Page 100 of Academy of the Wicked, Year Two

Elena's words echo through memory once more:

Pay mercy to the cat that will crave your company.

The instruction feels increasingly specific rather than metaphorical, with direct reference to Zeke rather than an abstract concept. His feline qualities, protective intervention against Damien, introduction to the Abundance Tree — allsuggest he represents the next step on the path toward both the chalice and whatever knowledge I've apparently forgotten.

With careful movements designed not to disturb his rest, I extract my small notebook from the inner pocket and begin listing connections between available information.

Chalice – created by Headmaster – a gift from partner – stolen by Fae – precipitated Year Two restrictions

Capabilities – healing – wish granting? – hybrid aspect selection

Current location – somewhere within the academy – possibly connected to Stellarum Archive

Zeke – "homeless street cat" – can see through glamour – knows about Abundance Tree – "catalyst"

The last entry pauses my hand, pen hovering above the paper as I recall his cryptic self-description from our conversation near the tree.

"I'm a catalyst. Just like you."

What could he possibly mean by comparing us in such specific terminology?

Catalyst suggests chemical reaction, transformation accelerated by presence without being consumed in the process. The implication that we share this quality raises questions about my role in events unfolding around us.

Am I merely seeking the chalice, or participating in something larger that requires catalytic presence to progress?

Zeke shifts again beneath the jacket, this time with more purpose that suggests imminent awakening rather than simple repositioning. His eyes open gradually, unfocused at first before sharpening with returning consciousness. The vertical pupils contract rapidly in the classroom's ambient light, adjusting with efficiency that further emphasizes his non-human nature.

Confusion flickers briefly across his features as he registers the weight and warmth of my blazer, hands rising to touch the fabric with questioning fingers before comprehension dawns.

He sits upright with sudden embarrassment, cheeks flushing with color that stands out vividly against his natural pallor.

"I fell asleep," he states unnecessarily, voice rough with lingering drowsiness. "During class."

I nod, maintaining a neutral expression rather than indicating either amusement or judgment.

"Professor Valerian assigned a group project while you were napping," I inform him, deliberately casual to minimize his evident embarrassment. "We need to produce an aerial image of the academy with at least one of us in the picture."

He blinks several times, processing this information while carefully folding my blazer and returning it with meticulous neatness that suggests respect for possessions beyond ordinary teenage consideration.

"I'm sorry," he offers, genuine contrition coloring his tone. "You should have woken me instead of letting me sleep through the assignment."

I accept the returned blazer with a casual shrug that dismisses his concerns as unnecessary.

"You obviously needed the rest," I respond, sliding arms back into sleeves with practiced ease. "Besides, we still have plenty of time. Professor gave us one hour from when we leave this room, and everyone else has already gone."

Zeke's expression shifts from embarrassment to calculation, those extraordinary eyes narrowing slightly as he considers the implications.

"So we can take a few minutes to plan while they're all rushing around without strategy," he concludes, an unexpected smile transforming his features with quiet delight. "That's actually advantageous."

I find myself returning his smile, appreciation for strategic thinking overriding usual caution about forming new connections.

"Exactly. Most of them ran off to the library based on Damien's suggestion about finding historical images."

"But we need to appear in the picture ourselves," Zeke adds, demonstrating he's quickly grasped the assignment's key complication despite having slept through its presentation. "Which means we need actual aerial vantage point rather than historical documentation."

The rapid assessment confirms the earlier impression of intelligence beneath his sometimes timid exterior. Whatever Zeke's limitations might be, lack of cognitive ability certainly isn't among them.

"So how do we get an aerial view of the academy?" I pose the question directly, curious about his approach to problem-solving. "Any ideas?"

---