William Calhoun and the Black Feather. Book I

Chapter 14 The teacher of Wizard History Refutation



One cold snowy December morning, William was sitting on the edge of his bed fully dressed, unfolded feathermap in his hand. He was ready to peregrine any moment, he was only waiting for the address of the Wizard History Refutation teacher to appear on his feathermap. He didn’t have to wait for long, soon the feathermap folded in quickly, then unfolded again with the new address added.

“Number 17, Missing Street!” William read the label on the feathermap, written in bright red letters. “So, another non-existing street!”

He brought his magic feather to the address, touching it, and peregrined to a snow-covered crossing of two streets. The street he needed was crowded with wizards and witches, who were wearing dark-grey clothes for some reason. They were carrying things of the same colour, and the houses on both sides of the street looked as if they were finished only an hour ago. All of this seemed rather strange to William. But, as it soon turned out, that wasn’t the only odd thing on this street. An elderly wizard in a fur hat slipped and fell not far from William, who headed towards him to help the man get up. But he was shocked to discover that the moment he had reached the place where the elderly wizard had been lying on the snow, there was nobody there. He saw undisturbed snow under his feet, bearing no traces of the event. Nothing indicated that there had been someone here, at this spot. William felt uneasy. He turned around and was relieved to see his own footprints where he had left them a moment ago. He was also horrified to find that this big street and the other one crossing it were completely empty now, though they were crowded a moment ago. Merchants by the entrances to their shops, inviting buyers in… children playing… carriages pulled by elks, and residents of the houses in windows… all of that was suddenly gone. And the noise of the street was instantly replaced by dead silence, interrupted only by the whistling of the winds, rushing towards each other. Suddenly, the Missing Street was filled with patter of hooves coming from a distance, but the next moment it was already behind William’s back. Trying to find the source of the noise, he turned around. The noise became louder and the next moment, a high carriage pulled by dark grey elks came from around the corner, the elks filling the lifeless street with their roar, and rushed straight at him. In a blink of an eye, the ghostly cab went right through him, then headed to another turn and disappeared, the street becoming empty and silent again. In other words, the Missing Street gave an impression of a street that hadn’t been visited by anyone for several years or even a century. He quickly looked around, searching for the house number and, almost at once, saw the number 17 sign, hanging sideways and slightly displaced by the wind. He speeded up, walked around the house and headed towards it. He saw footsteps on the path leading to the house and thought that those belonged to the enrolees hurrying to class. It reminded him that he had to move faster or he would have to explain his late arrival again. Soon, he reached the backyard of the house and almost immediately saw El, nervously walking back and forth and obviously waiting for someone impatiently.

“Finally!” he cried out. “Remember the saying, Will!”

“Hi, El!” William hadn’t completely recovered yet. “Which one?” he asked automatically.

“I don’t know! Something about speed!” El said grumpily, annoyed with his late arrival. “You’re crawling like my tortoise Wally I used to have!.. May I be trice enchanted, you even have similar names!” El was utterly surprised by his sudden discovery.

“Used to have? Were you practicing spells on it and killed it by accident?” William grinned.

They entered the house and were now quickly moving along the corridor, searching for the classroom.

“Nah! I quit practicing spells on the tortoise after I had nearly hit my mum’s head with her, when I wanted to throw her out of the window with a spell!” And he added quickly: “Not my mum, of course, Wally!”

“So you did throw Wally out! But why?!” William asked, seriously worried about Wally.

“She was a bit slow! Speaking about slow,” El remembered when they were walking up the stairs. “I get it that you get along with ivy guards and all that, but, buddy, we can’t keep coming into classroom with guilty faces and standing in the doorway for half an hour,” as they walked, El talked even faster than usual. “Speaking about ivy guards, have you noticed that, strangely enough, this place doesn’t have one?”

“I’ve noticed too many strange things in the Missing Street!” William replied, still not fully recovered after the street.

It was rather warm in the candle-lit corridor. Actually, inside the house it was hard to assume that it looked uninhabited on the outside. Hearing the voices of the enrolees coming from the last door to the right, they headed there. By the way, it was a rather cosy old-fashioned house. There were portraits on the walls everywhere and, judging by the clothes worn by wizards and witches depicted there, they had lived many years ago.

“My word! It’s hard to find a more fitting place for a teacher of Wizard History Refutation!” El remarked as he looked around.

“That’s right!” William agreed.

When they entered the last door to the right, they found themselves in a large room with soft carpets, lots of sofas, tables, bookshelves, and a large fireplace, which hadn’t known fire for a long time, judging by its perfectly clean condition. The room was gradually being filled with enrolees. The two friends took one of the vacant sofas. Then, a new group of enrolees entered the classroom and William noticed Ophella among them. He hadn’t had a chance to talk to her yet, because each time at the end of class, she hurried to peregrine home the moment she stepped into the backyard. When Ophella saw him, she let out an embarrassed “Hello!” and hurried forward. William, who was going to greet her back, didn’t have time to do it. That had amused El, who was watching their encounter.

