Professor Fain looked somewhat mollified. “Very well put.” He pointed his wand at the goblet on his desk and easily produced the focus to create a stream of cold, clear water. He tipped the goblet in Mia’s direction and said “To your very good health.” He nodded and the students began.
Mia had watched the professor intently, willing herself to produce the same odd focus that he’d used. Even with her careful observation and a good theoretical knowledge of the process, it took her most of the class to manage it. Ella, sitting beside her, suddenly widened her eyes in understanding, and quickly filled her own goblet. Shortly afterward the professor said “That’s enough class; let’s see what we have here.” He walked to the opposite side of the class and nodded to two young men for completing the assignment before he said in a low voice “Did you or did you not hear the long discussion that we had about created water being a different process from summoned water? Either you are so obtuse that you do not understand the difference between the two, or you think that I can not tell the difference. I want six pages of parchment on my desk by the next class detailing the process, or don’t bother showing up.” He was much less harsh to those who had failed to produce a single drop, merely advising them to practice before the next class.
Three other students were praised for completing the project before he came to Mia’s desk. He grinned down at them as the chimes rang. Ella was included in his general goodwill. Mia ignored a few dirty looks from across the classroom. Martin had also managed to create water, but the professor had only nodded and given him a quick ‘well done’.
As the other students hurried away, Professor Fain handed her a stack of books from his black satchel. “These are a pretty fair version of what probably happened here in the City for the last thousand years as opposed to the blatant propaganda they teach in those village schools. Enjoy.” Again the corner of his mouth twitched. “You’d better head out. Wait, I have a free period next, I’ll walk with you.” As they walked to Charms, he questioned them on their first day of class. Ella volunteered the information that Mia had earned special classes in her first two classes. Mia corrected her again on the matter of helping Professor Cavendish. “It’s just helping out instead of taking the class…” Professor Fain grinned. “Watch out who you show up. These old blood families stick together. Then again, it’s good for them to eat crow every once in a while.” He grinned as they walked up to the Charms building. “And with that conflicting advice I leave you.” He waved slightly and walked toward the library as they climbed the stair to meet the rest of their dorm mates, who had saved them a seat.
Vivian had been looking out the window and whispered to Mia “Professor Fain walked you to class?” Mia shushed her friend as best she could while the Professor, a very old wand wielder named Professor Randal called roll. He moved like a statue would if it came to life, slowly, as if every breath were unnatural. He waited several minutes before he said “This is Charms. Open your books to page one and read the chapter.” Then he sat down and stared unblinkingly at the class while they nervously turned to page one.
Mia finished the chapter in twenty minutes. Even the slowest reader finished well before the chimes rang. Forty-five minutes after class began a boy raised his hand and was promptly ignored. He put the hand down after a few minutes and the noise level in the room rose slightly, but the professor took no notice of that. Ten minutes before the chimes rang Mia stood up. She’d had a bad feeling ever since the Professor had ignored the boy entirely.
He made no sound as she walked to the front and didn’t so much as blink when Mia picked up his hand and felt his wrist. It was cold and stiff, but she didn’t know if that was the way a really old wand wielder might feel normally. She looked at the other students and said “Can someone go get Mrs. Bennett from the infirmary?” One of the more active boys hopped out of his seat and ran. She could tell that a two mile run was, in his mind, a less daunting prospect than waiting in the room with a possibly dead professor. The chimes signaled the end of class and the end of the school day, but the students stayed in their seats, ignoring the certainty of dinner at their dorms.
The boy who had ran after Mrs. Bennett eventually returned with her in tow. She was a tall woman, but she moved slowly, showing that she was older than she appeared. The boy hopped and gambled around her, running circles around her dress like an ill-mannered dog; persistently begging to move faster than the pace of a dying garden snail.
“Slow down boy, slow down. Happens every year, Professor Randal falls asleep somewhere and someone comes dragging me out thinking he’s dead.” She frowned at the professor’s sitting form, and dug a small diffuser out of the belt pouch she wore, and waved it under his nose with a sure movement. She frowned slightly when it elicited no response. She took his pulse, two minutes passed, then three, four, and five while the students watched solemnly. Suddenly, she began to shake and wail. The girls rushed forward to comfort her, Mia quietly asked the boy who’d fetched her to get the headmistress.
Professor Cavendish (drawn by the woman’s cries) walked in a few minutes after the boy left. Mia detangled herself and explained what was going on. The professor quickly sent three of the boys on various errands and convinced Mrs. Bennett to drink a potion he summoned from her stores. The headmistress walked in as two burly footmen carried Mrs. Bennett out of the room. Two more entered directly afterward and quickly removed Professor Randle’s body.
Headmistress Villanova raised an eyebrow. “Well, Professor, what happened?” He quickly explained what the situation had been when he found it. He indicated that Mia should tell her part in it. There wasn’t much to tell. The headmistress sighed. “How long was he dead before Mrs. Bennett came?” Mia admitted that she wasn’t sure. “He told us to read the first chapter right after he finished taking roll. After that he didn’t speak or move. I took his pulse a few minutes before the chimes, and sent the boy for Mrs. Bennett.”
