“Cerce’s Extract Infuser, though considered a compound spell, is more a series of spells used in the process of enchanting the extract into the globes. Even so, it is instructive. The first part of the spell is a passive sub-spell. It makes the globe somewhat permeable, and with the help of certain components of the cleaning solution in which the globe was washed, it allows the light moss extract to enter the globe.”
Aeron nodded absently as he read the first part of the spell in the apprentice book, comparing it to what the magic master was weaving around the globe. It definitely made sense to him. He could see how the spell relaxed the glass of the globe, its structure, made it looser. He also realized that the globe was now extremely delicate due to the effect of the spell.
“The next sub-spell is an active spell that slowly pulls the air out of the globe, allowing the created vacuum to gently draw the extract into the globe.”
Aeron was fascinated as he watched it being cast. It was a somewhat complex spell as it dealt with the various gases that made up air. He saw how adjusting the sub-spell just there would make the air explode out of the globe, which would have disastrous results for their current task. Master Doronal completed the sub-spell, and the globe slowly began sinking almost immediately, surrounded by bubbles of air and filling with the extract being pulled. Even before it was completely full, it sank below the surface. The last of the air continued to exit from the globe, bubbles rising to the surface as the globe sank invisibly in the glowing extract.
After a few moments when no more bubbles broke the surface, Master Doronal removed the second sub-spell and then looked at Aeron. “If we were to take the globe out now, it would work as it should. However, the glass is very fragile in this state, and even should it not break, the extract would slowly seep out of the globe over time, rendering it useless. The last sub-spell counters the first, making the glass non-permeable and strong again and locking the extract inside the globe.” He turned back to the pot and began casting the last part of the spell.
The globe could not be seen as it sat in its cage within the glowing opaque extract, but the spell and framework surrounding it were clearly visible to Aeron. He watched as Master Doronal cast the last sub-spell. Aeron could see how the spell would reverse the effects of the first, tightening up the glass and returning it to its previous state. Aeron noted that similarly to removing a spell, reversing a spell’s effects was not just a matter of casting it in reverse.
With the completion of the sub-spell, Master Doronal finished the full spell, closing it off. “As you can see, for compound spells like the cleaning spell and even one that can only be loosely considered a compound spell such as this one, we have to finish the spell, locking it off, so to speak.”
Aeron nodded, looking at the spell. “Yes, I also noticed it on the cleaning spell. That last part completes the spell, merging all the sub-spells.” The closing component, for it felt like a component to Aeron, was unique. It was a component, but it wasn’t. Once added, it transformed. It merged with the framework and became another structure that enclosed the spell, like frosting covering the layers of a cake, making it whole. Or like his skin, covering his body.
“Exactly. For relatively simple spells like these, the closer is simple. But for more powerful spells, there are more powerful closers and even openers.” Master Doronal raised the cage above the extract and let the excess drip. “Now that the transformation of the glass globe into a lightglobe is complete, we can remove the spell.” And he did so.
Aeron watched the lightglobe as it sat in its cage. The extract inside the glass sphere glowed as brightly as the excess dripping off the globe and the remaining extract in the pot.
“When you have memorized those two spells, we can test you on them.” Master Doronal rinsed the cage and lightglobe under the faucet, removed the lightglobe, and wiped it dry with a small towel. “And when you complete them, you can keep the lightglobe you make as a souvenir.”
After dinner, Aeron sat at his desk, leafing through the apprentice spell book, studying the cleaning spell. Willem and Sharrah would be over in a few minutes. As he waited for them, he decided to check his hunch about the closing component. He hadn’t yet had much chance to look at the book and didn’t remember seeing the component listed.
There, at the end of the cleaning spell was the notation indicating the closing component. That meant it should be listed along with the other components in their section. He flipped back to the appropriate spot, and there it was. He was right! It was a component. And as he had suspected, it was special. The description of it indicated it could only be used once per spell and only at the end to close it. He smiled smugly to himself and closed the book.
