Cliff was charging into homeroom, bearing a dark banner with the Ilvermorny crest. He found the nearest group of his classmates still standing around in their fancy dinner attire and planted himself proudly right outside their midst.
In no time at all, they'd noticed that he clearly had something better to say, and they all swarmed him... they were listening to him tell them about all the magic he was doing... they thought he was so cool... and even Bette decided that she really did think of him as a friend... her best friend, even...
Taz burst in, riding a woolly mammoth with a sour look on its face and swung Cliff up behind him by the banner. They were gearing up to stomp on a bunch of yellow traffic cones that were trying to prevent Cliff from leaving when his vision got uncomfortably bright.
His Dad was staring down at him. Cliff flexed his fingers, and when he found them empty, it was like lightning surged through him. He was sitting upright, looking frantically over at his closet. The blazer hung there, buttons done back up in a way that could only mean he'd returned the picture to its pocket before he fell asleep.
"Good morning," His Dad said.
"Morning," Cliff mumbled. He expected to be blinded by the morning sun, but saw that it was only just now turning gray out, and with the panic of the picture having passed, his body started aching all over with the exhausting of all the running and walking from yesterday.
Under his nose, his Dad held up a SmarTrip card. "For you. There's a hundred twenty dollars on here."
"A hundred twenty...?"
He also dropped a thick stack of printouts and the family cellphone into his lap with a full charge on it.
"In half an hour, the six AM bus out front leaves. An on it will be an upcoming first grader at Ilvermorny, following that itinerary to the Woolworth Building."
"A first year," Cliff corrected, before catching the much more important detail. "We're going?" Cliff got up, kneeling on his blankets, new energy and much more powerfully, shiny hope welling deep inside him. "This isn't a dream?"
"You're going. I cannot miss my work thing."
Cliff felt stupid for the momentary excitement, but that disappointment was quickly overshadowed by a crawling feeling. "B-By myself?" It was one thing to travel by car with one of his classmates within walking distance of home (for a certain value of 'walking distance', as the pain in his legs was constantly reminding him) but the farthest Cliff had ever gone was to Wolfing and back, and that was just a little over an hour in the morning one way and an hour and a half back on the return trip through DC traffic.
"That's what these are for." His Dad spread his hands over the papers and phone. "You're going to call me every twenty minutes. If the phone fails for any reason or gets lost or stolen off you, go to the nearest grocery store and call me from there and I'll come get you. The papers have the entire route printed out in case you need to reference it and you're underground with no wifi or the like."
"Thank you!" Cliff squeezed his Dad in as tight a hug as he could. "Thank you, thank you! I love you, Dad!"
He showered and dressed as magically as he could, copying Taz's heavy weather look with a beanie, his Wolfing issue sweater, pajama sweats and loafers, with the alterntative being sneakers.
His Dad raised his eyebrows when they met in the kitchen, his Dad already waiting in the threshold of the door. "It's gonna be ninety over in NY today."
"This is what wizards wear. Taz wasn't even breaking a sweat," Cliff said, leading the way out the door and to the elevator.
"I see. Well, if it's what wizards wear." Once he'd hit the button for the lobby, his dad slung a second, faded workbag off his shoulder that Cliff hadn't realized he was wearing and handed it to him, along with the phone. "The papers are in there. And I've got one more thing for you."
"There's mo-? Ohhh..." He flashed Cliff a thin roll of bills and stuffed them into a side pocket of the bag, zipping it up as hard he could.
"It's seventy dollars. For use in emergencies only. I've loaded you up on haupia-"
"Coconut bars," Cliff said automatically.
His Dad smiled apologetically as the exited the lobby and hit the brisk morning air. "Right. Those other batches you made may not have been quite as good-" they carefully stepped around the wreckage that Cliff had somehow made appear last night "-but they were far from unappetizing. So you've got coconut bars galore in there and baggies of ice to keep them in perfect shape. Shouldn't be any need to spend money on snacks and once the ice melts you'll have plenty to drink."
His Dad cast a look down the road once they were at the bus stop, and Cliff could see there were incredible dark bags under his eyes. The printouts, the card, the planning, the money. Their home was a lot of things but full of those kinds of amenities was not one of them. Cliff was sure that his Dad hadn't been to sleep since their conversation last night.
On the opposite side of the street, a bus came and went. "Isn't that the one you usually get on Dad?"
