Fates spell; Jack Korrapati

Chapter 11- The Book trial

"Wassyoornackthen?" Hawthorne asked, through a mouthful of toasted cheese sandwich.

Jupiter had allowed my new friend to visit me at the Hotel Deucalion on the condition that he help me study for the upcoming Book Trial. So far we hadn't studied anything but the Deucalion itself.

Hawthorne especially loved the Smoking Parlor (chocolate smoke this afternoon: "to promote emotional well-being"), the Rain Room (though he hadn't brought any galoshes and his trousers were now soaked to his knees), and the theatre. Actually, not the theatre itself but rather the dressing room backstage. The walls were lined with hanging costumes, and each one came with an accent and a funny walk that took ages to fade. Hawthorne was still skipping down the corridors half an hour after he'd taken off his Goldilocks costume.

Now we are sitting at a corner table in the Hotel Deucalion's busy kitchen, which was full of steam and noise and chefs scrambling to fill orders.

Not the best place to study for a test, in my opinion, but Fen won't let us eat our lunch in the library and Kedgeree had earlier announced that gravity had been suspended in the dining room until further notice.

"Wass... what's my knack?" I dread this question. "Um, I don't know exactly."

Hawthorne nodded, chewing and swallowing loudly. "You don't have to tell me. Loads of candidates keep it a secret. Gives 'em an edge at the Show Trial."

"It's not that," I said in a rush. "I don't think I have one good enough for the Wundrous society."

"You must," he said, frowning as he chugged half a glass of milk. "Your patron can't put you in the trials unless you've got a knack. It's the rules."

A thought still niggled at the back of my mind. Is my knack something that can be contained and not be dangerous to everyone involved? I longed to ask Hawthorne's

opinion, but I'm not even supposed to mention how utterly disgraceful, or that I am a danger to everyone that loves me. Oh, as well as that I'm a demon.

I had promised Jupiter.

"I think I'd know if it was useful." I picked at my sandwich. I've lost my appetite. It had been nice, I thought miserably, to have a friend for five minutes. Hawthorne would be better off befriending the dog faced boy.

"S'pose you would." Hawthorne shrugged. He polished off the last of

his sandwich and opened up one of the textbooks I had

'borrowed' from Jupiter's study. "Should we start with the Great War?"

I looked up. "What?"

"Or do you want to save that until we've covered the boring stuff?"

I tried to keep her voice light, to cover her surprise. "So you... you still want to be friends?"

"What? Yeah. Duh." He made a face. I felt her mouth twitch into a smile. Hawthorne was giving his friendship as if it meant nothing. He couldn't know that it meant everything.

"But we're supposed to be... making valuable alliances and... and all that stuff they said at the Wundrous Welcome. That is a load of utter bullshit if you ask me though." I carried our empty plates to the sink, narrowly dodging the sous chef as he rushed past with a dish of steaming mussels. I felt duty-bound to make sure Hawthorne understood. "I doubt I'm a valuable alliance."

"Who cares?" he said with a laugh, turning back to his book.

I felt a surge of relief as I sat down again. The only other person that is around my age that is my friend, is Jack. And he is off at boarding school. Although he has been coming home. Jupiter and the staff insist it's my presence that is making him come home, but in reality, I think it is because he realises Graysmark is a snotty boys school. "I think we should start with the Great War, because there's loads of blood and guts. First question: How many heads got chopped off at the Battle of Fort Lamentation in the Highlands?"