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The senior faculty had been complaining. Well they always complained, but it was rare for them to unite in the same complaint.
“He’s out of control!” snapped the Chair of Indefinite Studies.
“This is why you can’t hire anyone under seventy years old!” said the Dean, shaking his head. “I told you, Mustrum.”
“All right, you lot. I know Stibbons has his little projects, but what’s he done now?” Ridcully leaned back, focused on oiling his crossbow.
“He said I should collaborate with him!” exclaimed the Lecturer in Recent Runes. “To perform half the work on… whatever it is he’s doing!”
The faculty shuddered.
“You tell him no?” Ridcully asked.
“Of course, and I explained in no uncertain terms why that was such an inappropriate request!”
“He wanted me to clarify a point in Moudogast’s Historie of Aviculture of Krull, and then he went on asking questions!” growled the Senior Wrangler. “Right in the middle of lunch!”
“I don’t recall him being so keen as a student,” Ridcully said.
“I don’t recall him at all as a student,” muttered the Chair of Indefinite Studies. “And if he had any sense he’d stop calling himself to our attention.”
“Do something about this, Mustrum!” blustered the Dean.
Ridcully sighed, swinging his crossbow around. It fired a bolt right between the Lecturer in Recent Runes and the Dean. The Bursar had been walking by outside, and it pinned his hat to the wall. “Very well. Since you lot can’t deal with your own problems, I suppose I’ll have to.”
“The faculty and staff are your responsibility!” said the Senior Wrangler.
“Your fault!” added the Dean.
“Really!” Ridcully glared around at them. “Can’t imagine what sins I might’ve committed to deserve you lot.”
^ ^ ^
Archchancellor Ridcully walked into the High Energy Magic Building and looked around, frowning. Students scuttled about working on HEX. Cold pizza congealed on piles of books.
“Anyone seen Mr. Stibbons lately?” he shouted after a moment.
“Um, n-not in a few hours.”
“He said he had something to do in the Academic Building, I think.”
“Was he at lunch?”
Ridcully waved them away. “Mr. HEX?”
The mouse ran on its wheel. Ants hurried through the glass tubing. The windmill spun. A quill scratched across paper, and after a moment a card emerged. +++CURRENTLY LEAVING THE CABINET OF CURIOSITY EN ROUTE TO THE BURSAR’S OFFICE.+++
“At least one person in here knows something of use! Thank you, Mr. HEX. The rest of you lot, try to keep your feet on the ground.” He rolled his eyes and left.
^ ^ ^
“Stibbons!” Ridcully shouted as he walked into the Bursar’s office. Ponder jumped and snapped his pencil in half. The Bursar leapt up into the corner of the ceiling. He tried to pull himself down, but seemed to be stuck.
“Y-yes, Archchancellor?” said Stibbons.
“I hear you’ve been badgering the rest of the faculty!”
“I…” Ponder reddened. “I’ve been trying to… draw on their wisdom, Archchancellor.”
“Really? How’s that working out for you so far?”
“They… they don’t seem to care about anything but eating their dinners! They’re supposed to be the greatest magical minds of our age, and I can’t even get them to have an intellectual discussion!” Ponder wailed.
Ridcully slapped him on the back, making Ponder lurch forward and the Bursar pass halfway through the wall above. He glanced up and frowned. “Get ahold of yourself, Bursar! Now young man, how’s your own field of study going? The Invisible Writings?”
“I’ve read everything I can, and I’ve spent a lot of time talking to the Librarian… He’s taken me into L-space once or twice, but I can tell he doesn’t like me there and doesn’t trust me further than I could throw him. I’ve explained that I’m trying to do my job, but he didn’t seem to care! No one cares! I’m the only one here doing anything, Archchancellor!
Ridcully nodded slowly as Ponder panted. The Bursar was now trying to sink further into the ceiling. “Got that out of your system now?”
Ponder bristled. “With all due respect, Archchancellor, I expected a more professional academic working environment.”
“You were a student here, lad.”
“Well – yes, but I thought… I thought I could change things.” He trailed off and the anger crumbled, leaving him looking small and lost.
Ridcully looked at him with a gleam in his eye. He squeezed the narrow shoulder. “Come on lad, it’s too stuffy in here. Bursar, get down from there at once!” He led Ponder out into the hall. “You’ve been on faculty for a couple years now, son.”
“Yes, sir…”
“You’ve got a whole herd of students in the HEM Building who think you can do no wrong.”
Ponder bit his lip. “That’s almost worse, sir. It’s a lot of pressure.”