"Yes, it is. But there'll be another, and I want to make sure you get on yours."
Cliff couldn't help beaming at hearing that. And in no time at all, another bus had pulled up. He waved his Dad goodbye, but could have sworn as it pulled off that he saw an orange dot among the green foliage of 2 Silverspiers Manor. He tried not to think about it as he settled in for his trip.
Though, "trip" didn't quite capture it. After riding the D6 for two stops more than he meant to and having to catch it back the other way, then exiting the red line three stops too soon and getting turned around more than a few times near the World Trade Center, his seven hour journey finally concluded with him standing on the the street opposite the Woolworth Building.
It was a soaring tower of piercing gray brick and dark rustic windows, looking right at home among the historic skyscrapers of New York city. Next to him, someone took a picture of it.
Cliff hung up from the latest update with his Dad, who was beside himself with panic at all the delays, but agreed to give him a little more time for the fifth time. He waited for a break in the traffic and crossed the road, taking the giant polished concrete steps out front as quickly as he could. A throng of adults in button up shirts and boat shoes were pouring out of a brownish golden set of revolving doors, with WOOLWORTH BUILDING above them in lettering of the same color. A guard brought up the rear, waving them goodbye. Cliff tried to go around him to get in when an arm appeared in front his nose, barring him.
"Whoa, there," the security guard said. He was an unkempt white man drowning in a too-big uniform adorned with a nametag that said "Volpes", and there was only a trace of a grin on his badly-shaven face. "Can't you read?" He pointed at a sign that was the same coppery-gold as the doors. Cliff's heart sank: NO TOURISTS BEYOND THIS POINT was written on it with a website where you could sign up for said tour written underneath. "Building's closed."
"Please," he said quickly to the guard. "I just need to talk to someone about an owl." It was so close. Through the glass of the door, he could see the lobby with its floor of brown and gray stone and marble walls shooting up out of sight, all trimmed with golden accents that highlighted its architecture.
"There's a homeless shelter less than fifteen minutes thataway," the guard jabbed his nightstick down the road.
"I'm not unhoused," Cliff said.
"Then look for twelve. They don't pay me enough to deal wit' runaways."
"I'm not a runaway, either!"
"Okay. You're not on the street, you're not an unaccompanied minor, and you're damn sure not a tourist. I don't care whatcha are as long as you are GONE." He clenched Cliff hard on the shoulder and spun him around. Cliff was certain the only thing saving him from being thrown clear into the road were the curious glances some of the passersby threw their way.
"I'm a wizard!" He shouted at the guard, scrambling back up to him. "I have to send an owl to Ilvermorny and this is the only place I know where I can do that! I just need someone's help, please!"
The guard pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's twenty twenty-four. Aren't you brats all about mental health and whatnot? If you're suffering from delusions-"
"It's NOT a delusion!" Cliff could feel desperation clawing at him like a chill up his spine. Someone had to know what he was talking about - what he saw last night was REAL and if he didn't tell them he very much wanted to go learn magic instead of be shunned at Wolfing he'd never get to! "And I can prove it!"
Cliff pulled his Ilvermorny envelope out of his pocket. At the unimpressed scowl of the guard, he balled it up and sent it sailing right between a drain and its grate. Cliff pulled the same envelope back out of his pocket and repeated the process over and over and over again. "Does this look like a delusion? How do you explain it? I'll show this to everyone until-"
His shoulder was nearly crushed in the guard's grip. "Yeah, Ilvermorny, that's ringing a bell. Come wit' me."
The guard didn't wait for a reply. Cliff wasn't so much as dragged as snatched through the front doors, and thrown onto the stony-looking linoleum as soon as they were through. Sharp pain shot from where he landed on his elbow all the way through his body.
"What are you doing?" Another male voice groaned.
"Oh shut up," the guard, Volpes, said. Cliff forced his eyes open through the pain just soon enough to see Volpes thrust what was clearly a wand straight out over Cliff's head: "Obliviate!"
There was the sound of something heavy and metal smacking against wood. Cliff angled his neck and could see an arm and a leg, unmoving, hanging outside the walk-in of the circular desk at the center of the room. "Wh-What are you-"
"Can't stand you No-majes. Another month and Waitrose'll have you all outta my hair permanently. Anywhoo,"-he thrust his wand at Cliff- "Accio Gordian knot!"
'Wait!" Cliff flinched. But no new pain came. But whatever that meant, the look on the guard's face only soured.