You seem very proud of yourself. Anaya poked her head through the doorway to her den and looked at him.
That, dear-heart, is because I am. I think I’m getting better at magic.
With me helping you study your spells, why would you not?
Aeron laughed. She did help him study. At least when she was awake. Along with its other amazing properties, their link allowed her to see spells he was concentrating on or casting. Many an evening as he cast frameworks for practice or went over a spell in his mind, she would help him. Sometimes even pointing out interesting parts of various spells and how some seemed to be related.
He stood, walked to her, and hugged her neck. Why wouldn’t I, indeed.
He was again taken aback by how big Anaya now was. She had grown a great deal in the last couple of months. Not even counting her tail, she was already longer than a horse. When she was lying down, if she had her head up, he could hug her neck without leaning over very much at all. And when she was standing, like now, she was almost as tall at the shoulder as a horse. He wondered how much bigger would she get.
You’re so much bigger now, he told her as he stroked her neck. If you were to run up to me and jump up on me like you used to, I might actually get hurt! He laughed.
I would never hurt you. She sounded a little shocked that he would even suggest such a thing.
I know you wouldn’t, dear-heart.
Anaya’s ears perked, and she turned to the door. They are here.
Aeron looked at her quizzically and then heard stomping at the shoe scraper. “How did you . . ?” He reached over and opened the door just as a knock sounded.
“Oh!” Willem said, surprised the door had opened just as he was knocking.
“Come in, come in.” Aeron motioned for them to come inside.
Sharrah smiled at him as she made one last kick at the scraper before quickly walking in. “Brrrrr!” she said, rubbing her arms before taking off her coat.
“You are not kidding,” Willem agreed. “The wind has picked up a bit, and it’s freezing out there.” He removed his coat as well, hanging it next to Aeron and Sharrah’s.
“Yeah,” Aeron said. “It makes me even happier that they put thermal conditioners in here. It would be very cold in these rooms and Anaya’s den without them.” He glanced at the conditioner that heated and cooled both his study and his bedroom. The tall metal structure sat next to the doorway between the two rooms. Through the door he could see the other half of the device, the one that conditioned his bedroom. Anaya had her own in her den.
“You and me both,” Willem said.
“Ooh! Do I smell hot cider?” Sharrah sniffed the air and walked over to a small kettle that Aeron had set on a hot plate. He smiled at her as she carefully opened the small lid. “It is!” She poured three mugs and handed them out.
“I figured we could all use some hot cider.” Aeron smiled and lifted his mug to his friends. They raised theirs in gratitude and sipped on the delicious and only slightly alcoholic beverage.
Sharrah walked to her coat and removed a small box from the pocket. She turned, smiled, and handed Aeron the box. “Happy birthing day, Aeron.”
Aeron’s face lit up. “Thanks!”
“Be gentle with it,” Sharrah cautioned.
Aeron glanc
ed at her, curious, then looked back at the box. He set his mug down and carefully opened the little package. Inside was some straw padding. He dug around in the straw, revealing a small glittering item.
Willem murmured appreciatively.
Aeron’s mouth opened in a large O. Slowly, being very, very careful, he removed the small glass statue. The little dragon seemed to wink at him as light glinted off its tiny eye.
“It’s beautiful!” Aeron said softly. He set the dragon down on his desk, gave Sharrah a big hug, and said, “Thank you.” He turned to Anaya. “Can you see it Anaya? It’s a little dragon!”
Anaya raised her head in the doorway and looked over at the little glass dragon. It is very pretty.
“She says it’s very pretty.”
Sharrah smiled. “I saw it when we stopped by the glassblower tent during the fair and went back and bought it later. I thought you would like it.”
“Oh, I do. It’s so delicate though. I will have to be very careful with it.” He moved the little statue closer to the center of his desk and away from the sides.
“And this is from me,” Willem said, holding out another small box. “Happy birthing day.”
