3) Fundamentals of the Spirit Realm
4) Philosophy of Deathways
5) Access to the Spirit Realm: A History of Portals
6) Advanced Appraisal
And now, inevitably, the pack of young men surrounding Simeon took notice of Clem Quinn. Two of them I knew well. Jack Sikes, an inveterate rogue who was already smirking in anticipation, had an extravagant black mustache and matching eyebrows. Like almost every other student, he wore a piece of aspirational armor, thereby signaling that he, like all the great enchanters, would someday journey into the spirit realm. In this case, it was a polished breastplate engraved with a resplendent eagle. The other one, Peter Barnes, known to all as “Barney,” had a face like a boiled ham and a military jacket with more buttons than an accordion; he wore a single steel gauntlet on his left hand, a condescension to fashion that I imagine caused some inconvenience when he wished to eat a sandwich or blow his nose. At the moment, alas, the gauntlet was serving its purpose of drawing the eye. Barney sneered as he pointed out Quinn’s shoes with the polished forefinger of the gauntlet. Simeon, Sikes, and the boy attempting to impress them looked and laughed. Spirits below—it was even worse than I’d feared. Not only a soft-eyedinnocent, but an impoverished one. Quinn’s shoes had been reheeled. Meticulously reheeled, and by a skilled cobbler, but that was beside the point. One did not flaunt thriftiness at Commonwealth; one concealed it.
Barney and Sikes piled one sardonic comment upon another, earning a quiet chuckle from Simeon, sending the eager boy into fits of laughter, and finally drawing Quinn’s attention. He turned slowly, swiveling on those patched-up heels, and looked at them with surprise. He smiled. “Hello,” he said, looking pleased. “Were you speaking to me?”
“Admiring your shoes,” Sikes offered. He grinned, showing perfectly white teeth under the black mustache. Broad shoulders under the breastplate; spotless shoes. His blue eyes narrowed, sly and cruel, under a silk hat. I had no idea what he actually looked like; he was absolutely covered with tokens. Probably he was weedy and pimpled, with a few stray hairs on his upper lip.
“Why, thank you!” Quinn exclaimed, looking genuinely flattered. “They’re handsewn. I routinely walk seven miles at a time in them without the least discomfort.”
“Seven miles!” Barney exclaimed, showing a row of large teeth. “Most impressive. You are practically a horse.” The men around him laughed.
Quinn laughed along with them, seeming delighted. “Ha! Quite so. Practically a horse,” he echoed.
“Only less intellectually inclined,” Simeon put in quietly, eyes twinkling.
Quinn’s laugh faltered; he peered at Simeon, confused, as the other men snickered. Returning to more stable ground, Quinn said, “As it happens, I’ve enchanted my shoes to be both comfortable and sure-footed.” His eyes lit up with sudden inspiration. “Would you like me to do the same for yours?”
Barney shook his head, laughing. “A spell for old shoes?” He turned to Simeon. “Oh please, you must.”
“No, thank you,” Simeon replied, still smiling.
“Ohyes,” Sikes chimed in, chuckling. “Simeon, that is just what you need—to be comfortable and sure-footed. I’ve said it many times.”
Quinn, evidently excited, leaned forward. “Certainly—”
“No, thank you,” Simeon said again, his voice colder.
But it was too late. Staring intently at Simeon’s shoes, Quinn whispered something inaudible in the crowded hall. At first glance, the fine brown suede appeared no different. “Try them out,” Quinn said eagerly.
Simeon lifted a foot, or attempted to lift a foot, and very nearly pitched forward onto Barney as the jerking motion imbalanced him. He steadied himself, tipping momentarily backward, his arms shooting outward inelegantly. It appeared that his shoes were stuck to the floor. Quinn had, no doubt, badly overestimated the dead worth required for the enchantment. Barney and Sikes burst into laughter, and their hanger-on giggled more tentatively. Simeon did not laugh, but raised his eyes to Quinn’s face, and the look he gave him was, for just a second, murderous.
Quinn seemed not to notice. “Dear me!” he exclaimed, surprised. “That’s very odd. I’ve never had that happen.”
“Immobility is a strange kind of comfort, don’t you think?” Simeon said, his tone chilly. He’d decided to make light of the moment, and perhaps none but me could see the fury glinting in his eyes.
“Ha!” Quinn laughed. “Yes, well put. Although, in some circumstances, immobility is very comfortable. When you’re sleeping, for example.” This caused Barney and Sikes to laugh evenmore. Sikes was almost doubled over, gripping Barney’s shoulder for support.
“But not, I think, in this circumstance,” Simeon said.
“True, very true.” Quinn whispered something in the direction of the shoes, but when Simeon attempted again to lift his feet, they wouldn’t budge.
“You’ll just have to stay here all semester, Admiral,” Barney said through his laughter.
“We’ll bring you lunch and dinner,” Sikes added, wiping away tears, “when we remember to.”
“You could take the shoes off,” the boy with them suggested uncertainly.
Quinn, frowning, made another attempt to release the shoes, and this time, mercifully, Simeon was able to lift his feet—both of them—and take a step forward. “There we are!” Quinn exclaimed happily. “All fixed.”
“And are theyverycomfortable?” Sikes inquired solicitously.
“Oh, indeed,” Simeon replied. “You’ve really missed your calling,” he said to Quinn.
