CHAPTER 6

"I already understood that."

"That's good. Then let's go; I'll see you out."

So it happened that instead of arriving at the cafeteria earlier, I was almost twenty minutes late. By the time Harrington and I got there, it was already jam-packed with students. It was very noisy in the huge room, but when we entered, it became very quiet.

Hundreds of students looked at us with interest, and at that moment, I felt like not just a black sheep, but a two-headed giraffe who was brought in on a rope.

Everyone around was in uniform: guys in dark suits, girls in skirts and light shirts. I was the only one in blue jeans and a black T-shirt with the name of my favourite rock band on it. And I was the only one here who was twelve years old. Everyone else was older.

"Well, here we are," said Edward Frederick. "Choose a free seat and enjoy your meal."

After these words, the director left, and I, under the silent gaze of the students from all over the school, went to where it smelled very delicious—to the kitchen.

With every step I took, the noise around me became louder, and soon I could clearly hear whispers:

"He's just a kid!"

"What the hell is he doing here!"

"Fielding? They're beggars!"

"What can he do besides brew elixirs!"

"Pendragon will soon turn into a flophouse!"

"What a shame!"

"Oh God, bring the potty to the baby quickly!"

I heard all this, but I didn't care. Although it was unpleasant, what can I say… Damn it, I'm not a little kid anymore, and I know that our family is not considered particularly rich and all that.

All sorts of freaks often tell me about this. Oliver Benson will now be lame for not being able to keep his mouth shut. And Gideon Strathmore's daughter suffered for the same reason—toothless tara! Well, and some others…

I looked around with a smile and suddenly saw the same fat man who came to me in the morning. He looked at me with an idiotic smile and even blushed to keep from laughing. Noticing my gaze, he winked at me, and I responded in kind—wait a minute, freak; I'll think of something in response to your joke.

Under the watchful eye of the others, I picked up the tray and walked leisurely past the long row of shiny containers of food. I picked up a couple of pancakes with meat, a muffin, a portion of cottage cheese pancakes with raspberry jam, and two glasses of strawberry juice for breakfast.

Having chosen a free table, I started breakfast. The director was right; the food here was really great! I have never tasted better pancakes. They cooked worse at home. And the raspberry jam was also good. I even regretted not taking two portions. Mum and Dad weren't around, so who's going to stop me? Next time, I'll definitely take two portions. No, even three. Three is better than two.

While I was eating, everyone else also returned to their food, but their interest in me did not wane. Although I tried not to stare too much, I felt hundreds of eyes on me. Forget them; let them stare. What idiots.

As I was finishing my second glass of juice, someone's shadow fell on my table. I looked up and saw a man of about fifty in a formal black suit. He had a black patch instead of his left eye, which made him look like a pirate. And in general—a black moustache, beard… The only thing missing to complete the picture was a parrot on his shoulder.

"Would you like some juice?" I asked him after he had been standing next to me for two minutes without saying a word. "I took two glasses."

"Have you finished your drink?" he growled, speaking as if he were a pirate.

"Right away," I said, and finished my juice in a few gulps. "Done!"

"Come with me," he said and silently stomped out of the dining room.

I stood up and followed him, noting that everyone else, watching this scene, had fallen silent again. Now the silence was even more oppressive than when we entered the dining room with the director.

It's strange… So why has it become so quiet?

Canteen of Pendragon Academy.

A few minutes later…

The guy who woke Fielding up was called Nathaniel Brighthollow. He was simply happy with how he managed to fool this little fool. Who knew that he would fall for it so easily? Although, what can you do? All the new guys do… Especially this one… He still needs to wipe his snot with a handkerchief, and not study at Pendragon.

"Have you seen the new kid?" he was having fun with the other third-year students he was sitting at the same table with. "Harrington leads him around the school by the hand so he doesn't get lost!"

His friends responded with a friendly laugh, which was supported by those at the next table.

"I wonder what his Gift is? To blow snot bubbles?" Nathaniel continued to have fun.

"I doubt it," one of the girls who was sitting at the same table with him suddenly snapped. "Did you see who came for him?"

"That doesn't mean anything yet," Nathaniel waved her off. "I'll never believe that this little girl could have such a Gift. Just think about it—at twelve years old and suddenly this? What nonsense!"

"Then what do you think he's doing here?" the girl didn't give up.

"He doesn't do anything yet, but he will fart and run! He won't do anything else…"

At that moment, Nathaniel jumped up from his chair, his eyes widened, and he grabbed his bottom with both hands. A moment later, he farted so loudly, as if someone had pulled a huge plug out of his bottom that had been preventing him from passing gas for five years.

Then the sound was repeated with renewed force, and this time it thundered so loudly that the students sitting nearby felt their ears pop. And then a wave of suffocating stench washed over everything around. The sounds of chairs falling could be heard, and girls began to scream hysterically.

Just a few minutes later, the dining room was empty.