“Now, this is more like what I expected for the setting of my academy arc,” Det said, running his hands across the polished wood of the desk lining the stadium seating. With a dozen, ascending levels of seating—Det and the others in row four—and two sections of tens seats each per row on either side of a wide aisle leading to the bowl-shaped instructor’s area, there was plenty of room for the entire class of cadets.

  All of whom sat in attendance, chatting freely while they waited for the class to start.

  “I don’t know,” Sage said on Det’s left. “For an alchemy class, don’t you think we should have…” he gestured at the empty, connected desk that ran the length of the row. “Alchemy… stuff?”

  “Stuff?” Calisco said from Sage’s other side. “That the technical term?”

  “Why don’t you check your textbook?” Sage suggested, and Calisco froze.

  “We… have a textbook?”

  “You mean you didn’t do the homework?” Det leaned forward so he could see the slow horror dawning on Calisco’s face playing out in real time. It was like one of those dreams where somebody got to class, only to realize there was a test they hadn’t studied for. Or they’d forgotten to put on pants.

  “There’s no way…” Calisco said, head snapping around to look at Tena on her other side. “Did you do the homework?”

  The corner of Tena’s lip twitched. “I had a lot of trouble with it,” Tena said. “Especially the third question. I had to ask Sage for help.”

  “Now I know you’re lying!” Calisco said.

  Tena froze. “Because I asked Sage for help?”

  “Yes!” Calisco said. “You don’t ask for help! You’re too badass to need anybody else.”

  “I’m not. I mean, I am! I mean… dammit,” Tena cursed and gently smacked the desk in front of her.

  “Was there really homework?” Eriba asked quietly from Det’s other side. After eating a salad, she’d gone completely back to normal. The strangeness from before just had to be her version of hangry… or something. Hung-creepy? Creungry? He’d have to workshop a term for it.

  “No homework,” Det reassured, then paused. “At least, none that I know of. So, if there was, we’ll get in trouble together.”

  “Oh, that’s nice,” Eriba said and bobbed her head. Her hands were clasped beneath the desk, and her long hair hung over her face to spread across the polished wood.

  “I would have thought you’d be happier in the arena,” Sage said to Det.

  “I would be,” Det replied. “Or maybe back in Beauty’s class working on our magic. That’s probably what’s going to get me home.”

  “But?” Sage asked, eyebrow going up in question.

  “But…” Det trailed off. “I could also be wrong. It might be here, in this admittedly lavish classroom, that I’ll get an answer. Or a way to get back. Maybe I can, I don’t know, brew a potion of teleportation.”

  “I don’t think they make those,” Tena said.

  “But are you sure they don’t make them?” Det countered.

  “Uh… no, I guess I’m not sure,” Tena responded, then looked at Calisco. “Do you think they make teleportation potions?”

  “I don’t care,” Calisco said. “I don’t want to go back to Earth. Ever. Now, exploding potions or awesome potions, yeah, those I’m more interested in. Or maybe something that tastes like a margarita. I haven’t had a margarita in years. Let alone a good one. Margaritas and chocolate, yeah, those are what we need a class to learn how to make.”

  “We might be able to make chocolate with alchemy,” Weiss said, his finger tapping on the wooden desk.

  “Ohhhhh, please,” Calisco said, practically moaning at the thought of chocolate. “You make me chocolate, and you’re officially my best friend.”

  “And I thought I was your best friend,” Tena said, feigning hurt.

  “Well, until somebody makes me chocolate,” Calisco said.

  Zero scruples, that one.

  “Do you really think you can make a potion of teleportation?” Sage said quietly, leaning closer to Det while ignoring the chocolate-fueled nonsense occurring on his other side.

  “Honestly?” Det asked, then shook his head. “Nah. I have a good idea what potions will do. Not teleportation. From what Cups was saying, probably it’s more like buffs or invisibility or something like that. No, I don’t think alchemy will get me home. But maybe it’ll give me some other ideas, or get me going down the right path to something I haven’t thought about. All this time, I’ve been trying to use my magic to get me home. To draw a doorway that takes me back to my bedroom.

  “But looking at alchemy… well, that might take me to some other avenue I haven’t thought of, you know?”

  “I can see that,” Sage said. “Who knows what they’re going to teach us here in the Mistguard?”

  “There must be more classes than alchemy,” Det said. “Right?”

  “You bet there are,” Sage said. “From the rumors I’ve heard—or from what my uncle told me, let’s be real—there are several. There’s alchemy, like this class, enchanting, which maybe you want to look at, as well as some of your more standard crafts. Blacksmithing. Leatherworking. Sewing. That kind of thing.”

  “Oh, oh, Det! Make me an apron,” Calisco said. “Something with cute hearts on it. Maybe a cat… oh, put one of your cats on it! Maybe not the one with the crazy eyes, though. People would never leave me alone. My awesome plus your cat… then again…”

  Calisco trailed off, clearly thinking about the implications of having the Calamity Kitten under her control. Yeah, that would be a disaster. She’s try taking over the world, no doubt. Far too much chuni in her to do anything else with it. He could practically close his eyes and see it play out in front of him.