"You little liar," he snarled.
"I'm not-"
"You are! And a stupid one at that! Let me clue you in before I get you permanently out of my hair. All genuine Ilvermorny letters of acceptance come with a Gordian Knot." He let out an ugly, triumphant laugh. "You wouldn't've got very far without one!"
He slid the letter two inches out of the envelope, and tossed it to the ground with a shrug. "Reads like the genuine article, I'll give whoever set you up for this that much. Things must be easier to come by than greed on a goblin. Tituba's toil, I don't want to have to bring this to that silver spoon McCade, but if there's a leak-"
"A leak?" Cliff cut his eyes from the guard to his letter, now lying unmagically on the floor. "It's real! It proves I'm one of you!"
"You're 'Cliff Noa,' then? Your name's on the letter, but you wouldn't be the first jumped-up No-Maj to come screaming in here about wizards. So no, I think I'll do you the favor of going back to living pretty out there with them." He pointed his wand directly at Cliff. "Obliv-!"
"Cosimo!"
Behind him, the doos were flung open, with someone else heading full tilt towards them. In no time at all, a woman with golden brown skin had stuck herself between them, finger raised. Cliff had to inch his way around the fiery red hem of her deep blue robes to see the guard.
"Step aside Ivy," the security guard said.
"WHAT are you doing? Barriman is completely knocked out and you're here ready to strike over a tiny child? Must come so easy to you Second Scourers!"
"Don't call me that," he growled.
"Then don't act like it!" She roared back. "Now why are you attacking him."
"You must have lost your mind," he said, disbelief on his face. "I'm doing my job, unlike you. I've decided this trespasser needs to get out of here so that's what's gonna-don't ignore me!"
"Thanks," Cliff said once she'd helped him to his feet. Her apologetic smile became a thin frown at the way he held his shoulder.
"Fix him. Now." She said, turning to Volpes.
He crossed his arms. "You do it."
"How about neither of us do it. I'm sure Claiborne would love-"
"AWRIGHT awright, you stupid Snidget." She moved her body only slightly out of the way, and Cliff felt worry throb through him as the wand was trained on him a second time. "Episkey."
"OW!" There was a painful jerk in Cliff's shoulder, and though it hurt for a few moments, afterwards it rapidly began returning to 100%.
"Happy?"
"I can't believe it," the woman, Ivy, said, throwing a venomous look at Volpes. "Dislocating his shoulder because you wanted to enjoy ten more minutes of your lunch break?" She turned her back on Volpes and leveled with Cliff. "I'm so sorry about him. I can't imagine how scary this must be, being attacked by grown wi-man and seeing people falling out all over the place. Any other day and this would have been a much simpler wipe of the memory-"
"What?" Cliff twisted out of her grip. "Wipe my memory?"
She smiled apologetically. "We can't very well let you leave knowing about magic, can we?"
"That's not fair! I'm a wizard!"
Her eyebows knit. Volpes was rolling his eyes and was flapping his hand together like a yapping mouth. "You're a wizard? Why on earth would... Cosimo!" She turned around and Cliff could see her head angle right to where the letter was sitting on the ground. She scooped it up, pulled the entire length out and began reading it in its entirety. Volpes looked unimpressed.
"Oh, Claiborne is gonna love to hear this," Ivy said.
When she was done, she grabbed Cliff by the hand and led them right past Volpes out the revolving doors. He came out, grinning at Ivy like they were walking headfirst into a lion's den, and turned off to a side door and headed through. Gently, she guided Cliff in behind him.
Gone was the fancy brown stone and trimmed marble of the lobby he'd been expecting to walk back into. Now, a glittery onyx-black stone floor, adorned with rich golden accents, ran fifty feet out ahead of them, with a wide flight of stairs leading up to another floor awaiting them. As they approached, the walls fell away, revealing covered halls that ran out to either side of them and ringed the building. Ascending the stairs, Cliff's jaw dropped when he looked over the railing. Yawning below were equally beautiful black-and-gold open-air floors, on which he saw one or two lone figures in robes moving back and forth, some with animals he didn't recognize accompanying them, a few with stacks of papers, most entering and exiting offices.
The flight of stairs turned out to be two, and on the landing between them sat a red, white and blue impression that was fifteen feet from end to end. it looked to be an eagle wreathed in golden flames with the American flag on its body and whatever stars couldn't fit printed near its head. Standing so close, Cliff had to walk around the floor to read the words printed on the rim: "Magical Congress of the United States of America."
