"My specialty?" Henry asked, laughing at the quaintness of the American word. "Hmm, I'd say ... swords. Though I've owned a dagger for a long time so she's become like an extension of my right hand."
Jay nodded. Henry noted with amusement that the boy's hand was still proffered for a handshake. Well, he wouldn't take it. His one and only friend was Phyllon, the dagger he had just told Jay about.
"Well, I'm going to find my room now," Henry said, breaking the silence during which Jay had been practically shaking in front of him. The young woman who had opened the door had told him where he could stay, as well as some rules which he hadn't really paid attention to, and he was eager to sharpen Phyllon in case he might need her.
Jay nodded once again.
"It was ... nice meeting you," he said nervously - and Henry's hearing detected every single quiver in the statement, which filled him with delight - before walking off.
Henry located the small room, smashed the bug in the bedside table instantly and wandered out onto the balcony to sit cross-legged and lovingly caress Phyllon's blade with a rock.
Henry thought this academy was wonderful so far. His peers were frightened of him, he'd have somewhere to sleep comfortably at night and he was going to learn more about murder.
He smiled down at Phyllon. "The cosmic forces are rewarding me, my darling. And you shall ever be my companion for aiding me. Thank you, dear."
He looked up at the stars, still sharpening Phyllon. Yes, they did appear to be twinkling. And the murderer's guardian angel, Luna, definitely looked brighter.
It was almost dawn when he retired. He didn't need a lot of sleep. He tucked Phyllon in the sheath on the belt which he very rarely removed. You could never be too careful.