The bicycle cruised down the bayside promenade. Ynés would stop to pedal every so often, out of habit, but for the most part it followed the path set by the navigation spell.

"Seems like a terribly long way to go just for a bite," remarked Otts.

"The Fairgrounds levy such a massive fee on concessionaires that it's not even worth eating on the premises," said Ynés. "The food carts near the Basilica are a much better deal."

"Makes sense," said Otts. "I'm just pleased not to be having instant Whampoa noodles and garuda eggs again. That's like our staple meal in the dormitory."

"How cliché!" said Ynés. "With the amount you pay for tuition, you'd think they would serve heartier meals."

"It's higher education, not a resort. They're under no obligation to minister to our taste buds," said Otts. "Besides, I stay in Paracelsus, the basic dorm. None of the usual boarding school trappings."

At that point, they cycled past a large mob of scruffy hooligans doing tricks on their levitation planks. Several 'tators flipped off the edges of the benches. Others were grinding their planks on the railings atop the seawall. One of them suddenly went off balance, nearly crashing into the velocipede. Ynés rang the buzzer and scowled at the wayward 'tator.

"Dumb kids!" she said. "Speaking of which, I hear it gets rather manic on campus. Transmuting aqua into vino. Bacchanals in the priories. Summoning daemons for kicks. Or some such..."

"Is that really what people think?" asked Otts with a laugh. "Well, first of all, I never pledged to any Order, so I can't speak for what happens in the priories. But I can tell you it's mostly just pupils sneaking sigarilyo breaks between tracts."

"Do you smoke?" she asked.

Otts paused to consider the right answer. He never really cared for it but he didn't want to appear like a self-righteous prude.

"Hey, it doesn't really matter to me," said Ynés. "I was just going to ask you to roll me one. But if not, then it's no big deal."

"Aye, I usually just take strolls when things feel pressured," said Otts. "It's actually quite serene on campus, especially on Sabbaths. Sometimes I'll make up excuses about group scholastics or conclaves, just to avoid going to my family's place in Nova."

"I take it you don't get along with your folks?"

"Oh, we're alright," said Otts, "But I can only take so much of the drama between them. Especially the last few months. Part of me wishes they would just void their union already."

Ynés gave Otts a sympathetic nod, a tacit okay for him to keep venting. "My pater's firm handles sea cargo. Business has slumped ever since dirigible freight started becoming more affordable, so now he has an excuse for his moods."

"Ack! Hassle," said Ynés. "That can't be pleasant."

"Well, it's never been shouting matches. Just plenty of thinly veiled barbs and low-key mutual contempt," he said. "Feels like it's been that way as long as I can recall. It's been all downhill since my first year at grammar school."

"What happened?"

"They figured that having another child would improve their marriage," said Otts. "That didn't go so well."

"I'm so sorry," said Ynés.

"Don't be," said Otts. "Francesca was born with hemobane. Even if she'd lived, treating her would have cost all of us our quality of life."

"That's harsh!" said Ynés. "She was your sister! A real person!"

"Believe me, I've considered the values," said Otts, "Let's say there was a medical breakthrough – an exponential leap in our understanding about how plasma disorders work. It would still take annos for clinical trials before any remedies were cleared for public use. In the meantime, we'd be paying for humor care, blood-letting, apothecaries... maybe even a stay-in physician, if we could afford it. We'd have gone bankrupt just trying to keep her stable."

Ynés wasn't sure what to make of Otts' rationalization. All that mental energy convincing himself that what happened was for the best! Fortunately, she had an out.

"Do you smell that?" sheasked, as the odor of mousedeer tallow wafted from a sizzling vat. "My stomachis ready!"