"Also known much more simply as MACUSA," Ivy said. "Good thing it's so deserted on Sundays. Makes this easier." They got to what Cliff originally thought was the top floor, and indeed he could now see towering windowed walls evening sunlight streamed in through, but also a pair of elevators mirroring each other on left and right sections of the floor that shot up high into the air past where Cliff could see.
Also hanging in the air was a giant four-faced dial, like a clock, with the hand on it hovering between green, Moderate Threat, and Blue, High Alert. And past that, swaying slightly above a lounge area with only a single tiny person it, was a fifty fool tall banner of a heavy-lidded white woman with wavy black hair curling around her neck and an unapproachable grin on her face.
At least, Cliff thought it was a banner, until she faced away from the lobby to look out over some invisible horizon and the words, PRESIDENT CASSIOPEIA HARKNESS ticked along the bottom like a news headline. "This is where we part with Cosimo. He's off to have a nice little conversation with Claiborne before I have to."
"Yeah, about that. Hey, 'wizard', show her your Gordian Knot."
It felt like the temperature dropped fifty degrees. Cliff hoped Ivy would ignore that and just send him away, but she scoffed, "It's the same as it is every year."
"Yeah, I'm sure you'd be the expert. No, no I don't think I'll be taking my leave until you've seen it."
Something about the haughty look he was giving her must have caused her own scorn-filled expression to falter. She turned to Cliff.
"Is there something wrong with it? Did he damage it? Let me see please, Cliff." She held her hand out for it.
"I-I left it at home," he said after far too long of a silence.
"Hah!" Volpes shook his head. "Little too late for that story, eh? He don't got one, Ivy. That means his letter couldn't have-"
"I know what it means!" She snapped, looking colorful in the cheeks. This time when she took Cliff by the shoulders, her grip was much firmer "All Ilvermorny acceptance letters come with one. It would've been bundled right with yours, so I'm sure..."
There wasn't any point in lying. "I don't have one. But I don't get why it's so important! I can do magic, I-I fixed the taste of some food I made!"
"The brat can cook. Well that settles it." Volpes was smirking.
"It's other stuff, too! I've done other stuff!"
"Yeah, well, now that Ivy here forced me to bring a No-maj into MACUSA, it's no longer my call. In fact, I think it has been a bit too long since I've seen dear ol' Claiborne's delightful face. You're right Ivy, I'll go pay her a visit right now and tell her all about the afternoon I've had."
He headed to the nearest elevator and ducked inside it, still partly visible behind its upper half of diamond-shaped golden grills. He jabbed a finger at something Cliff couldn't see beneath the solid black of the bottom half, and in moments he was racing upwards.
"Cliff, listen to me," she said, sounding panicky. She pointed to a corner of the building on the floor they'd just come up from, with a big circular entryway in it. "Go there. Wait for me till I get back." Ivy then sped off to the other elevator, and Cliff took the steps back down two at a time.
A Gordian Knot? Cliff had assumed it was like a ticket he could buy. He passed office doors with flames that licked at him as they went, had to avoid a flock of paper airplanes darting through the air as if carried on an unfelt tailwind, and one tottering old woman in vibrant purple robes asked Cliff for a helping hand to get into her into a waiting elevator, but not before giving a little "Oop!" of surprise when she looked over his head.
At first, Cliff thought it was Volpes coming back with whoever Claiborne was, but instead it was just an old TV. It showed the black and white image of a different white lady with salt and pepper hair and a look in her eyes that was harder than stone.
"Right sentiment. Wrong place," the old woman said. She tapped the air with her wand; it was a picture, not a tv, and it rolled up into a tube. Shrinking, it arced into the woman's outstretched hand that was looped through Cliff's arm. She then let Cliff lead her to the elevator, where a tiny, wispy-haired, bobble-headed woman with giant eyes waited. The lady said, "Circular Center," and with an exchange of waves, she flew up out of sight.
Ignoring the giant scowl the banner of Cassiopeia Harkness was giving him, Cliff ran to his destination. Nestled right into where the north wall met the east, was a dim room. As he got closer, letters began writing themselves in bold script over top of the entrance, and the interior brightened as it did.
MACUSA GIFT SHOP was now proudly displaying itself, and Cliff half-forgot the dire situation he was in once he was inside.
