The Witch Hunter's Gauntlet by Bret Schulte Read Free Book Online Page B

to her big toothy grin.
    “And now, I would like to introduce you all to our, uh, be nefactor and the Dean of Futuro University, Dr. Alistair Futuro,” she said as she stepped away from the podium.
    The whispering stopped the instant Dean Futuro appeared on stage.
    Sam had never seen anything like this man before. Dean Futuro had to be over ninety years old, possibly a hundred. He was horribly hunched over , relying on a cane to move around. The cane was slim and black; it sparkled with many gems and made a surprisingly loud thump on the stage as he approached the podium. His dark blue suit hung loosely on his skinny body. Sam had never seen a suit jacket with tails in real life. Combined with the top hat that sat atop his wispy white hair, he reminded Sam of a circus ringmaster or an elderly, broken-down Willy Wonka. Although, judging by his beaklike nose and beady dark eyes, she doubted he had ever been nearly as nice as Gene Wilder or as gorgeous as Johnny Depp.
    Principal Shepherd clearly didn’t know what to do. Part of her seemed to want to help Dean Futuro somehow and part of her wanted to stay as far away from him as possible. In the end she just wound up s tanding there with her arms out--ready to catch him if he fell--and then sat down when he reached the podium safely.
    Dean Alistair Futuro surveyed the silent crowd from under his wooly white eyebrows. No one made a sound.
    “Look at the person on your left,” he said in a cold , commanding voice. Sam looked to her left, as did a surprising number of the other students. “Now look to your right. One or both of these people will not make it to graduation.”
    A murmur of disbelief and anger roiled around t he auditorium. Sam saw one dark-haired boy three rows away who was smiling and nodding happily as he looked around at the other shocked students as if counting to himself which students were destined to dropout. He locked eyes with Sam. He smiled even bigger as he pointed at her and waggled his eyebrows. Sam looked away.
    “You have been told that you are here because you are special, that you are exceptionally talented in some manner. You need to be aware that everyone in the world is talented in some way and that you in fact are not special. All you are, every one of you, is lucky. Lucky that we started this new school and needed a few warm bodies to fill it. From this point on, the world will not be beating a path to your door. From here on out you must fend for yourselves.”
    Heads turned and mouths fell open across the room. As far as orientation speeches went it had to be the worst--not that Sam knew any others to compare it to, but still, it had to be way down the list. Sam half expected someone to get up and storm out. No one did, though.
    Slowly , a stunned Principal Shepherd got up from her chair. “Uh yes, thank you Dean…”
    Dean Futuro waved her off with his cane. Principal Shepherd sat back down, looking like a scolded child.
    Dean Futuro continued. “I must also remind you that Academy students are not allowed to prowl around on University property without faculty supervision. I insist on the strictest of security and anyone found skulking about will be dealt with harshly. That is all.”
    The auditorium was utterly silent except for the thumping of Dean Futuro’s cane on hard wood as he turned and slowly walked away. No one seemed to breathe again until he had finally disappeared offstage.
    Sure , he was massively creepy and severely overdramatic, but he had raised an interesting point in his extremely brief speech. Everyone else in the room had been selected to be here because they were good at something, supergood, but Sam was here because her family had been good at things. Sam suddenly realized that she was officially the least talented person in the room. She often felt this way, but it was entirely different to know it for sure.
    “Yes, thank you , Dean Futuro, those certainly were, uh, inspiring words,” Principal Shepherd