The headmistress frowned. “That’s going to be a nasty shock for her. Professor Randle was her father.” At Mia’s stricken look, the headmistress frowned. “None of that please; you did exactly what you should have done in calling Mrs. Bennett. There was no way you could have known or should have known that it would be a problem.” She turned to the Professor. “Well, George. Thank you for coming to help.” she said. “Would you mind finishing up here? I’m afraid that the professor’s death, while not entirely unexpected, will cause a number of problems that I’ll need to solve personally.” She walked out of the room in the direction of her tower.
Professor Cavendish glanced down at Mia. “Are you alright?” Mia nodded. She’d seen a few dead people. The villagers always called Emma when someone died, to verify the cause of death for the CTA (City Tithe Authority) records. Two registered witnesses had to confirm each death, to keep people from cheating on their tithe requirements.
She was staring at the old professor’s chair. The rest of her dorm mates had been sent on errands. Professor Cavendish gave Mia a slight push toward the girl’s dorm. “Go eat some dinner. It’s horrible to say it, but none of this will seem quite as bad on a full stomach.” The fact that he was right didn’t make her feel any better about it.
Chapter Six
Mia was starving by the time she got to the dorms. The enchanted plates were already zooming by as she dodged a floating salad and slid into her seat beside Ella. The others were already halfway through the first course, a pale flavorful soup with thin slices of bread toasted with soft cheese. Mia’s bowl slid into place just as she did. How did the serving spell do that? She would love to get her hands on a copy of the original spell…it must be hideously complicated. She ate with appreciation and appetite, if not the transports of delight that the meal might have invoked before Charms.
After dinner the girls returned to their dorm. There was a quiet murmur about what happened to the Professor. Vivian whispered. “He finally turned to stone?” Mia rolled her eyes. “They don’t actually turn to stone. Emma said they ca
lcify…normally it is the arteries.”
“What, exactly is the difference?” Mia shrugged. “Chemically or practically?”
Vivian rolled her eyes. “For practical purposes.”
Mia shrugged. “For practical purposes, there isn’t much. But it only happens to really powerful, really old wand wielders, and only after a couple of centuries of magic. Normal villagers don’t often make it past the century mark.”
Vivian rolled her eyes. “Still doesn’t make up for ending up as a pigeon roost.”
Homework took precedence after dinner was over. Mia practiced creating water by filling all of the bath tubs up and pulling the plugs repeatedly. Ella was filling a cup over and over while Sarah watched intently. After about an hour of practice, Sarah managed to fill a cup, much to the delight of the other girls. “You should have taken Creation. Professor Fain’s incredible.” Sarah grinned. “I am taking Creation, with Professor Montesquieu. But we didn’t do anything today besides go over theory.” Mia was glad she’d gotten Professor Fain.
She was sweating and tired by the time she finished, and famished again. She ran down to the dining area and ordered a large snack for all the girls: a pot of tea with cream and sugar, slices of melon, small round cookies, and a large bowl of almonds. After a minute’s consideration, she also ordered a pile of dainty chicken salad sandwiches. She munched on a couple of sandwiches as she levitated the heavy tray back to the dorm and sat down for a bedtime snack. Sarah and Ella ate as much as Mia. Vivian, Lizzy and Beth, who hadn’t been doing magic that evening, nibbled on some of the melon slices and sipped a cup of tea.
After they finished, Ella and Mia divided the history books that Professor Fain had loaned them, while the others followed their own inclinations. Lizzy and Beth were searching through a package of music and talking quietly. Sarah was reading a heavy text for one of her classes the next day. Vivian pulled out her sketchbook and what looked like burned pieces of wood. She spent most of the evening making sure strokes with the charcoal and muttering about the position of the light and shadows.
Vivian was the first to claim a bathtub, closely followed by Ella, who took the second cube. Mia took a very quick bath and settled into the soft bed with her curtains closed and the magelight on. The book was fascinating, and kept her awake long after the quiet murmurs of her dorm mates indicated that they were sleeping. If she was a bit sleepy the next morning, no one commented. Then again, the bustle of six girls getting ready for class would have covered any yawning she might have done.
The book skipped the story of the origin of the City: it began with the first written account of the City government and continued through on the firm ground of written historical accounts, ignoring legend entirely. The advancement of the protective charms was of particular interest to her. They had started out as magical fences, but had evolved into something much more intricate. They used delicate calculations involving the angles of the sun, moon, and heavenly bodies to regulate systems as complicated as a living organism. The current spells formed a semi-permeable membrane around settlements that allowed most creatures to pass with nothing more than a tingle of power. It had the signature of certain types of creatures that were not allowed into the City Bounds, and it formed a powerful magical charge that kept them from crossing. A chimera testing the protections would get a potent shock to its system if it tried to pass the barrier. It might even kill the beast, though wand wielders hadn’t had much luck with using the shield to deliberately kill them. A nightingale would flit past without the slightest whisper of power. It was fascinating stuff, even though it didn’t include the exact calculations used to build the barriers. She’d fallen asleep before she’d gotten to the chapter on the making of wands, but she was looking forward to reading it.
