Seventeen Stones

by Vanessa Wells

  “Botany” he said as he padded across the greenhouse with less stiffness than Mia would have predicted considering his obvious age “is the study of the natural wonders of our world. Over the course of the next three years we will cover the herbs most commonly used for potion making, food plants and their proper care and feeding, and the most dangerous specimens that you will be likely to encounter unless you take it into your head to go traipsing off into the Western desert, or into the heart of Forestreach.” He chuckled a little at the implausibility of that.

  “Furthermore, those who possess the talent for aiding growth will learn how to help beneficial plants” he flicked his wand and a flower burst into full bloom. “And kill deadly, irritating, and harmful plants.” Another flick and an oily looking bush in one corner withered and died. Mia was impressed. She hadn’t really thought that being wanded would aid growth magic to that extent.

  “But for now, who can tell me what these are?” He pointed at trays of seedlings on a wooden table. Mia’s hand was up first. “They’re valerian seedlings.” She said this with some certainty, having harvested the plant herself many times. The professor nodded. She continued. “We use them in potion making when they’re around a year old, the roots can be dried and steeped to make a mild tea for people who are suffering from troubled sleep, or they can be dried, pulverized, concentrated and powdered, to be used in a sleeping potion. The sleeping potions have to be brewed very carefully because each plant has a slightly different level of potency. The brewing has to be monitored carefully; using too much can cause the person who drinks the potion to sleep for a couple of decades. They’re normally not very happy when they do wake up, since unlike a hundred year sleeping draft, an overdose of valerian sleeping potion doesn’t retard aging.”

  Professor Cavendish beamed at her. “Excellent my dear! Do I know your people? You sound like you come from healer stock.” Mia blushed. “Um, I don’t know if you knew my mother before she died, but my guardian is Emma Faithling of Forestreach village.” The professor seemed pleased. “Ah, yes, I order several bundles of rare herbs from her every year. Troll’s Feet Mushrooms simply refuse to grow in a greenhouse, no matter how talented or clever the gardener might be.” He looked at the rest of the class. “Today we’ll just be repotting the seedlings and adding a pre-measured amount of water.” He grinned conspiratorially at Mia. “That’s one of the secrets to commercial sleeping potions; rigidly controlling the water leads to a more even distribution of potency in the plant, making the production of sleeping potions much less likely to have, shall we say, dissatisfied customers… Note that the soil is somewhat sandy…”

  They spent the rest of the class re-potting the plants. Mia’s well-practiced hands managed twice as many as anyone else. While they were washing up, the Professor pulled her aside. “My dear, I wonder if you would be willing to work on special projects for me during this class.” He was pruning a small snapfinger plant as he asked. “I’m afraid I have something of a dilemma this semester. This position entails a great deal more than teaching. I’m personally responsible for every nut and bulb that goes from the college greenhouses into the City stores.” He finished the plant, expertly pulled his finger away before the tiny thing extended a very large set of teeth and snapped at the air where his finger had been: he picked up the next snapfinger pot from the rough wooden table. “We grow many of the potion ingredients that the City government uses here as part of the Colleges tithes, as well as the fresh foodstuffs we use in the kitchens. I have a great deal of ‘extra work’ in harvesting and caring for plants outside of my teaching duties. I normally round up a few of my better students and ask if they would mind. Would you be interested?” Mia hesitated briefly, and then agreed. It wouldn’t do to irritate the professor on the first day of class.

  The chimes rang. She smiled at Professor Cavendish, grabbed her book bag, and rushed to join the others. She whispered the news to the girls as they walked to the Alchemy building, down six flights of stairs and into a cavernous room. If the walls hadn’t been as smooth as glass and perfectly plumb, Mia would have been inclined to call it a cave. The walls were the same gray stone indigenous to the City, and the tables sprang up like giant mushrooms, seemingly carved from the floor itself. Someone had done quite a bit to spruce it up: red and gold tapestries hung at intervals along the walls, there were three enormous golden chandlers hanging from the tall ceiling. The girls quickly claimed an empty table and started unpacking their heavy cauldrons, bundles of herbs, and bottles of ingredients.