Aeron’s eyes, bright and excited, locked on the box. He took it and carefully opened it. When he saw what was inside, he slowly sat down in the desk chair. “Oh, Willem, this . . . you shouldn’t . . .”
Willem smiled and said, “Go on, take it out.”
Aeron reached in and removed the gold dragon pin from the box. Tiny lances of light shot forth from the small dragon’s eye crystal as the pin sat on his palm. He closed his hand on the pin, looked up at Willem, then shot to his feet and gripped him in a fierce hug.
“Thank you,” he said, voice muffled by Willem’s shoulder. After a moment, he stood back, opened his hand and stared at the pin as it threw out the occasional glimmer of light. “I don’t know when you got this for me, but . . . thank you.”
“I saw how taken with it you were,” Willem said, “and I knew I had to get it for you.” He smiled at Sharrah, who was smiling at them both.
Aeron looked up from the pin and stared at Sharrah, then at Willem. “You two are the best, most awesome, most amazing people in the world.”
Willem smiled and grabbed his mug of cider, raising it in a toast. “To Aeron, the first dragonlinked. Happy birthing day to you.”
“Hear, hear!” cried Sharrah, her mug also raised.
Anaya let out a joyous rumble. Happy!
Aeron smiled as his friends drank to the toast. He looked down at the pin, and after a moment, he attached it to his left collar.
“I like it,” Willem said, looking from the Magic Craft pin on Aeron’s right collar, to the gold pin on his left. “Sorcerer and dragonlinked.”
Sharrah nodded. “Yes. I think it is appropriate.”
Aeron smiled, a little embarrassed, and said, “I suppose we should take Anaya’s measurements now.”
The measurements were completed quickly, Anaya moving from one measuring position to the next without prompting. She, along with the others, had performed the actions so often, the nightly procedure was now routine.
“How many notebooks are there now, filled with her measurements?” Aeron asked Sharrah as they walked back into the stable after weighing Anaya. Willem helped him quickly slide the large doors closed once everyone was back inside.
“This is number three,” she replied, removing her gloves and coat. “The amount of information going in them has lessened, however, due to there being fewer and fewer observations to include. It is taking longer to fill the notebook now.”
“There is still a lot of information going into the other notebooks, however,” Willem pointed out.
Aeron nodded. “Yeah. It’s amazing how much we can figure out from her memories. Those of her mother and grandmothers.”
Willem handed out refilled mugs of hot cider. “Here, to take the cold out of your bones.”
Aeron nodded, fingers wrapped around the warm mug.
They stood around for a bit, sipping the warm cider, enjoying the spiced drink.
“I hope that what Master Doronal suspects is true, “Aeron eventually said.
“Suspects?” Sharrah looked at him questioningly.
“About Lord Baronel’s plans for me and Anaya.”
“Having you help that girl—Millinith was it?—with the nahual investigation?” Willem asked.
“Yeah. Otherwise, I’m not sure what more we can contribute to the Caer. I just know that any day now I will be returned to chores because there isn’t anything else for me to do, for us to do.” Aeron looked at Anaya, lying in her den.
“Well,” Sharrah began, “there’s always what Trader Dellia mentioned—”
“No.” Aeron stared at his mug. “I already said that I do not want to risk Anaya’s life fighting those . . . things. I have not changed my mind.”
“If Master Doronal is wrong, I’m sure something will turn up,” Willem said. “It’s only been a couple of months. Give it time.”
Aeron nodded and finished his cider.
“You work too hard. Just watching you is making me tired.”
Jessip wiped his brow and turned to Ash, who stood behind him. As Jessip watched, Ash removed his cap and tossed it out the stall door revealing his light-brown hair, darkened here and there with sweat. Ash had a half-smile on his face and a shovel in his hand. Jessip growled at him, “Well, the sooner we finish, the sooner we will be out of this gods-cursed stink.”
