Free Thirteenth Child by Patricia C. Wrede Page A

didn’t hold with religion, either, so they weren’t real popular in most places.
    “Are you quite sure you haven’t confused me with Professor Swanson? Engineering seems more in your line,” Papa said.
    “No, sir,” Brant said firmly. “I want to take your class on the Great Barrier Spell. Also Professor Jeffries’s class on the wildlife beyond the Mammoth River. You see, we’re hoping to be allowed a settlement next year.”
    “If you’re hoping to learn enough magic to protect your people from the wildlife in one or two classes, I’m afraid—”
    “Certainly not!” Mr. Lewis burst out.
    Brant made a little settling-down motion with his hand, and his uncle pressed his lips together. “I don’t want to learn how to do magic, sir; I want to learn what you are doing with it, in as much detail as possible, so we can find our own ways of protecting a settlement.” He gave his uncle a sidelong glance and added, “It’s only the use of magic that’s forbidden, after all, not the study of it.”
    “If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t allow it,” Mr. Lewis grumbled. “But you’re stubborn enough to run off and try it without permission, so I expect you’ll be stubborn enough to resist the temptation to use what you learn.”
    The corners of Papa’s mouth had just about disappeared back into his face, but he didn’t laugh at either of them. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about in that regard,” he said to the older man. “Your nephew hasn’t had the training to cast the sort of advanced spells we’ll be working on, even if he wanted to. I’m more concerned with this settlement scheme of yours. Founding unprotected settlements has been tried before, you know. And they’ve failed every time.”
    “We are well aware of the risks,” Mr. Lewis said.
    “Nevertheless, I doubt the Settlement Office will approve your proposal.”
    “But just think, sir, what a tremendous step it will be, if we can show that it’s possible to set up and maintain an outpost without magic!” Brant said, leaning forward. “It would open the whole vast plain west of the Mammoth to settlement.”
    “Very true,” Papa said, “if you could be sure of doing it. But the Settlement Office may take more convincing than you think. They’re very sensitive on the subject of settlement protection at the moment.”
    “Thanks to you, sir,” Mr. Lewis said approvingly. “Yes, I’ve seen that report you wrote, and we hope to make use of some of the nonmagical suggestions. Your design for a central compound, for instance—”
    He broke off as the door swung open again and Rennie came through, carrying a tray with four glasses, a pitcher of water, and a plate of the biscuits Mrs. Callahan had made for supper. “I thought maybe you’d like some refreshment while you talk,” she said brightly.
    Papa nodded approval. He motioned to Mr. Lewis and Brant to sit down. Rennie set the tray on the little twig table, then took a chair and started pouring water and handing it around. I backed quietly into the house and left. I could see she’d forgotten to bring any napkins or biscuit plates, and I knew as soon as she realized, she’d look for me to get them if I was still there.
    So I never did hear the rest of the conversation, and Rennie was cross with me all evening. But when the college classes started three weeks later, Brant Wilson was one of my father’s students, squared-off hat and crow’s feather and all.

CHAPTER 8
    O NCE SCHOOL STARTED, EVERYTHING SEEMED TO CALM DOWN, FROM the weather to the settlers to the Settlement Office itself. Our daily visitors went back to being students coming for classes or to ask Papa special questions. Hugh packed his trunk and left for the same university back East that Charlie and Peter had studied at, after explaining carefully to Dean Farley that he didn’t mean it as any reflection on the Northern Plains Riverbank College, but he thought he’d prefer a school where he