Breakfast was a hearty meal of omelets filled with meat and cheese, with sliced strawberries, toast and jam, and fried potatoes on the side. Mia grabbed a pear out of the basket beside the door, and a small bag of roasted pecans for later. They didn’t starve you at the college.
Mia, Ella, Vivian, and Sarah walked to Transfiguration. Vivian was repeating gossip about the professor. “Everyone says he’s a nightmare to take class with, especially for the girls.” She looked at the building nervously. Mia was determined to reserve judgment, but Professor Marshall’s opening comments made his position clear. “Every year the headmistress” he spat out the word “sees fit to place a passel of bubble-headed females in my classes. Those with pretensions are inevitably put in their place.” He shot the group of girls a nasty look. “Turn to page three and read the chapter”. He stomped back to his desk, much to Mia’s relief, since the smell he was radiating wasn’t in the least bit appealing.
Mia had grown up in the country, with farmers and blacksmiths who were filthy at the end of a day’s work. But she had never met anyone who seemed as dirty as this man. His clothing was rumpled and stained despite easy access to cleaning spells all over campus. His mostly bald head was littered with a few long, lank hairs that dandruff continued to cling to. Overall, he was the most repugnant person she’d ever encountered.
She left the class with her skin crawling and wishing for an extremely hot bath, as if filth was catching. Of the thirty people in the class, three withdrew that day. Mia caught herself wishing that she’d been one of them.
Her next class, Elementary Healing, was canceled until further notice. The Professor was filling in for Mrs. Bennett in the infirmary while she settled her father’s estate. The laws concerning the transfer of property at the time of death were famously complicated. Mrs. Bennett would be filling out paperwork and submitting documents for weeks.
Mia enjoyed the free period. She found a comfortable bench to settle on with her book. The wind was coming out of the north now, with just a hint of bite in it. Very soon, she would need to switch from light slippers to boots. The chapters detailing wand making were less detailed than she had hoped. Apparently, each wand maker had specific techniques that they shared only with their apprentices (almost always a wanded offspring or relative).
The girls met at the dorm for a hearty lunch of roasted goat and new potatoes, asparagus, fresh crusty bread and butter. Then she, Ella, Lizzy and Beth made their way to the domed theater building at the main stage for music class.
Theater was the only college course open to non-wanded students. The City stage held weekly entertainments and most of the performers were wandless. Those courses were scheduled during times when the wanded students were not in the building. Theater was generally held to be an area where the ‘wandless’ excelled, so wanded girls did not enroll in the classes.
Music, while not a magical ability, was a grace that every young wanded girl should possess if possible. The only acceptable substitute was art, currently a bit out of fashion, since it was harder to enthrall a husband with your watercolors. The class was packed with girls, without a male in sight.
A stern-faced woman with elaborately braided black hair and heavy brows nodded to the girls as they entered and sat on the velvet cushioned seats in the main auditorium. She let the chimes die away before she began. “Good afternoon class. I am Professor Petrov, head of the music department for the College. We’ll just be judging your standard today, so if each of you would choose a piece of music, we can begin.” Several of the girls played the harp on the stage, and one screechy soprano sang.
Lizzy and Beth took the two pianos on the stage. The twins exchanged a mischievous look and began…Mia had never heard anything like it. Their duet was a showpiece of hundreds of hours of practice and a great deal of natural talent. The notes flowed like water, crisp and clear, harmony and melody switching from one instrument to the next with seamless grace. They certainly earned the spontaneous applause from their audience and the commendation from the teacher. “Who was your instructor?” Beth dimpled. “Master Bienni. He doesn’t teach anymore, but he was a friend of our grandmother’s.”
Professor Petrov nodded. “I caught his final performance on th
e City stage when I was a student. He’s one of the finest pianists the City has ever produced. I suppose you are old blood then?” The girls nodded. The professor sighed. “Now that’s a pity. I hate to see that much talent wasted. Next.” The next song was a rollicking ballad preformed by a northern girl playing some sort of lap drum. Under the cover of the drum beats and ear-splitting yodeling, Mia asked Lizzy what the Professor had meant.
“Well, we’re old blood.” Lizzy explained patiently. “Sometimes a wanded woman from other backgrounds will go on the stage for a living. Old blood ladies never perform in public. The best we can do is play at private gatherings for groups of friends and family.” Beth whispered “And it’s really only done while you’re young. Older ladies never seem to participate in evening musicals.” A dark look from the Professor effectively ended the conversation.
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