  The plump, red-headed Professor from Mia’s testing bounced in just as the chimes rang. She looked around and noticed that the tables were filled and clapped her hands excitedly. “Oh good! It’s so nice to see all of you in my class! All of you have your supplies and cauldrons then?” Head nodding ensued. “Excellent. You’ll find a cubby for supplies below each table, if all of you would take a moment and stow your ingredients neatly in the desks, we’ll get started.” She gestured with her wand the way some people talk with their hands, and cubbies appeared out of the bare stone.

  One boy started stuffing his supplies haphazardly into the space, only to have the entire contents flung back at him with equal force. The Professor eyed him sharply. “I said stow them neatly! In Alchemy, it’s very important to be able to find the correct ingredient at a moment’s notice. In fact, I recommend pulling out all the components for a potion before you begin. That way, you can run and go get some belladonna or extra pickled hen’s teeth if you’ve run low.”

  After the cacophony died down she beamed at the class again. “Now then, I do hope you like your seat mates because this will be your assigned seating for the rest of the year, unless someone blows up the room again of course.” She absently scratched the side of her nose. “Before we begin, let me introduce myself: I’m Professor Ambrose, Rosy Ambrose if you happen to catch me outside of class.” She smiled sweetly. “Alchemy or higher potions, is the study of the interaction of various materials both magical and mundane under specific circumstances. For those who advance, we’ll be spending third year learning how to infuse potions with magic, create an invisibility draught, flying concoction, and a bunch other fiddly, complicated potions.” She twisted her fingers in a series of little arcs as she spoke. “I can teach you how to turn lead into gold, but 90 years ago Greatlady Winifred Quince developed the precious metal mining charm, and since then the alchemical process to change lead into gold has been more expensive than mining it.”

  “A word of caution: To advance in this class requires hard work and study, as well as attention to detail. Fail to pass the end of year test, and you will not be progressing to the next level. There’s a very good reason for this. You absolutely must have a firm grounding in the basics of potion making before you can advance.” Her sweet voice took on a sharp edge. “Students have produced explosions and fires in this class, deadly clouds of vapors and pools of goop that would melt through solid rock. There hasn’t been a single casualty since I took up the teaching post, and I expect to keep it that way.” She looked at each of them in turn.

  “Now if you’ll open your books to page sixty-three, I think you’ll find that we have plenty of time to concoct a rudimentary runny nose remedy. I find that this potion is a good way to test everyone’s standard. The best of them can go to Mrs. Bennett at the infirmary to do some good, and the worst of them make excellent plant food for Professor Cavendish’s plants.”

  An hour later, Mia decocted her potion into a large blue bottle and put it on the Professor’s desk. Professor Ambrose smiled and did a complicated twist with her wand. “You infused the potion with just a tiny bit of magic! I normally start my third year students with that. When we spoke at your testing, I believe you mentioned that your guardian was the healer for Forestreach?” Mia nodded. The professor continued. “Did you help with the potion making at all?”

  Mia grinned. “Since I was old enough to see over the cauldron; at least I think she waited until I could see ov
er it. We made potions to sell on market days, Cough potions, runny nose remedy, eye opener potion for the older people in the village. Everything from scented, milk-based soap for weddings to the heavy lye stuff we used for cleaning out the cauldron between potions. She even has a special recipe for a hair regeneration potion that’s a perennial favorite with the men in Forestreach.”

  Rosy Ambrose laughed. “I may have to order a bottle of that. My father is as bald as an egg now but he used to have a full head of hair in this exact shade.” She twirled a short curl around her fingertip. “In fact, I sometimes wonder if he might not have had some help going bald. He hated this color.”

