends!"

"Lysander's right," Emma said, glaring pointedly at Tancred. "You can't leave anything to complete theory. Because theories are no more than false accusations!"

"Emma, I'm 99% sure of this," Tancred replied, returning her glare.

"That missing 1% helps my case."

Lysander looked from one to the other. "Tanc," he said calmly, laying a restive hand on Tancred's shoulder, "what's going on?"

Tancred merely shook himself from the African's grip, still glowering at Emma. "Emma, he's not good for you."

"Why?" Emma said fiercely; far too fiercely, in Charlie's opinion. Emma was angry—none of the group had ever really seen Emma angry.

"Because he's endowed!" Tancred shouted, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "He's endowed, Emma, I know it!"

"So you won't let me date a boy because he's endowed?" Emma said scornfully. "What if I were to date Fidelio? Or Gabriel? Or you? Oh wait, I CAN'T, BECAUSE YOU'RE ENDOWED. Sorry, Tancred, I completely forgot."

Tancred paused. She had hit home. He was being hypocritical, suggesting that she couldn't date a Child of the Red King.

"That's different," he managed to murmur. Emma smirked. "Do you like him that much?"

"I don't like Reid," Emma protested. "I love him."

Olivia was a colourful blur as she scrambled to her feet. "Emma!"

"It's my endowment, Liv," Emma explained testily, as she turned to face her best friend. "Manfred told me, after the Cast Exam. You're cursed with Love, were his words. The emotion weakens me, because—because I've grown vulnerable to love. So when I—feel—for someone, it strengthens me. I need it to live; it's just like Manfred said: love's a curse, when it's your endowment."

Everyone gasped. Tancred's eyes widened.

"So—you love Reid Rubix because he's there to feed you strength?"

Emma sighed exasperatedly. "Manfred also said I had the knowledge. I may be vulnerable, but I'm wise in the practice. I can get away with anything."

"Not with this, you can't," Tancred scoffed.

"I could love two people, and keep my feelings neutral. I could refuse to love another, and my conscience would remain solid, because I understand everything about love itself. Is that comprehensible?"

"It's a tad baffling," Lysander piped up, "but at least it's not theoretical."

"I was given this jolt, when I first met Reid," Emma continued. "I nearly fainted, but I grew stronger. I knew what it meant; Reid gave me my first feeling of love when we linked arms for the dance."

"It's his endowment," Tancred muttered darkly. "I'll bet—"

"THEORY," Lysander hurriedly interrupted, as loudly as he could. Mr Onimous, from the counter, gave a startled yelp as the African's baritone voice echoed around the small café.

"Wait, Sander," Emma said slowly, "I want to hear his theory. Go on, Tancred Torsson."

Tancred avoided Emma's enraged eyes, staring instead at the plate of biscuits on the table. Nobody had touched a single snack since Lysander's outburst.

"I think Reid—like Olivia—is hiding his endowment from the Bloor's," Tancred said. "Clearly, nobody else does."

"It's a theory, Tanc," Lysander reminded him. "No one's about to agree until the evidence is found."

"Whatever," Tancred muttered, disintegrating a biscuit into powdery, chocolate crumbs. Lysander noticed his knuckles had grown chalky white. "He could be a spy; using Emma to sneak a peek at our actions."

"That's very unlikely, Tanc," Fidelio piped confidently. "I doubt it."

"Oh, yeah?" Tancred began to flush. Charlie sensed danger.

"Cool it, Tanc," he whispered, munching innocently on a biscuit. "I think what Fido meant is that Reid doesn't seem like the spy type. And if he were a spy, Manfred would still have him placed in the King's Room. Look at Billy; he was a spy, and the Bloors didn't hide him."

"That's true," Tancred said uncertainly. Charlie recognized the doubt in his eyes.

"And Reid Rubix would never use me," Emma scowled.

Tancred nodded, again with reluctance. But Charlie noticed the absence of Tancred's movements. He was lost in thought, apparently.

Tancred mentally smote his forehead.

Of course Reid wasn't a spy, he mused angrily. Mentioning the absurd idea has only revealed your jealousy and lack of intelligence, moron.

And of course Reid Rubix would never use Emma to his advantage. Was there a single, sane skill he, Tancred Torsson, possessed—one that Reid Rubix did not? But surely, anyone who had Emma Tolly to themselves would be completely lost in their luck. Nobody would dare misuse such a beautiful girl.

Tancred glanced hastily at the inventor's daughter. She was talking; her dainty lips moving. But he couldn't hear a word. She was so pretty, with her faded vintage jeans, those large, bright eyes and her serene smile. More than anything, he wanted to reach out and stroke her hair: strawberry-blond, sleekly straight-ironed and warm to the touch. He distinctly recalled the first day he'd seen her as Emma Tolly.

It had been a party, on the longest night of the year, held at Ingledew's in honour of Emma's entrance into her new life. She had pulled her lush, blond hair into a ponytail, bobbing behind her as she skipped up to the stage. Her cheeks had regained their rosiness, and a large smile had played around her face.

