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Students poured out. Some laughed. Some looked down and remembered their question paper, already re – answering questions in their heads as if the paper would change if they thought of a better answer. Some walked like men who had lost a small war with themselves and were trying not to show it. Fizz's little fan club of first year students passed in a small wave, heads up, eyes searching the air for a glow that was not there. One of them said, "Where did he go?" Another said, "He said he is a mystery now," and they all took that as a reasonable thing for a small glowing being to say.
"Where is the boy and the orange spirit," Edda murmured. Her mouth did not move much. "The boy. The ball. I can't see them."
"Maybe Inside," Brann said. "Somewhere doing something." He did not look at her. He kept his eyes on the gate. "The old ones must have held him. Or he had gone there for his protection." He meant teachers. He meant trouble. He meant clients.
