Once In a Blue Moon Read Online Free Page A

the main paths, so they could talk with the students one last time. The Administrator would have preferred to hurry back to the Tree so he could make his report on the dead birds and set wheels in motion. But he made himself slow his pace to that of Hawk and Fisher's because he wanted to hear what they had to say. It wasn’t that he suddenly distrusted them after so many years of working together; it was more that the Administrator didn’t trust anyone.
    The tents came in all sizes and all colours, like a ragged rainbow lying scattered around the base of the Tree. There were small cooking fires all over the place, and the delightful smells of a dozen different cuisines wafted through the early-morning air. Heavily laden washing lines flapped between the tents, displaying more kinds of underwear than the mind could comfortably cope with so early in the morning. Students ran back and forth, laughing and chasing, or sat in small circles lacing up each other’s armour, or ran through exercise routines of exhausting thoroughness. No one ever missed first class in the Millennium Oak. They’d all worked too hard to earn their place.
    Hawk and Fisher moved easily among the students, greeting a surprisingly large number by name, inquiring how they were doing and seeming genuinely interested in the answers. The Administrator didn’t join in. Partly because his people skills were strictly limited, as he’d be the first to admit, but mostly because he didn’t give a damn. He cared about the Academy’s successes only after they’d left and were off doing suitably heroic things at a distance and were no longer his responsibility. He had been heard to say, quite loudly and in all apparent sincerity, that the Academy would be a lot easier to run if it weren’t for all the damned students getting in the way.
    Hawk and Fisher could feel his brooding presence at their backs but refused to be hurried. They kept moving, never actually stopping, because they knew if they did, a crowd would soon gather and they’d never get through. A large number of the newer students saw their presence as an opportunity to show off their various skills. An archer casually shot an apple off the head of a trusting friend, only to be immediately upstaged as another archer targeted an apple set between the thighs of an extremely trusting friend. The look in that particular young man’s eyes was frankly terrified, but give him his due—he didn’t flinch. Possibly because he didn’t dare to. The archer made his shot successfully, and the friend left the apple pinned to the tree and walked quickly away. Probably to have a nice lie-down. Hawk and Fisher made a point of congratulating him as well as the archer.
    They did pause briefly to observe an exhibition bout between two top-rank swordsmen, who courteously stopped at regular intervals to explain to the watching crowd exactly what they were doing, and how.
    A young sorcerer, barely into his mid-teens, sat alone at a table, staring fixedly at the single piece of fruit set out on a platter before him. He concentrated, scowling till his eyebrows met and beads of sweat popped out on his forehead, and the apple before him changed into a lemon. And then into a pear. The piece of fruit transformed itself over and over again, but the student was clearly making hard work of it. Though basic transformations were always impressive, they often took more effort than they were worth. Practice does make perfect, however. Eventually. Hawk paid the young sorcerer a vague compliment, whereupon the sorcerer blushed happily, lost his concentration, and the apple exploded. Messily. All over him. Hawk and Fisher moved quickly on.
    It seemed like everyone had some speciality they just had to show off. Students hovered uncertainly in midair, or juggled balls of flame, and one young witch danced a decorous waltz with an animated scarecrow. Hawk and Fisher smiled and nodded, and kept moving. They passed one young man struggling