Distantly, he was aware of a hand waving in front of his face. Charlie's concerned eyes swam into focus as he readjusted into the present. Reality check, Tancred, he told himself firmly.

"I—I'm fine," he managed to stutter.

"Well, I'm afraid I can't stay much longer," Fidelio huffed formally, already on his feet. "Felix's band will be performing at the Jubilant Jollies Auditorium, and now that I have the house to myself, my mother, and Pudding the cat, I can finally tune my violin."

Farewells were said, hugs were given and waves were exchanged.

"I've got to leave, too," Gabriel muttered. "My sisters and I are visiting our Uncle Webbo at seven o'clock. It's nearly six-thirty, and it'll take me all but a half hour to run home, fetch May and the others and down to Darkly Wynd."

"Your Uncle Webbo lives in Darkly Wynd?" Charlie asked, startled. He knew the place well; his three Great Aunts stayed at Numbers 13 and 13. Once, he'd chanced a risky trip down to the spooky, lightless aisle on a mere whim, and had glimpsed Yolanda Yewbeam assisting his Aunt Venetia to bewitch clothing.

"Yeah," Gabriel said, scowling as he accepted his gerbils from Emma and Tancred. "He's a right downer, Uncle Webbo is." He adjusted his voice into a fair imitation of his paunchy relative. "May will go far, that girl will. She'll make a hell of a witch, this little mite will. She has all the makings of an evil 'un, I can sense it in her. You should be proud, little brother."

"He thinks your sister should become a witch?" Charlie asked, stunned.

Gabriel nodded. "It's his theory, see? If a girl grows up cloistered, scolded and disobedient, a right witch she'll make."

"Theories!" Lysander spat. "I don't suppose you lot want to listen to these assumptions?"

With that, the tall African, Homer the parrot cawing loudly on his shoulder, stormed from the café.

"It's hardly our fault the word theory comes up so much in everyday conversation," Olivia frowned.

Tancred's mind spun. He recalled the evening Lysander had been trying to coax him up to bed. Matron will have begun her rounds.

He'd brought Reid Rubix into the argument, and it had resulted with Lysander tempting him to come to the Pets' Café on Saturday, due to the fact the African needed to tell Tancred something—something important.

"Sander!" Tancred yelled, leaping from his seat. He raced outdoors, where he found his best friend on the corner of Frog Street. "Sander! You said you had something to—to tell me?"

Lysander nodded grimly. "And this is no theory, Tanc."

"I never said it was."

Lysander's face broke into a wide grin. "I knew I could count on you, Tanc. Well, I know this will be a touchy topic, but it's about Reid Rubix."

Tancred clenched his jaw. "Go on."

"He could be endowed, and he might be a spy. But there's one thing I've neglected to tell you, all these years we've been friends."

"You mean, from the first day we met at Bloor's," Tancred corrected, his eyes blazing. "Was this neglect deliberate?"

"It wasn't deliberate," Lysander protested. "But it was for a purpose."

"On purpose, deliberate—no difference," Tancred growled.

"The point is," Lysander said loudly, taking care to drown Tancred's mutters, "that my spirit ancestors are summoned at will. They don't protect me, they don't help me. They're protecting and helping the Children of the Red King. When one of us gets involved, all of us are."

Tancred grunted.

Lysander continued, "So they watch out for all of the endowed. Lately, they've been keeping an eye on Emma."

"Emma? What?" Tancred was so startled, he forgot to scowl.

"I've been talking to them. They say that if Emma doesn't act now, all will be lost."

"What do you mean, act now?" Tancred glowered.

"I don't know," Lysander wailed. "They merely told me it was Emma's duty to act, and if she didn't take charge soon, all will be lost for the Children of the Red King. After this message, they sent me a mental image of Inez and Manfred, fighting in the dining hall."

"Why should we listen to your spirit ancestors?" Tancred scoffed.

"They're prophets, Tanc," Lysander implored. "Please, please promise me you won't brush off this warning."

Tancred's smirk widened. His face remained skeptical. "It's hardly a warning."

"Tanc!" Lysander roared, the begging no longer apparent. "Tanc, say you will!"

Tancred smiled. "No."

Lysander couldn't resist losing control. Why was Tancred being so difficult? "You want to live an independent life? Who are you, you cocky kid?" Lysander punched Tancred—smack—in the face.

He turned on his heel, Homer the parrot applauding silently with his wings.

Tancred, his nose bleeding, felt the daft grin leave his face. What was wrong with him?

Jacky - I seriously will admit, I lost my temper writing this.

You - I noticed. Especially by Lysander's theory outburst and Tancred's cockiness.

Jacky - Was it that obvious?

You - Yes.

Jacky - Oh, well. Review please! The feedback is welcome. More chapters coming soon.

I will update as much as possible this winterbreak, and I hope you will all read as much. : ) 3