  One of the boys brought his phial up and she did the same complicated twist with her wand. A pained expression crossed her face and she held the bottle with two fingers, carefully away from her body. She wrinkled her nose at the offending brew and looked back at Mia as she cautiously put the bottle on the furthest corner of her desk. “Tell you what. You take that book, and this one,” she said, nodding at the first year text Mia was clutching to her chest and handing her a second year text “and go through and find anything you haven’t tried before or would like to try again.” She eyed the boy’s glutinous potion with distaste. “It’s going to take a lot of work to get the others up to standard. No reason you can’t learn something in the meantime.”

  Vivian practically crowed with triumph as they left the class. “I can’t believe it! Special lessons in the first two classes! Is your father the Magus or something?” Mia laughed a little uneasily, realizing that she hadn’t told her friends that her mother had been a Greatlady. She’d been silent while they talked about their families. With six girls in the room, no one had seemed to notice. She opened her mouth to remind the others that helping Professor Cavendish wasn’t exactly a ‘special’ class for her benefit. Sarah rescued her. “Of course not, for once it’s not about bloodlines. Mia’s been gathering herbs and making potions every day of her life until a few weeks ago. We would see her every market day, sitting at the booth with piles of dried herbs and mysterious bottles. I always thought it was much more interesting than endless art lessons and embroidery.” Mia shrugged. “I’ve been gathering herbs since I was three, and making potions for sale at least four years, without supervision. I guess I’ve been taking Botany and Alchemy most of my life.”

  Ella smiled as they headed toward the dorm for lunch. “Botany wasn’t bad, I grew up on a farm so I can tell one plant from another, even though Mum didn’t keep a lot of herbs, but I’ll be glad to have your help with Alchemy. My father brewed most of the potions we used, most of them were also horse cures, but they worked pretty well on humans too. He let my brother John help sometimes, but I never did.” She dimpled the way she always did when she was talking about her family.

  “All of those green leafy things look alike to me.” Sarah growled with evident dislike. “I doubt I could tell the difference between grass and flowers if we hadn’t covered it in art class.” Lizzy nodded and glanced down at her nails. She obviously didn’t care for getting dirt under them.

  Mia raised her eyebrows. “I always wondered what they had all of you doing in the Home. I didn’t want to ask…” Sarah grinned. “Nothing useful. Art lessons, dance instruction, embroidery, and worst of all, a class called charm. It had nothing at all to do with wand work.” She gave a terribly un-lady-like snort and a theatrical shudder. “They barely allowed the girls outside to paint insipid watercolors, and mine were more insipid than most.” That explained why she’d seen Martin so frequently and Sarah so rarely.

  Sarah’s description of life in a home occupied them all the way back to the dorms and through lunch. She was the only one who could remember living in one of the elite warehouses for magically gifted progeny. Her colorful descriptions had the girls desperately trying not to laugh at the wrong moment. Lizzy zinged one-liners every once in a while Sarah’s wicked irony had Mia holding her sides before lunch was over. It was hilarious, and yet…it wasn’t. Mia privately thought that her mother had been correct to send her to Emma’s: even milking the goat was better than being trapped in a Home.

  When she wasn’t laughing, Mia enjoyed the meal, and watched in quiet awe as each girl was served perfectly prepared luncheon on delicate china that floated through the air. As they finished each course, the plate was whisked away and replaced with the next. How much magic would it take to set that spell? The most amazing thing was that it was accepted by everyone in the room as a matter of course. Ella was eyeing the plates out of the corner of her eye, but none of the others seemed to find it odd in the least.

  Mia and Ella left the dining area for Creation, but not before Ella had snagged an apple from the basket piled high beside the doors. Mia giggled. “You can’t still be hungry!” Ella shook her red curls. “No, but I might be after Creation.” Mia ran back and quickly grabbed an apple for herself as well. Magic was hungry work.

  Creation met in building four. The room had the smell of a place that had been empty for some time. A window was open on the far side of the room, and Mia made a beeline for it. She’d spent too many years in the open air to feel comfortable in such a musty dusty place. Most of the students filling the room were second year boys.