The half-circle room was now soaring overhead, with rows of shelves ringing the cash register. On one were dozens of quill sets. Then there were finger-sized brooms that sped through the air and spinning crystal balls that all seemed to change to the same color if Cliff stared at any one of them long enough. More shelves were filled with colorful packaging, like a vibrant pink box that bragged about its Full-feeling filled Cremes, which had a tagline that even one of which could sate a troll's hunger. There were icy green baggies full of slender lengths of Mint Tinsel with snowflakes dancing above them, and a many-banded can of Pumpkin Sugar containing glittery orange pumpkin shaped pieces of melted sugar. And at the bottom, in great dusty piles, were books thrown on top of each other so haphazardly that Cliff had to right them as he read down, avoiding the many that had spikes or teeth or watched him back.
Qrazy About Quodpot... Wizardry in Brief... 101 Easy and Effective Hexes... Withering Wights...
Cliff paused. One of those sounded familiar. He tried not to be distracted by the drifting cyan vapors near the floor that were chilling his ankles and toes.
"How much is this book?" Cliff wondered, pulling Wizardry in Brief free from its stack on his third attempt, feeling proud of himself for avoiding a book beside it that tried to drip something murky and steaming onto him. On its back cover were several price tags, yellowing ones below pale. The most recent was handwritten and said "67 sprinks." A few others, some with tags, some with the price drawn onto the cover itself, were visible as well.
Hoping that wasn't expensive, Cliff took in the rest of the gift shop. In an alcove next to the entrance was a stack of brooms sticking out of a box labeled "Lost and Found".
"Abandoned" would have fit better. Most of them were in complete disrepair. Either cracked around the middle, or missing bristles. A pair even vibrated so violently the whole box shook, but a small amount had no defects that Cliff could identify on sight. A personal broomstick... and here were so many that were up for grabs... but wait, there was something else down there that was catching the light...
Cliff picked up a shiny gold tangle. He had to rip a few purple flowers off it, but on the back, this had a handwritten price drawn directly on it: "FREE."
"You DO have one!" Cliff almost leapt out of his skin. Ivy, now much sweatier and with several flyaway strands of hair under her pointed slightly askew hat. "You took about twenty-five years off my life!"
"What, this?" Cliff asked.
"Yes!" She said, irritated. She took a few deeps breaths and then went on, trying with obvious difficulty to keep the frustration out of her tone. "Cliff, that's a Gordian Knot."
"I think I'll be the judge of that," came Volpes' voice. He appeared at the open entrance to the gift shop, looking annoyed.
"Actually, I'll be the judge of that," said a familiar voice. A teenage white guy, having traded his gray mountaineering getup for purple robes, came up behind Volpes. Taz Bauer took one look at Cliff and stopped short.
"Hey, it's yooouuu with Claiborne?" Volpes looked at him like he was stupid, and Ivy was fanning herself, trying to calm down. Neither had noticed Taz's eyes bug out in silent warning when Cliff was about to greet him.
"Now, Cosimo, you said that Ivy had brought a No-maj onto the premises?"
Volpes bristled when Taz said his name. "She did. And make sure you put in your report that I tried to stop her. Was gonna obliviate him myself, even. Infractions like this are supposed to go straight to the top. To be handled by the adults," he added in a grumble.
"And something big has apparently just happened, so it was delegated to me. Now, what's your name?" Taz asked, stooping to Cliff's eye level. Cliff didn't believe Taz had forgotten him when they'd been talking less than eight hours ago, but he did believe he shouldn't bring that up. So for the second time in as many days he met Taz Bauer.
Taz read the letter, and made a show of holding his wand above it end-up, as if it were flashlight and could shine light on any imperfections.
"What's a sprink?" Cliff asked as Taz put on a show of investigating.
"Huh? Oh, right. No-majes use something else," Ivy said absently, watching Taz. "Collars and dents or something. Dragots and sprinks are wizarding money. We'll get your collars and dents exchanged once this is done.".
Taz folded the letter back up and nodded approvingly. Then, at Ivy's urging, Cliff held the Gordian Knot out to him.
"Now hold on one mandrake-picking moment!" Volpes said at the satisfied grin on Taz's face. "He must've stolen that from someone!"
Cliff inched away from the Lost and Found box. Luckily, Ivy stepped in on his behalf.
