Icaerys Academy

“Erin, I’m considering the options for your schooling next year,” my father said succinctly, for once setting down his paper.  This was a bit of a surprise.

“I thought Oakwood was –”

“Oakwood is a very good school, that’s true,” he admitted.  “But I thought you’d want to hear about an alternative that has just opened up.”  I leaned forward, and for once, no one told me to take my elbows off the table.

“The place is named Icaerys Academy.  It’s a secure, state-run institution with an excellent reputation for the arts and sciences.  Some of its graduates go on to be published scientists, best-selling writers, and lead operatives.”

“Is it a military academy?”

“Do you think I’d send you to one of those?”  He sucked in air through his teeth.  “No, I thought you needed a few years to determine what you’d want to study.  Icaerys have got some of the most highly skilled professors of any high school I’ve ever seen, and the headmistress has a list of credentials longer than mine.”

“If it’s so great, why would they want me?”  I hadn’t worked particularly hard in school. My teachers said I lacked motivation; I said they lacked imagination.

“Because you’re my son,” my father said flatly. “And that’s all you need to know about it.”

I took him at his word.

Somebody at the school must have committed fraud, or lied in their paperwork, and my dad had made it vanish.  Was he making me vanish?