  Det resolved himself to never make her an apron with the Calamity Kitten on it.

  “Can you make me an apron with a turtle on it?” Eriba said quietly from beside him.

  Okay, maybe he could do a turtle. That couldn’t be so bad, could it?

  Wait, no! What was he doing? Aprons were not going to get him back home.

  Still, even as he reprimanded himself in his head, he looked at the other ReSouled cadets sitting in the auditorium-style classroom. More than a few looked very eager to get started. He couldn’t really blame them. He’d read enough books and seen enough movies that had made wizard school and alchemy pretty damn cool.

  Who knows, they might get to brew a potion of immortality or something. That seemed more likely than teleportation. Eh. The closest he’d get to teleportation would probably be exploding himself. And as much as Calisco would like that, it didn’t really help him. He’d pass on the exploding.

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  “Any idea when we’re going to start?” Tena asked.

  And like it was a cue, a door opened at the bottom of the classroom, where three instructors walked out. One of them Det recognized as Cups, still in the same outfit he’d been wearing in the arena.

  Beside him was an older woman, spectacles resting on her nose and a very heavy-duty leather apron belted to her chest and hanging below her waist. She even had thick, what looked like leather or rubber gloves that went almost all the way up to her shoulders. Her boots were no less heavy-duty. And then there was the various equipment strapped across her. Goggles. Masks. Pockets full of what had to be some sort of measurement tools. In a way, the woman looked like she was going to war with a chemistry lab. That made more sense for an alchemy teacher.

  As for the third person, the first thing that came to Det’s mind when he looked at the man was… a butler. He stood ramrod straight in a simple outfit of black and white, a single monocle on his left eye, a perfect mustache and tiny triangular goatee, not to mention his hair slicked back like he’d used an entire tub of wax.

  The man looked about as much an alchemy instructor as Cups did… which wasn’t saying much. It also meant Det probably shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.

  “It’s nice to see the classroom so full this cycle,” said the central woman with the apron and tools. “Only one empty seat, good, good.”

  While the woman’s words weren’t loud, much like the headmaster’s, they carried through the room and quieted the cadets just through her presence. There was no need for a raised voice or the slap of a ruler on a desk. The woman somehow commanded attention.

  Similar to what Det was starting to notice with other ReSouled, he could feel power radiating off her. If he had his eyepatch, he could probably find out her Rank. For now, he’d have to guess, and she felt stronger than Cups, at least from the level of her magic. That meant she was above C-rank. Not remarkably stronger, though. So maybe B-rank?

  “My name is Allison, but most people around here call me Caustic. You may also call me Professor or Ma’am. On my left is Instructor Cups. Try to ignore his appearance and the occasional smell on his breath. He is an excellent alchemist and one of the most proficient we’ve ever had in combat-enhancing potions.”

  Caustic trailed off for a moment, letting the cadets get a good look at her and Cups before she gestured with her other hand to the butler at her side.

  “This is Professor Majordomo.”

  Det probably wasn’t the only one who had to repress a chuckle at the name. A little too on the nose, that one.

  “With a specialty in,” Caustic continued, “healing and obscure potion effects. While I like to think I know a little bit about every potion, Majordomo has an impressive, almost scary, knowledge of obscure and lost potions.”

  She started to go on, but trailed off as a hand went up. Det had to repress a second chuckle when he saw who it was. Oligy. Of course. The same cadet from Det’s Arsenal class. It seemed it wasn’t only Beauty and Beast he had endless questions for.

  “Yes, Cadet?” Caustic said, not realizing what she was getting herself into by giving Oligy a chance to speak.

  “Are you saying he’s a better alchemist than you are?” Oligy asked, pure innocence on his face.

  If the room hadn’t already been silent, Det would have been able to hear a pin drop after that question. A small pin. Hair-sized.

  Caustic, at the front of the room, could only blink at the directness of the question.

  “Allow me, ma’am,” Majordomo said. “While I believe myself to be an excellent alchemist, I stand leagues below Caustic in both skill and knowledge. The potions she referred to—those that I possess the recipes for—are ones I found hidden and lost. You could say I have a bit of a nose for finding this kind of thing.

  “On the other hand, Caustic is a pioneer. While I can only reproduce recipes that I’ve been taught or found, Caustic braves the unknown. Her knowledge of potions and ingredients is second to none in the entire kingdom. I would even go as far as to say, in the entire world.

  “While she is busy making pillar-shattering discoveries, I shall continue making potions crafted a thousand years ago and lost until today.”

  “Wouldn’t today’s potions be better than potions from a thousand years ago?” Oligy said.

  “Nah,” Cups said. “Just because it’s new doesn’t make it better.” He tapped one of the wineskins hanging near his waist. One of the smaller ones. “Actually, this right here is from a recipe Majordomo found. A recipe that’s almost as old as the Mistguard. We estimate it was in use approximately 1,800 years ago. Ninety cycles, and it…”

  “What does it do?” Oligy interrupted in his excitement for getting answers.

  Instead of immediately answering, Cups slowly turned his head to look up at Tena. “Is he a friend of yours?” the instructor asked.