"He just didn't know what it looked like! Just because we all know what a Gordian Knot is practically from birth doesn't mean the same's true for No-majes!"
Volpes opened his mouth, but something in the air caught his eye. Two paper airplanes had glided in, one dark blue and one in glowing red, white and blue. Volpes reached out excitedly for the one in dark blue, but it swirled out of his reach like it had a mind of his own and joined the other in Taz's waiting palm.
"What are those?" Cliff asked.
"Overreactions," Taz answered, frowning as he checked the second one, after which he folded it back up and handed it to Ivy over Volpes' noises of indignation. "I've gotta jet. Ivy, please take this down to the Talk."
Ivy sputtered. "No offense sir, but my job-"
She stopped, since she was now talking to the empty space Taz left behind. She started to open it when Volpes stuck his wand out and a bright line ran up and down the fold. Cliff would've bet all the money in his pocket that even tearing at it wouldn't have unfolded the paper plane.
"For their eyes only, you know how it is." He said innocently. "And since we both you won't coming back anytime soon, I'll help out our new wizard friend with his money problems."
"There's no way I'm giving all my money!" Cliff said. He turned to Ivy, who was already moving to exit. "You have to help me! He's gonna steal everything I own."
"He won't," she said, much less confident than she was earlier when she was saving Cliff from having his memory erased.
"He will! Please, do it for me! Or tell me how!"
"You can't. Without a wand permit the goblins won't even so much as look at you."
"Chop chop, Ivy," Volpes said, buffing his wand against his uniform. "We don't want to miss taking that down to the Talk, now do we?"
She hesitated, then her eyes opened wide like she'd just had a sudden thought. "How many collars and dents do you have?"
"They're dollars and cents, good lord," Volpes muttered.
"Sixty-six dollars and three cents," Cliff said (he'd bought a snack that he hoped to give to that cat once he'd returned). He went to hand it to Ivy, who waved him off.
"You hear that? Sixty-six dollars and three cents. I'll find out from Cliff how much money he got back from you, and it better match up to the exchange rate on the sprink!"
Volpes did the same yapping motion with his fingers and snatched all the money out of Cliff's hands. Ivy went off after him, and Cliff could hear them going back and forth all the way until their shared elevator disappeared from view.
Cliff tried and failed to get the injustice of having just been robbed in broad daylight out of his mind. The brooms caught his eye, he had a much more immediate mission, what with the stacks of books on the bottom shelves. He went through them one by one, pushing them apart and to get to the ones in the back. Soon, his pile at the checkout grew from just Wizardry in Brief to include Foodchain Fantastica: From Foxgloves to Firedragons, Chadwick's Charms Volume 1 and, once he'd calmed down a book emitting faint crying sounds enough to get around it, A Plurality of Potions. Cliff traced his way back and forth through the lower shelves twice more before he'd concluded that no one must've considered his remaining two textbooks light enough reading to stock here.
He figured he'd give the box another try, and the brooms turned to be sitting on top of a pile of discarded or abandoned robes. Some wild colors like a sunrise and twinkling night, most of them jet black and a few silvery-gray, but, more importantly, plenty that were in the Ilvermorny colors of blue and cranberry.
Volpes would know where these had come from. But it's not Cliff was ever going to see him again. He started when the tiny old lady he'd helped out earlier bade him goodbye as she went on her way, but as he rummaged, none of the other few people, or things that looked like people, paid him any attention
In no time, he had three robes in a bunch at his ankles. Even on his second time scraping the bottom of the deep box, there weren't any hats. He did, however, find some gloves that felt pretty heavy duty, and hoped they were manticore leather (or something similar). Once he'd purchased his inkwell and quills, that was a third of the list down, and he kicked himself when he realized that nice old lady would definitely have known where to get the rest of it.
He heaped the clothes into his arms and threw them at the base of the checkout. He'd have to wash them when he got home for sure, and just by looking at them it was clear a lot of rolling was going to be involved in getting them to stay on right, but still-he had his robes now. Real, live, wizarding robes.
When Ivy still didn't return, Cliff's attention drifted to the brooms for the third time. Ignoring the obvious lost causes, he tested a few of the brooms and quickly realized he had no idea what he was looking for. One that seemed perfectly fine zoomed out of his grip and stuck itself right back into the Lost and Found box. Another one he got so far as swinging a leg over when it went it banked to the side, throwing him to the ground, and spun in circles like a spinning top. Cliff watched it for several minutes until it came to a rolling stop and immediately returned it to the box. The third one he dared to try snapped in two after only thirty glorious seconds of hovering in midair.