Jessip looked down at the floor of the stall and twitched his nose. Now that they had worked past the clay soil layer in most of the stall and the sand layer below it was exposed, the smell of ammonia was very strong. The vents near the roof weren’t enough to clear that much smell quickly.
Ash blew out his nose to clear some of the stink. “I do hate replacing stall floors.” He returned to shoveling out clay soil that Jessip had loosened. When it was full, other workers would grab the wheelbarrow that Ash was filling and take it away, returning with an empty one.
“You’ve done this before?” Jessip asked. Ash had been Botany his whole life and was older than him by two years, so had more experience than Jessip at many of the tasks on a farm.
“Not here. Caer Baronel and The Farm are so new I think this is the first time these have been replaced. No, I did this at the last caer I was in.”
“Well, at least we are inside where it’s warm.” Jessip turned back to the area he was working on. He used the pointed end of the pickaxe to break up the clay surface of the stall floor. The floor was a layered mixture of clay soil, sand and crushed stone. The top layer had been compacted by about a year of horses walking, urinating and standing on it, so it had to be broken up before it could be shoveled out and replaced.
Once he was done working the last of the clay surface, he grabbed a shovel and helped Ash finish. Jessip watched how Ash was shoveling. He knew what he was doing, so Jessip copied his work. They were done soon after, the last wheelbarrow of foul clay lead away.
While they waited for the replacement materials to be brought, Jessip and Ash walked out of the stall and leaned against the wall, near the stall gate.
“Why do they make us do this in the winter anyway?” Jessip mused aloud.
“From what I gather, it’s to keep us busy in the winter. Much of the maintenance is done now, when we have little to do in the fields.”
“But why?”
“Ulthis loves idle hands, I think the saying goes.”
“The Trickster?”
“Yep. Can you imagine the mischief these guys would get into just sitting around all winter long?”
Jessip thought about it. “I suppose so.”
“Where’s the sand?” Assistant Proctor Marcus’ voice came from the far end of the stable.
Upon hearing him, Ash and Jessip quickly stood and watched as he approached down the aisle.
“They’re bringing it now, sir,” Ash said.
“Good. You two
did quick work.” Assistant Marcus eyed the stall through the door. “And good work as well. Nicely done.”
“Ash seemed to know what he was doing. I just followed his lead.”
Assistant Marcus glanced at Ash, nodding. “Well, getting the clay off without disturbing the other layers too much was the important part. Now we just top off the sand and lay down the new clay mixture.” He smiled wryly. “And when I say ‘we,’ I mean you two.”
Jessip smiled faintly. He had grown to like Assistant Proctor Marcus. He could be stern and gruff at times, but he was fair.
“Here’s the sand, Assistant Marcus,” said a worker as he made his way down the aisle with a wheelbarrow.
“Good. Now, we want a total of two inches of sand over the gravel layer, so add as much as needed to get it all to the right depth, starting at the back and moving to the door.” Assistant Marcus spent a few minutes explaining the work before he left them to it.
Ash grabbed the tools they would need and took them into the stall and Jessip followed with the wheelbarrow. They began spreading sand on the floor where needed, Ash measuring as they went along. The work wasn’t as grueling as removing the soil had been, but it still took them more time than Jessip had thought it would to get the sand on the entire stall floor to the depth required.
When they were done, Assistant Marcus, who had by then returned, nodded and said, “Well done. Now we need to add the top layer, the clay soil mixture. It needs to be about five inches deep. Do the same with the clay mixture as you did with the sand. Work in sections starting at the back, and when one section is done, move forward to do the next section. Tamp it all down after, and you’ll be done.”
Working with the clay mixture was harder work and took far longer. But eventually the floor of the stall was complete.
“And just think, this stall won’t need a new floor for a whole year,” Ash said, with not a small amount of sarcasm.
Jessip, pressing a hand to his lower back, said, “It would be nice if the floors lasted longer.”
“It would,” Ash agreed, nodding. “But then what would we spend the winters doing?”
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