Wayne adjusted his spectacles, watching them go. He shook his head. Ruffians, trying to get into the university! Scandalous. He walked in through the gates, wearing a bow tie and carrying a load of books. Another of those men—who stood in a more hidden spot, watching his companions chase Dims—barely gave Wayne a glance.
Spectacles. They were kind of like a hat for smart people. Wayne ditched the books inside the square, then walked past a fountain with a statue of a lady who wasn’t properly clothed—he idled only a short time—and made his way toward Pashadon Hall, the girls’ dormitory. The building looked an awful lot like a prison: three stories of small windows, stonework architecture, and iron grates that seemed to say “Stay away, boys, if you value your nether parts.”
He pushed his way in the front doors, where he prepared himself for the second of his three tests: the Tyrant of Pashadon. She sat at her desk, a woman built like an ox with a face to match. Her hair even curled like horns. She was a fixture of the university, or so Wayne had been told. Perhaps she had come with the chandeliers and sofas.
She looked up from her desk in the entryway, then threw herself to her feet in challenge. “You!”
“Hello,” Wayne said.
“How did you get past campus security!”
“I tossed them a ball,” Wayne said, tucking the spectacles into his pocket. “Most hounds love having somethin’ to chase.”
The tyrant rumbled around the side of her desk. It was like watching an ocean liner try to navigate city canals. She wore a tiny hat, in an attempt at fashion. She liked to consider herself a part of Elendel upper society, and she kind of was. In the same way that the blocks of granite that made up the steps to the governor’s mansion were a part of civic government.
“You,” she said, spearing Wayne in the chest with a finger. “I thought I told you not to come back.”
“I thought I ignored you.”
“Are you drunk?” She sniffed at his breath.
“No,” Wayne said. “If I were drunk, you wouldn’t look nearly so ugly.”
She huffed, turning away. “I can’t believe your audacity.”
“Really? Because I’m sure I’ve been this audacious before. Every month, in fact. So this seems a right believable thing for me to do.”
“I’m not letting you in. Not this time. You are a scoundrel.”
Wayne sighed. Heroes in stories never had to fight the same beast twice. Seemed unfair he had to face this one each month. “Look, I just want to check in on her.”
“She is fine.”
“I have money,” Wayne said. “To give her.”
“You can leave it here. You distress the girl, miscreant.”
Wayne stepped forward, taking the tyrant by the shoulder. “I didn’t want to have to do this.”
She looked at him. And, to his surprise, she cracked her knuckles. Wow. He reached into his pocket quickly and pulled out a piece of pasteboard.
“One ticket,” Wayne said quickly, “admitting two people to the governor’s spring dinner and policy speech, occurring during a party at Lady ZoBell’s penthouse tonight. This here ticket lists no specific names. Anyone who has it can get in.”
Her eyes widened. “Who’d you steal that from?”
“Please,” Wayne said. “It came delivered to my house.”
Which was perfectly true. It was for Wax and Steris. But they were important enough folk that invitations sent to them had no names, so they could send an emissary if they wished. When it came to someone fancy like Wax, even getting their relative or friend to attend your party could be advantageous.
The tyrant didn’t count as either. But Wayne figured that Wax would be happy to not have to go to the blasted party anyway. Besides, Wayne had left a real nice-looking leaf he’d found in exchange. Rusting beautiful, that leaf was.
The tyrant hesitated, so Wayne waved the ticket in front of her.
“I guess…” she said. “I could let you in one last time. I’m not supposed to allow unrelated men into the visiting room, however.”
“I’m practically family,” he said. They made a big fuss about keeping the young women and young men separated around here, which Wayne found odd. With all of these smart people around, wouldn’t one of them have realized what boys and girls was supposed to do together?
The tyrant let him pass into the visiting room, then sent one of the girls at the desk to run for Allriandre. Wayne sat down, but couldn’t keep his feet from tapping. He’d been stripped of weapons, bribes, and even his own hat. He was practically naked, but he’d made it to the final test.
Allriandre entered a few moments later. She’d brought backup with her in the form of two other young ladies about her age—just shy of twenty. Smart girl, Wayne thought, proud. He rose.
“Madam Penfor says you’re drunk,” Allriandre said, remaining in the doorway.