"Who could ever leave behind one of these?" Cliff said, rubbing his tailbone.
"They were right." Behind him, Volpes was reentering the gift shop, mouth agape. "I don't believe it. You're not some jumped-up No-maj after all." Scanning the books, quills, inkwells and clothes laying around. His robes jingled with every step she took. "Ransacked the place like one though. I was only gone five minutes."
Cliff scrambled to his feet. Volpes plucked a set of quills and an inkwell off the shelves and cleared a space near the cash register, spilling gray coins, many more white coins.
"You can relax. I wouldn't let a wizard get gobbed by those greedy little vermin at GG Morton's." He said, but he made no attempt to hide the smaller handful of coins from his other pocket that he now added to the ones he'd already placed on the desk. " Larger ones are Dragots, smaller ones are sprinks."
The larger gray ones were eight-sided and nearly as big as his palm, all with a "1" written on them. The smaller white ones were like bottle-caps of marble and all had "1" on them as well.
"What are you doing?" Cliff asked.
Volpes was prodding at the buttons on the register. Cliff couldn't believe he would try to steal so openly, but when the drawer popped open, he looked up at Cliff.
"Ringing you up. I'm not just gonna let you steal right out of MACUSA." Cliff was taken aback that he was being accused of being a thief before he could lob the accusation first. "Tituba's toil, how does she do this so fast. That'll be three Dragots, thirty-seven sprinks. I think. And you don't have anything to put all these leftovers in, so let's add one of these gift bags and a little treat for me as payment for all this effort I've gone to for you. Four Dragots even should cover it." He was now biting the leg off a squirming frog and Cliff was glad he hadn't had anything to eat in hours.
"That's still stealing," Cliff said. Volpes scoffed and pushed all the books and writing equipment towards him and and dragged four of Cliff's Dragots from the counter into his hand. Cliff wanted to protest, but he had no idea if he was being played. Volpes threw a giant canvas bag with a flaming MACUSA emblem on it at him, and, grudgingly, he began piling his new stuff in it. Volpes started leaving, and Cliff realized he was about to make the same mistake.
"Wait! I still need to do the thing I came here for! How do I reply with OSPS? And I don't have any more regular money, I can't just walk home. I need-" Cliff grimaced. "I need some of my money changed back."
To his surprise, Volpes actually stopped. "Those useless No-majes force that green paper nonsense on me out there and now I can't even escape it in here."
"What is that?"
"Dollars? Wouldn't you be the expert?"
"No, not that. A 'No-maj'. Ever since yesterday I've been hearing it constantly. What is it? What does it mean?"
"It isn't obvious?" He didn't even attempt to conceal the disgust in his voice. "No magic. Nonmagical. Can't-Spell. It's what we call them."
"So when you said you couldn't stand No-majes... and did that thing you did to Barriman..."
"About all that," Volpes became very interested in the empty open area of MACUSA, and even moreso in the paper airplane that fluttered in and found him. "That was completely hexed on my part. I dunno how you managed to not realize what a knot looks like, but when I almost robbed you of where you really belong. With us. Well, hey. I'm glad Ivy stepped in. And don't spare a second thought for Barriman, I just made him forget about our little episode."
He hadn't actually answered what Cliff was asking, but he came back in, took an envelope from underneath the counter and slid it over to Cliff. He waved his wand and a quill and inkwell popped out of Cliff's bag and rested next to it. He turned his attention to opening the paper airplane.
"Um, I've never addressed a letter before," Cliff said after staring at it for a minute. On Volpes' halting instruction, he reversed what was written in the center and the corner on his acceptance letter. Once he'd jotted everything out, he pulled out the signature slip, tucked it neatly inside and watched as it sealed itself. Cliff reached out to hand the envelope to Volpes and stopped short. Cliff had assumed that he was switching his attention between coaching Cliff and reading, but he was frowning, eyes knit, and fully focused on Cliff. "Is something wrong?"
"No," he said too quickly. "Don't worry about it."
"Is it the letter? Was it about me?"
"Uhhh yeah! It was, actually." Volpes actually let Cliff read it as he ushered him out of the gift shop and toward an elevator. It was from Ivy, and as much an apology to Cliff as it was multiple threats to Volpes. Stuck to it was a feather that was brittle white at its top and became richly black toward its base. "Thanks to her you'll be able to take the Frightrail."