  Ethan Fain entered the room as the chimes sounded. He was wearing a crisp new suit and a spotless white shirt and cravat. He looked a bit more formal than the other professors had, more like a young lordling than a teacher. She supposed that it must be difficult to teach third year students when they might well remember you from school.

  “Welcome” he said in a quiet voice. “Put your wands away please. I believe that there are a few things I should explain before we begin.” He waited until every wand was stowed in a pocket before he continued. “Creation is perhaps the single most difficult class taught at this college. Application and study are imperative for even the most talented person to excel. The process of Creation is vital to the continuation of the City as we know it, and for those who have the talent and perseverance to learn this skill set, the rewards are well worth the time and effort. For those who make mistakes…”

  He turned to his desk and tapped a book with his wand. A tiny tornado whirled over the book for a few seconds, and then a series of shimmering pictures were projected onto the whirling partials of dust.

  At first the students giggled. It was hard not to. One man had accidentally created a waistcoat made of moss. Another had a wig that was a ghastly shade of puce. The images soon became more graphic, depicting messy transformation and more blood than even Mia was comfortable with. Ella was hiding her eyes. The Professor tapped the book again and the tornado faded back into the book, taking the grisly images with it.

  His dark blue eyes scanned the class. “Mistakes in this class can be deadly. If I ascertain that a mistake was caused by a lack of the proper focus, the student will leave this class and will not return.” If some of the young wand wielders had been hoping that he would take it easy on them simply because he was so new to teaching, they didn’t harbor the same illusions after that speech. Satisfied that most of the students believed his warning, he padded to his desk and sat down. “Turn to page six in your books. Can anyone give me the definition of Creation?”

  Mia’s hand was up almost before he finished the sentence. There was no class she was more determined to do well in. He gave her a ghost of a smile before nodding in her direction. She took a deep calming breath and ignored Martin Ainsley in the back, exaggerating her movement to the quiet twittering laughter of his friends. A sharp look from the professor and the class was perfectly silent again.

  “Creation is actually an advanced form of Transfiguration. The phrase most often used is ‘out of thin air’ and it gives us a hint to the magic’s true nature. A wand wielder with the proper focus can actually cause the particles in the air to rearrange themselves into the newly created object.” Her answer was nearly a perfect quote from the third chapter in the text book.

  A persistent tic in the co
rner of the professor’s mouth led Mia to believe he was fighting off a full grin with difficulty. “Aptly quoted, Miss Rusticov.” He flicked his wand at the desk and produced the peculiar focus required for Creation. A small crystal goblet appeared. He used the multiplying charm and soon had enough for each student to have one. Creation was the subject that most fully integrated every aspect of magic. The students carefully levitated the goblets to their desks.

  The professor gave them a detailed explanation of the exact wand movement necessary, demonstrating with his own wand in slow motion. “I want you to concentrate on filling the goblets with created water.” A hand went up in the rear of the class. The boy asked “Professor, is this the same thing as a water charm?” He jumped at the look the professor shot him. “That is the sort of question that should get you expelled. It shows a complete lack of understanding of the magical laws that govern our world, and an almost willful ignorance of the very nature of magic.”

  He glared at the class. “What is the difference between a water charm and created water?” It took most of the class a second to realize that this wasn’t a rhetorical question, so Mia’s hand was up first again. “Miss Rusticov?” Mia answered with a little trepidation. “The water charm pulls water out of an existing water source like a river, well, or cistern. It can even pull water out of the air if you’re in a humid area. It’s an advanced summoning charm with a very specific application and defined radius. If there isn’t any water within the radius, then you cannot use a water charm to get water. Created water is the act of transfiguring the molecules around you into the water you need, and can be created anywhere as long as the wand wielder has the focus and energy to do so. You can create water in the middle of the desert or on the lip of a volcano. The results are similar, but the process is on opposite ends of the magical spectrum.” She watched his face anxiously while she gave him her explanation. She hoped she hadn’t left anything out.