ones?”
“That depends on your District,” Peter said. “Take Outdoor Experiential Questing, for example. Fantasy folk have that each term, we just learn different things.”
Una took a big bite of apple as Peter listed his other classes. “Heroics and Villainy are both required for everyone at first, but then after three semesters, you get placed in one or the other.”
“But everyone can’t be a Hero or a Villain,” Una said.
Peter pushed an overgrown branch out of the way. “Well, that’s not exactly true. Most characters in Story are pretty clear-cut. You either learn how to save the day or how to try and destroy everything.”
“But that’s not right,” Una argued. “In real life, no one is completely good or completely bad. People are mixed-up jumbles of everything.” She told Peter about one of the mean girls at Saint Anselm’s who made fun of kids for the clothes they wore but always gave money to the homeless man who sat at the bus stop.
“Well, things are different in stories,” Peter said.
“You’re telling me,” Una said.
The path opened up into a grassy square where groups of students bustled down the worn trails that led off in different directions. Most of them wore cloaks of some sort to guard against the chill morning air. It was obvious to Una where some students belonged. She knew that the girl with the magnifying glass was most likely learning to solve a mystery, and the boy in the sleek space suit belonged in a science fiction Tale. But others were more difficult to place. She wished she had explored the library at Saint Anselm’s more. Where did the boy in the kilt fit? The girl with a feathered hat? And what about me? Where would she get classified if her whole future was decided for her with one stroke of a Talekeeper’s pen?
“Do you ever get to learn what you want?” she asked.
Peter considered. “Well, after your first year, you can choose some electives. They pretty much have to fit in with your course of study and your district, though. Since I’m in the Fantasy District, I won’t go taking Rodeo Riding class or something.”
“Rodeo Riding? Very useful.”
“Sure it is,” Peter said as he sidestepped a group of clowns practicing their juggling. “If you’re training to be a Cowboy. I’d rather take Jousting myself, but I guess I’ll have to see. Maybe I’ll have to retake the unit on dragons after failing that Heroics practical.” He smiled as he said it, but his eyes looked worried.
“Snow said the examiners at her review panel were curious about me.” Una ignored the sinking feeling in her stomach and nibbled around her apple core.
“I’m not surprised,” Peter said. “Elton can’t be the only one who noticed something odd.”
Una tossed her apple core into a trash bin. Elton and Red had agreed to leave her alone for now, but who knew what the Talekeepers would do when they found a WI in their midst?
“Just try and keep a low profile,” Peter said as they fell into step behind a trickle of students heading across a narrow bridge toward a stone building. “Especially during this next class. Our Villainy professor is pretty sharp.” Una’s bootlace had come undone, so she knelt to tie it.
“So does a Villain teach Villainy?” Una called after Peter as she knotted the lace.
“That depends on whom you ask,” a smooth voice said from behind her shoulder. Una jumped up and whirled around. The owner of the voice had long silver hair that flowed out from under a pointed black hat. A shimmering cloak covered her slender form, and bright green eyes looked out of a flawless face.
“I am the Villainy professor,” the woman said. “Welcome to Perrault, Ms. Fairchild.”
How does she know my name? Una felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise as she wondered what was considered polite conversation with a Villain. How very creepy you are looking today, Professor. Your voice makes my insides feel like ice water. And where exactly does