“Nothing you can’t handle!” said Ridcully cheerfully. In the room behind them, the Bursar fell to the floor with a grunt. “Doin’ admirably for a lad of your age. I know it’s a lot.”
Ponder’s shoulders slumped. “Thank you, sir,” he sighed. “I’m trying.”
Ridcully frowned, then patted Ponder’s back just a bit lighter. “You’re carryin’ a lot, my boy. I know what you need.”
“An assistant?” Ponder asked hopefully. “A raise?”
“A good meal and a change of scenery!” Ridcully grinned.
“…What?”
“Meet me tomorrow at three, that ought to give us plenty of time.”
“For… dinner?”
“Exactly! And put on a fresh robe. No stains. And bring along a good reliable broomstick.”
“Oh, er… I actually have a lot of work to do…”
“No excuses, I’ll pull you out of HEX myself if I have to!”
“Yes, Archchancellor…”
^ ^ ^
Ridcully swept Ponder up in his wake as he headed out the door the following afternoon. “The robe’s a bit plain, but I suppose it’ll do. Got your broomstick?”
Ponder held up a rather sad broomstick. “Where are we going?”
The archchancellor took Ponder’s broomstick and his own and lay them on the ground, then stretched a magic carpet over them. “Damn slow on their own, but the brooms give the carpet some oomph. And two of us’ll balance things out.” He went and sat down, taking up most of the carpet. “Come on, let’s be off.”
Ponder dithered, then sat down gingerly in a free corner. They rose up and headed hubwards.
“Mother’s always getting after me to come home for family dinner,” Ridcully said when they’d leveled off in the air. “Of course Hughnon and his family make it back at least every other week.”
Ponder stared.
“It’s a bit of a trial with all of us in one room. Still, food’s good and the mountain air’s good for the soul. Where’d you grow up, Stibbons? You seem like a city boy.”
“Ah – Quirm, sir.” Ponder was gripping a fold in the carpet.
“Stop that, come on! Pull your weight, your corner’s sagging.”
Ponder took a deep breath, and eventually his corner of the carpet evened out.
“There. Got a big family?”
“N-no, sir. I… was raised by my aunts.” Ponder dragged his eyes away from the cabbage fields below.
“Always wanted to be a wizard, hm?”
“I was certainly glad when my talents… made themselves known.”
“Ha! I nearly burned old Spools Winken’s trousers clean off. That was the day the other boys stopped calling me Mustard.” He grinned.
Ponder swallowed, trying to keep his lunch down. It was hard to imagine a man as big and powerful as the archchancellor getting bullied the way Ponder had.
“Anyway! Here you are, on the faculty of UU. Living the dream, eh?”
Ponder smiled weakly. “I suppose, Archchancellor. It’s not quite what I imagined, but… it’s certainly a step up.”
“It’s never what anyone imagines, boy! Hell, I only took the post of Archchancellor because I figured I could bend the place to fit what I thought it should be.”
“…And you did.”
“Ha! Every day’s a fight. With Vetinari, with the priests, with the city, with the damn wizards who are supposed to follow my lead! Best I can do is clean up the damage, some days!”
“But… I mean, sir, when I was starting out… everyone was afraid all the time.”
“Well, under different patricians…”
“No, Lord Vetinari was patrician then. My first year, the sourcerer showed up.”
The brooms jerked unevenly as Ridcully turned a frown on him. “Really, you’re that young?”
“Yes, sir.” Ponder huffed out a sigh.
“Dark times.” He shook his head. “I was back managing the homestead, of course. Don’t like to think how it was at UU.”
“Er… bad, sir.”
“Right. I mean, I felt it all the same.” He sighed. “No one’s willing to talk about it now. All ashamed of themselves, I imagine. Suppose I don’t blame ‘em for whatever they might’ve done.”
“I just… I didn’t understand any of it, and it was terrifying.”
“I felt it,” Ridcully said again, his voice going distant. “I built me a tower up in the mountains. Rather short, but damn sturdy all the same. Probably still there. Started blasting spells all over the place. Like being drunk on magic.” He pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders. “Can’t say I’m proud of it.”
Ponder stared. No one talked about the sourcerer, and he’d never heard Ridcully admit to any sort of weakness or lack of control before. “I… I met him,” he volunteered quietly. “After it was all done. He was younger than me. He didn’t know what to do, he’d been… told what to do all his life by that staff. …But he didn’t stay long. That’s probably a good thing.”
“It most certainly is. The rest of the faculty are quick to change the subject or say they were out of town, but… well, dark times. I wouldn’t press ‘em about it. Bad enough for me, I wouldn’t dig up something like that for the rest of you.”