“I could have said that it’s not the victory that matters, but taking part, but, unfortunately, you didn’t even have a chance to take part, mate!” he patted his friend on the shoulder, holding his smile back.

“Very funny!” William said with obvious frustration.

“Believe your old pal El, Will, the feathers in that bird’s head become thin when she sees you!” El said ceremoniously and added, clearly proud of his successful joke: “Which, in turn, affects the speed of her speech and walk in your presence!”

“Remember the saying, El!” William mocked him.

“Which one?”

“The one about ‘Shut up, El’!”

When everyone had gathered and sat chatting all together, mainly discussing their Featherology exam, there was a small but clear voice, which made everyone turn:

“Welcome to the Wizard History Refutation, enrolees!”

William, as well as the rest of the enrolees sitting in the classroom, were looking at the teacher of Wizard History Refutation with their mouths open. There was a ghost before them, tall, clad in long robes, with a slightly lopsided hat on his head.

“You,” stunned Roberta Brown addressed him, “are going to teach us History?”

“Its Refutation, to be exact!” the newcomer corrected her and added with a rather sweet smile. “Surprised?”

There came awkward silence. Seeing the enrolees’ reaction caused by his appearance the teacher hurried to explain:

“The fact that History will be taught to you by a ghost, Miss…”

“Roberta Brown…” she said with some fear, quickly adding: “Sir…”

“…Miss Brown,” he continued, “to my ghostly mind, is nothing of the ordinary. Who else should be teaching history to the living but the witness of the past events?” He smiled again, then said: “I’m Professor James Welbeck, and I’ll be teaching you Wizard History Refutation! These classes will last for two months, and during this period of time you are going to study information given in the textbook at home, and then we’re going to refute this information in class! Thus, by the end of the classes, you will know which events really happened in the wizard history and which of them only exist in the books! Any questions?” he looked around the class and noticed Fergus, who had his hand up. “Yes, please, Mister…”

“Fergus Connelly, Professor! Why not just write a new book with true historical information instead of correcting mistakes in the old one?”

“Mister Connelly, history,” Professor Welbeck suddenly started floating slowly along the walls back and forth, “isn’t a subject for reading or a science that can be explained on paper with formulas or words! The task of the enrolees in the Preparatory Course isn’t to read it, but to…” he paused, “to become its witnesses!”

Seeing their puzzled expressions, Professor Welbeck clarified:

“Yes, you’ve heard me right! Witnesses! We’re going to travel back in time, where you’ll be able to get your own opinion about different events of the wizard history and to find the difference between the version given in the textbook and the real one. It’s a sort of peregrining back in time and the History textbook will be our feathermap!” He gave them his distant smile again. “This is the only way for wizards to get their own opinion and knowledge about history, Mister Connelly.”

“Excuse me, Professor,” William spoke up suddenly, “do you mean that it is possible to go to any period of time and with our own eyes see the things many chroniclers of that time preferred to hide from us?”

“And you are?” Welbeck asked, raising his chin.

“Calhoun, Sir. William Calhoun!”

“Calhoun?” Professor Welbeck suddenly gave him such a LOOK that made everyone in class turn to William, making him feel the familiar unpleasant sensation again.

“Yes, Sir…” he said in confusion.

“Curious!” Welbeck remarked as if he was trying to solve a puzzle right now, then he waved it off and said: “Oh well! So, Mister Calhoun, nobody is able to go to any period of time! We will only travel back in time to analyse history! Your task in the classes of Wizard History Refutation is to get the grades you need by the end of them. Thus, answering your question, I can say that the events described in the textbook, which you are going to refute, are not beyond the information you aren’t supposed to know in your age.”

“So, how’s the exam going to go?” Roberta Brown asked, her voice still unhappy.

“At the exam, you will get questions about the time travels based on the material you’ll see during our classes!”

Such approach to studying the subject seemed rather strange to William, but, frankly, it also seemed simple and reasonable. “Indeed,” he thought, “what’s the point in retelling things the students can learn from a textbook, while reading it before sleep or over a mug of hot chocolate at home. It’s silly to be coming here every day for two months just for simple retelling. Yeah, at demit school History wasn’t the subject for practical sessions. It’s so different here!” In other words, he found the method of studying History described by Professor Welbeck rather attractive and interesting.

At the first lesson, Professor Welbeck simply gave them the task to read the big first chapter at home. And they were going to refute the information given there in their next lesson, during their journey to the times of the events described in that chapter. William was thrilled with this kind of History. Before, it seemed to be a rather boring subject to him, but now he was really looking forward to refuting an event from the textbook.

At the end of the lesson, Welbeck said:

“In order to refute anything, you need to study the subject of refutation really well. So, read chapter one ‘The creation of wizard community and formation of aristocracy in it’ very attentively. Class dismissed! See you tomorrow!” he said slowly, then, just, as slowly turned in the air and entered the wall unceremoniously.


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