  Tena, in response, turned her head to look over at Oligy, her face screwing up when she didn’t recognize him. Then she turned back to Cups. “No, sir. Why?”

  “That you even have to ask worries me,” Cups said, shaking his head before turning his attention back to Oligy. “Ninety cycles ago, we believe this potion was one of the greatest weapons against Uncored incursions into the kingdom. It offers a significant physical boost for a short period of time.”

  “How do you know it wasn’t used for farming?” Oligy said, notebook open in front of him as his pencil scratched notes.

  “Because of the side effects once the potion wears off,” Cups said. “No way a farmer would put up with this for a little extra speed milking the cows. No, this was definitely a trump-card-type potion. Or, a last-ditch effort when your life was on the line.”

  “Are we going to learn how to make it?” a cadet Det didn’t recognize asked.

  “Depends on your skill,” Caustic said, taking control of the questions again. “This is an intro to alchemy course. Everyone is expected to take this semester, both so you can become familiar with the process and, hopefully, learn how to make at least minor healing potions in the field. It also lets us get an idea of who has aptitude.

  “There will be a second-semester course offered as well. It will go much deeper into both variety and complexity of potions. However, it will be an elective for most. Medics will be expected to take the second-year course, as we’ll be moving into stronger healing potions, and there will be times when you’ll be unable to use your magic, either because of exhaustion or situation. Being able to craft your own healing potions in those cases will be beyond invaluable.

  “Others who find interest in the topic, such as Cups, will also be welcomed back, contingent on passing the test at the end of this term and getting the seal of approval from either myself, Majordomo, or Cups.

  “For the record, there will also be even more in-depth courses during the second and third years here. Those who make it all the way the final semester of your third year in my alchemy class, you will not be grandmasters, but you will be close. You’ll be able to craft potions that change the battlefield, regrow limbs, or even let you see the future, to name a few.”

  “Can you make a potion of teleportation?” Calisco asked, then looked at Det. “Asking for a… not-friend.”

  “A potion of teleportation,” Caustic said, finger tapping her lips. The lack of an immediate dismissal had Det leaning forward in his seat. “True teleportation is powerful, powerful magic. In the arena the other day, we all saw an excellent example of short-range teleportation. Some would call it blinking. While I won’t go into details and potentially divulge a weakness of an arena fighter, the range of teleportation often determines what we call it. Something that is line-of-sight and limited, we tend to refer to as a blink.

  “What we would usually call teleportation—true teleportation—would require the user to cross not just miles, but hundreds of miles, possibly planes of existence. We’ve been able to craft—thanks to a recipe Majordomo found—a potion that allows the drinker to temporarily utilize a blink-like ability.

  “I will say that the ingredients for that potion are both rare, expensive, and dangerous to acquire. Rarely worth it. Now, a potion that allows the bearer to truly teleport? So far, that does not exist.”

  “Do you think it could?” Det said before he could censor himself. “Or, do we have a ReSouled here who can use true teleportation?”

  “I have been an alchemist for over three hundred years,” Caustic said, earning a whistle of surprise from more than one cadet in the room. If General Vans looked good for one sixty, she looked amazing for three hundred.

  “In my time, I’ve seen some astonishing discoveries. Some lost recipes, like the Potion of Blink. Others, new creations. Potions that never existed before and changed the way we live. New discoveries in healing potions, for example, that can regrow not just lost limbs but also lost organs. Even destroyed brains.

  “I have seen potions of flight, of invisibility, of incredible strength, of the ability to withstand the crushing depths of the ocean. Potions I never thought possible. Some, I myself have discovered.

  “A potion of true teleportation, however, remains elusive. Members of the Mistguard have explored the possibility and come up empty-handed. Other alchemists throughout the kingdom—and there are many, some of whom we’ll bring in for guest lectures—have also attempted to discover such a potion. Like us, they haven’t quite found the correct combination of ingredients.

  “If it’s something you’d like to pursue,” Caustic said, meeting Det’s eyes, “it’s something you would do in one of the later years. Second, at the earliest. Third, most likely. Between now and then, you’ll be introduced to dozens, if not hundreds or thousands, of ingredients. You’ll be given lists of their properties and have the opportunity to learn firsthand how they combine. Perhaps you’ll discover a combination nobody else has seen. Be it two ingredients that have never been put together, ratios, or an additive we never thought to try.

  “Perhaps you’ll even find an ingredient we’ve never encountered before. It happens more often than you might expect. That’s one reason we sometimes have expeditions to the Corelands.

  “As for your second question,” she said. “Unfortunately, no, we do not have a ReSouled—nor have we ever—had one within the Mistguard who has possessed true teleportation magic. It’s a shame.

  “However,” she added, a small smirk tugging at her lips, “enough of all that for the moment. Now, as I welcome you to our classroom, there is only one thing I think you really need to hear me say. Well… or maybe you don’t need it, and I just want to say it. Probably my favorite words when it comes to this room and a new group of students.”

  She paused for effect, her eyes glinting.

  “It’s time for your first test.”