“But . . . Sir Astin was surprised when I showed him the bottle of Quintessence.”
“Well, yes, because I never thought you’d bring it to Foxfire! Or carry it around in your satchel, letting it get shaken and jostled all day! It’s amazing you didn’t blow the school to pieces. That was when I learned to never make assumptions about what you’ll do. I’d foolishly figured you’d run straight to Alden. Just like I’d figured Mr. Dizznee would have you two wearing protective gloves—proper starlight bottling procedure. Instead you burned your hands and called for Elwin, and then you showed up to your session and plopped the bottle on the table. Of course I panicked! I knew I’d have to make a report to Dame Alina, and you’d face a Tribunal, and all kinds of other consequences we could’ve avoided if you’d gone to Alden.”
“Oh.” Sophie stared at her hands, remembering the burns. “So . . . you really were Sir Astin?”
“I still am Sir Astin. Mind you, he’s taking some time away from Foxfire now that you’re a Level Three. But as far as our world is concerned, Sir Astin is off mapping stars.”
Sophie wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry or laugh. All the time she’d spent wondering about him, and he’d been right there, teaching her for two hours a week.
“So . . . should I call you Sir Astin now?” she asked.
“I’d prefer you didn’t. It’s easier to compartmentalize my life. When I’m here, I’m Mr. Forkle. Though you are welcome to tell the others.”
“Oh, I will.” Even if part of her still struggled to believe it.
She kept replaying her Universe sessions, searching for any clue that might have given him away. But there were none. He’d played his role perfectly.
“Are you satisfied now?” Mr. Forkle asked.
“Satisfied” wasn’t the right word.
It all felt a little anticlimactic. She’d asked. He’d answered. He hadn’t even taken one of those callowberries and morphed into Sir Astin. And she couldn’t think of any of the “slips” he’d mentioned earlier.
“Is that your only identity?” she asked. “Or are there others?”
“Sir Astin is the only one I’m willing to share.”
“How many are there?”
He sighed. “One for my actual life. Another for a role I’ve taken on. Another for the fertility doctor I played to your human parents. I couldn’t be their doctor and their next-door neighbor, after all—but I’m assuming you already guessed that.”
She nodded, even though she hadn’t really thought about it.
Yet another layer of weirdness to her life.
“And that’s all I’ll say for now,” Mr. Forkle said firmly. “Can you accept that?”
Sophie studied his eyes, still not seeing Sir Astin staring back at her. “You’re not Alden, right?”
Mr. Forkle laughed. “Even with every elixir ever made, I could never be that handsome.”
He had a point.
“What about Tiergan?” Her telepathy mentor had always been a mystery. And he’d been close with Prentice.
“You can stop guessing. Even if you get it right, I’m not going to tell you.”
“So that’s a yes, then?” she pressed, not sure what she’d do if it were true.
“I’m not Tiergan. And that is the last thing I’m going to tell you.”
“No, you have to at least tell me if I’ve met the other yous.”
“I most certainly do not. We’ve talked enough about me. It’s time for you to share. Can I see Kenric’s cache?”
Sophie’s palms turned sweaty as she handed him the marble.
“I can’t believe you’re carrying it in your pocket,” he said.
“What am I supposed to do with it?”
“That’s what we must figure out.” He held it up to the light. “Oralie was very brave to give this to you.”
Sophie swallowed a lump of guilt. “What do you think her punishment is going to be?”
“It’s impossible to know. She’s crossed a line that has never been crossed. But she knew that when she gave this to you, so I’m sure she’s prepared. Oralie is far cleverer than you know. It’s easy to underestimate the quiet beauties.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Keefe said, striding into the room.
“You are many things, Mr. Sencen, but quiet is not one of them.”
“So you’re saying I’m a beauty?”
Mr. Forkle scowled. “We’re trying to have a private conversation.”
“Then you shouldn’t have it in a common room.” Keefe plopped into one of the boulder-beanbag chairs, propping up his feet. “And by the way, Sir Astin? How’d you pull off being a Mentor while you were living next to Sophie in human land?”
“That is a secret I’m not willing to share.”
Keefe got up and circled Mr. Forkle. “I bet if I really think about it I can guess the other yous.”