"The frightrail?" Cliff reread the letter, and it was mentioned, but not actually described. He imagined one of those slow Halloween rides through somebody's cornfield. "I just came here to send that letter. It's gonna take me a while to get home, so I really shouldn't hang around longer. At this point, if you can tell me what I need to do next to actually get to Ilvermorny and change some of my money back-"
"Sounds like we're about to be able to catch two snipes with one net, then. And this way I don't need to throw myself on the mercy of those goblins."
"What do you mean? What exactly is the frightrail?" Cliff asked as the elevator arrived.
"Don't No-majes have something like that? The frightrail is a rail line that can take you anywhere in the country. Where are you going?"
"DC."
"Not too far at al. Eastbound means you'll be on the Pewter Thread." He pressed to call the elevator. The button-sized version of the MACUSA symbol grew larger as Volpes' finger approached it.
Speeding up from below, the elevator door opened with a tiny ding. Only one other pair of riders was inside, Cliff looked away as they exited, the way they were looking him and up and down was making him regret dressing the way he had just a little.
"Roof Access MACUSA Station." Volpes's commanded the elevator attendant as they boarded.
The attedant gave a grunt of acknowledgement and pulled the lever next to him. This attendant was taller than the tiny bobble-headed lady, but not by much. He had rough green skin, pointed ears, and sharp teeth, which didn't at all fit with its blue and white striped hate and red uniform.
"Never seen a goblin before, wand brat?" He growled under his breath at Cliff, who moved further away from him. But out loud, he said, "Keep any arms, legs and various appendages inside. Please and thank you."
They rose and rose through the air. To their right, the image of President Cassiopeia Harkness was now hanging her head, eyes closed. Cliff guessed the presidency must have been quite a burden. To the left, they rose above a central structure, pointed and held up by golden eagles that Cliff could have sworn was watching him back.
After they'd gone higher than even the paper airplanes were flying, when the floors below were smaller than Cliff's hand, the goblin attendant pumped the level and the elevator ground to a halt, passing several more windows before fully doing so. Cliff gripped the bars as they rose, and Volpes laughed at him.
"Roof Access MACUSA station," the goblin announced.
A breeze hit Cliff from the left. A slit of open sky had appeared, and, pushing the windows out of the way, it widened until the tops of skyscrapers and late-day clouds came into relief past it. Following Volpes, who moved toward it, Cliff found himself on a balcony fenced in with spiky railings that made him feel like he was on a medieval castle.
The attendant pulled the lever again and the rectangle of wall leading into MACUSA closed itself up, leaving just an exterior that matched the Woolworth Building's.
"Magic is amazing," Cliff said.
"If that's what you think after an hour in the MACUSA gift shop, Ilvermorny'll stop your heart." Volpes said. He pointed at the feather Ivy had sent Cliff. "Should be enough on here to get you home and to the Mooredwalk both."
"The Mooredwalk?" Cliff asked.
"You wanted to know how to get to Ilvermorny? This is how." He mimed sticking it in his hat, which Cliff copied. "We're at a station right now, but they wasted a ton of dragots expanding it, if you ask me. Just stand under a 'malfunctioning' streetlight, stick the feather on your head somewhere and give it a few moments."
Just as he said, before too long a stony gray line traced through the air a foot out from the rails, and not far behind it, a spherical shape that hadn't been anywhere in the sky before came swooping into view before stopping abruptly along it.
"Is it supposed to do something now?"
Volpes exhaled sharply through his nose. "How's it supposed to know where to go if you don't tell it?"
"Uh, DC." Cliff said to the sphere, which, upon closer inspection, was ribbed like a pumpkin. A section fell away from the top like it had been peeled, exposing a plush-looking purple interior and making a little gangway that the rail of the Woolworth Building sank into the floor to accommodate. He moved to board when Volpes made a sound of warning.
"Just 'DC' works, yes, but'll probably get you spat out on top of the Washington Monument. Be more specific."
"Then - two Silverpiers Manor."
Volpes made another sound, this one a lot more strangled, but when Cliff turned, he only got a hard stare back, even if his skin now looked a little clammier.
Hitching his bag onto his shoulder, Cliff gangled into frightrail car, mumbled a thanks to Volpes, and watched it reseal itself.