Chapter Twenty-Two

                                    

                                          
The pipes weren't an entire bust, but they left me feeling frustrated all day long. Like a word you know but can't think of until it's past the point of mattering. It made the hours drag and at lunch, I was so antsy, Maible and Calin bypassed questioning my abnormal morning routine and asked if I wanted to ditch them to go for a run. Even that didn't help.
                          
What was I missing?
                          
The signature was odd. It wasn't diluted, but not... I didn't know. Whole?
                          
I pushed the door leading into the hall from the girls' change room open and slung my bag over my shoulder as I joined the crowds heading to class. Had whoever pulled the pranks not realized their full potential or something? Somehow, there was a missing link. Maybe they didn't know, and I would be doing them a favor by catching them? Psychiatric care and expanding their self-awareness all with a single expose. Of course, they wouldn't be able to explore that missing bit—if the Council didn't restrict their magic, I would do everything in my power to accomplish it myself.
                          
What if it wasn't Duvessa?
                          
For the first time, I had doubts.
                          
From what I'd seen, she seemed pretty in tune with her abilities. No missing link. Still, since I couldn't understand how I hadn't sensed her when she practiced right in front of me—twice—I wasn't ruling it out. The simplest answer was usually the best one, and I couldn't get past the familiarity of what I had sensed when I went to the pipes. Duvessa or not, I knew the prankster.
                          
Closing my eyes, I came to a stop and pushed thoughts of the prankster from my mind as I raised my knuckles to Mr. Jenzen's door. The last thing I needed to talk about with the school counselor was magic. That would lead to the prankster and my memories, and then all kinds of headache-inducing trouble. I had to remain stoic. Devland pushed this for a reason, and if the teachers worshiped him, it wasn't a stretch to imagine that Mr. Jenzen was in his pocket.
                          
For a nanosecond, I regretted firing Dr. Stanzo, but then the door opened and all I could think about was how I would get through the next hour.
                          
Mr. Jenzen looked just like Mr. Corbin, only forty pounds lighter and sporting real hair. It was thin, sure, and grey, but it was there, sticking out of his scalp like hundreds of little wires crinkling up to the sky, begging to be electrocuted. It didn't help that the top of his head barely reached my eyes, but still. I swallowed as he stuck out his hand and hoisted my bag higher with both hands to avoid contact with his pasty skin.
                          
"I'm Noreena Fa-Dwyer." I shifted and cleared my throat, leaning back to look to the right down the hall.
                          
Hopefully, my real name won't be in his file or I'm busted.
                          
"Glad you finally made it," he said and stepped back to open the door wider. "Come on in."
                          
"I, uh."
                          
"Hurry. The bell has already rung, Miss Dwyer. My rules are like any other class. After the first ten minutes, a tardy becomes an absence."
                          
I looked back as he left the doorway and crossed the room to sit behind his desk opposite the door. Mr. Jenzen rested his elbows on top and steeped his fingers over his nose, looking at me with disapproval out of tiny, dark beady eyes hidden behind gold wire-framed glasses with circular lenses. Great. He looked like Mr. Corbin and acted like Devland. Was it any wonder they changed my schedule to fit this in?
                          
"Look, I don't know what you've been told, but I already saw a shrink, so now my head is the perfect size," I told him and stepped inside. "I don't see the point in messing with a good thing, do you?"
                          
"Do you remember what happened to you yet?"
                          
"Some things are better left untouched." I lifted my chin. "Why would I want to remember something that sounds so painful?"