They rode in silence for a while.
“Er… why exactly am I going to dinner with your family, sir?”
“Y’know, Hughnon’s got his wife and kids, and our mum doesn’t take sides, and I thought it’d be nice not to be the only godless heathen meddling in dark arts I don’t understand for a change! Anyway, I imagine you could talk his ear off about those dark arts! And you’ve got to taste my mother’s vole loaf and scumble pie.”
“Scumble… pie?” He didn’t ask about the vole loaf.
“Mostly apples. It’ll put hair on your chest and keep you warm on a winter’s night.”
Ponder wasn’t sure if he should be excited or offended about the offer of hair on his chest. “You… invited me to your family dinner… to share a meal and meet your family?” he asked slowly.
“Look Stibbons, don’t be… a wizard about this. I know I’m not much for warm gooey feelings, but I’ve noticed you seem a bit low lately. A little outing is just what you need.”
“It’s… kind of you to try to improve things, sir…” Ponder bit his lip.
“Could go either way!” Ridcully slapped his back. “It very well might make things worse. Have to see when we get there!”
^ ^ ^
They touched down outside a cozy little manor house on a rolling hillside, with thick forest at its back.
“All the land around here is ours. Terrific hunting in these parts, and there’s a trout stream not far!” Ridcully rolled up the broomsticks in the carpet. “Come on, we beat Hughnon here.” He pulled Ponder inside with him. “Mum!” he boomed.
“Is that our Mustrum?” called a firm, reedy voice. Mrs. Ridcully was just pulling a big dish out of the oven. She looked ancient, but she still moved around with relative ease.
“Flew all the way here!” Mustrum said, throwing the bundle behind the door. “I know you won’t mind a guest.”
She put her dish on the counter, then turned and peered at Ponder with sharp eyes. “Is this your boy, then?”
“I’m… er, my name is Ponder Stibbons, madam.”
She walked over slowly, laughing, and clasped his hand too tight. “I was wondering when Mustrum would bring you by! He’s always talking about some clever thing or other you’ve been doing.”
“…What?”
The door opened and a swarm of children poured in, ranging from school-age to young adults. They were followed by Hughnon Ridcully, the high priest of Blind Io and head of the religious sects of Ankh Morpork, and his wife, whom Ponder had seen at an event once but didn’t know much about.
“Good to see you, Bethel,” Mustrum said, going over to hug the woman, then clapped his brother on the back. “Hughnon.”
“Mustrum. …You brought your boy? Now we’ll see if all the stories are true!” Hughnon winked at Ponder, who stared.
“So nice to meet you at last,” said the younger Mrs. Ridcully, coming over the hug Ponder. “Mustrum’s told us so much about you.”
“Don’t smother the boy,” Mustrum muttered.
“Wait, you’re Young Stibbons?” asked a teenage boy.
“Er… Ponder, actually.”
“Is it true you made a thinking engine?” asked a younger girl, leaning in.
“Well… yes.”
“And you’re the youngest wizard they ever hired?” asked an older boy doubtfully.
“No! No, I’m the youngest… faculty member currently, but I’m sure there’ve been younger ones in the past.”
“Do you need any more students?” asked a small boy hopefully.
“Leave the lad alone,” Hughnon said, shooing his children away. “Good to have you with us, Mr. Stibbons.”
“Oh, er… thank you.” He turned to the Archchancellor for help, but the older wizard had conjured up some glowing bubbles and the younger children were taking turns getting enveloped in a bubble.
“Who’s going to help me set the table?” asked Mrs. Ridcully the Elder, and the older children quickly moved to help. Ponder did the same, rather than being left with knowing smiles that knew something he didn’t. When the table was set and the food laid out, the two older men sat down on either side of their mother. She swatted gently at Mustrum. “Move down, let young Mr. Ponder sit here.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Ponder said hopelessly, but the archchancellor was gesturing and he slunk into the seat of honor.
For a while everyone ate, with most of the talking confined to the children at the other end of the table. Then a gnarled hand patted Ponder’s arm.
“Our Mustrum tells me you’re quite a clever lad. Can’t stop talking about how proud he is of you.”
“Oh, er… thank you?” Ponder’s voice rose uncertainly. He glanced quickly at the archchancellor, who was focusing on his slice of vole loaf.
“His father and I were very proud when he went off to the University, you know. Even prouder when they asked him to be the archchancellor. Both my boys are so talented.” She beamed at them. “And it’s just lovely to see him inspiring you young wizards to keep up the fine old traditions of the craft.”
“Er –“
Mustrum cleared his throat. “Stibbons isn’t much for fine old traditions, Mother. He’s busy every day making new discoveries.”
“Well what were you always doing when you were his age? Finding new ways to do things! Only it sounds like his are a bit more useful!” She cackled. Ponder’s ears reddened.
“Yes, well, if the next generation’s not doin’ better than you, you’re not doin’ good enough for ‘em! Isn’t that right, Hughnon?”
“Certainly.” The elder brother beamed out over his family.
“They know I’m not your son, right?” Ponder hissed in the archchancellor’s ear.
On his other side, Mrs. Ridcully patted his knee. “It takes all sorts to make a family, dear.”
He stared at her. All around him people were eating and talking and laughing, but it was just a dull roar in his ears. She was still speaking, but he’d stopped listening for a moment.
“…And of course I’d’ve loved my boys even if I hadn’t birthed ‘em. Would’ve been a damn sight easier on me if I hadn’t, they’re both big lads!” She laughed and shook her head, then pushed the corn pudding towards him. “Have some more, we don’t send anyone away from the table hungry! Mustrum, are you feeding the boy enough? Look how skinny he is, it’s a disgrace!”
“I’m thirty-four,” Ponder murmured, but this was ignored. He did eat a bit more, though. And the scumble pie was incredible, and only for the adults, who sat back and waited for the world to stop spinning before they had another slice.
^ ^ ^
“You’re sure you don’t want to stay the night?” asked Mrs. Ridcully as they started packing up. “I don’t like the idea of you flying at night, Mustrum, and your boy’s asleep on his feet! And you know how dangerous the roads can be at night, Hughnon!”
“We have Io’s blessing and guidance,” the high priest assured her.
“I’ve done this flight for years, I could do it dead drunk with a sack over my head,” the archchancellor scoffed. “Probably have, a few times.”
She swatted him as he went to hug her. “Mustrum, you take this seriously! I won’t outlive my boys, you understand?” She turned and poked Ponder, who flinched awake. “You keep an eye on him, you hear?”
“Y-yes ma’am.”
“Good.” She was all smiles again, and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Wonderful to meet you at last, dear. You’re welcome here any time.”
Bethan came over to do the same. “You should come visit our home some time, we’d love to have you. If you can stand the inquisition!” She laughed, nodding at the children.
“Er… thank you…”
They hustled out the door, and Mrs. Ridcully waved at the coach and the broom-carpet until they were out of sight.
Ponder watched the distant lights of Ankh Morpork as they flew through the night. “…Did you tell them I was your son?” he asked slowly. The scumble in the pie had been diluted, but he still felt fuzzy and warm.
“Can’t say I did.”
“But…” Ponder paused to corral his errant thoughts. “But you… talked about me.”
“Might’ve, yeah.”
“You said… you were… proud of me?”
“Well.” Ridcully cleared his throat loudly. “I’ve always said you do quite a bit of important work at the University.”
“…You told them that too?”
“Might’ve done. A few times,” the archchancellor admitted.
Ponder swallowed thickly. “I know I’m always annoying you and the others.”
“Well, it’s good for us.” Ridcully laughed. “You’re shaking up the place. After the sourcerer… magic needed to change. And you’re on the cutting edge of that. Course I’m proud, why wouldn’t I be?”
The younger wizard hugged himself tightly and sniffled a little.
Ridcully reached over and patted Ponder more gently than usual (possibly to avoid sending him hurling down to a horrible death). “I see you workin’ harder than all those damn fools put together. You could probably do the job of twenty of ‘em. Gotta know when to take a break, though. Gotta see what’s beyond the walls sometimes. In fact, I was thinkin’ I haven’t gone on a hunting trip in a while…”
“Please don’t take me hunting, Archchancellor,” Ponder mumbled, and sniffled again.
“Can’t do next week, but maybe the week after. Better find you a good crossbow too. Or would a fishing trip be better?”
Ponder swallowed thickly. “…Fishing, probably.”
“Good! I’ve got some extra poles you can borrow. We’ll go hunting later, autumn’s better for that anyway. How’s that sound, son?”
It sounded awful, but Ponder didn’t protest. Possibly because the scumble pie was suddenly rebelling in his stomach. He closed his eyes and started mapping out HEX in his mind, but found himself thinking of a crowded home full of warmth and good food…
He woke up in his own bed the next day, with his shoes one the floor and a nasty taste in his mouth. The previous night was still clear in his pounding head. It wouldn’t be the worst thing to go back to the little mountain home again, or even to the high priest’s home… or, yes, maybe even on a short fishing trip if no alternative presented itself…