He picked up the third book and put it down quickly, sadly, and shook his head. “She died twenty years later, after destroying all of her journals and notes. No one knows why she would have denied the world a last glimpse into her mind. Many of us believe that she felt that people were too interested by her personal life: her famous marriage, her two son’s various magical antics in their youth, followed by long and brilliant careers of their own. Some feel she might have worried that people would take a random phrase that she had written in pique at some point and turned it into an ideology. At least that’s one theory. Others think she just went stark raving mad when her husband died.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Regardless, she did leave us these three master works. If you will open the first book to page six, we’ll skip the introduction and get straight to the meat of the thing…”
Mia took notes until her hand cramped. She never knew when the professor’s off-handed comments (he did digress with alarming regularity) would suddenly erupt full blown into a valid point, so she wrote down everything. She was writing so fast, she didn’t realize at first when the chimes rang, until Martin brushed her arm on his way out, causing an ugly black line across her notes. Professor Patrick limped over, took out his wand, and removed the line. “I’ll see you next class Miss Rusticov.” He limped out of the class with a large stack of books levitating behind him.
It was a shame to hurry through a meal at the dorm, but Mia did hurry. She had homework in both History and Magical Theory and Astronomy was at eight o’clock. Mia managed to read the chapters assigned by Professor Patrick before Lizzy popped her head in to tell her the rest were leaving. Mia grabbed her cloak and bag and ran after them.
Astronomy was held at the old theater, which was perhaps the oldest part of campus. This was nothing like the graceful glass building that she took music in: the old theater was literally a hole in the ground. Stone seats started at ground level and stepped down to a flat stone area with a raised dais on it. A woman stood on the dais, shrouded in a black cloak from neck to foot, obsidian hair wound about her head like a crown. Wisps of mist were floating here and there, giving the entire scene an eerie feel. Other students were already seated down in the bowl. Mia looked at the others, and Vivian plucked up her courage first and started down the uneven stone steps. The rest followed.
“I am Professor Simms.” She looked at the class intently before moving on. “Every semester some irritated child asks me why we study the stars if we can do magic without them. Every semester I tell them the same thing. The stars, if used correctly, are the most accurate timepiece in the world. Our ships use them to guide them when no other landmarks are available. Greatlords and Ladies use the stars as markers in their most complex protective spells, to give perimeters on when they should begin or end a function. That said, please pull out your star maps. Who can direct me to the north star?”
Chapter Seven
The next morning the girls arrived in Botany. Professor Cavendish quickly got the class started on a project: he had a smallish apple tree in a pot in the middle of the greenhouse. The tree was covered in bright red crabs, which were waving their claws at any attempt to pick them. The class was supposed to figure out why crossing an apple tree to a crabapple resulted in this magical mishap.
Mia asked the professor while they were walking “They didn’t try to graft the tree with magic after using unicorn dung to fertilize it, did they?” The professor beamed. “Actually, they used a type of fertilizer made from finely crushed seashells and unicorn dung. Doomed from the start; though I must admit the crabs have an excellent flavor, very sweet.”
They went into Greenhouse two, and the professor said “Here we are, night-blooming snake vines. They grow on the edge of the Western desert. Let me show you what to do, it can be a bit tricky…” And with speed that belied his age, the Professor poked the vines with a long stick with one hand while holding a venom jar in the other. Six “heads” struck out in every direction. The professor deftly caught one and forced the “fangs” (two very long thorns), into the jar. “We use the sap in a lot of anti-venoms for the western area. Now, I have a cream on the shelf over there, Professor Ambrose whipped it up for me, rub a bit on any scratches you get. The plant’s not poisonous, but it itches dreadfully if those thorns sink into you.” Mia eyed the snake-vines with some concern; it looked like it would hurt if those thorns sunk into you.
An hour and a half later, Mia was dabbing three of the longest scratches with the cream. She was sweating, scratched and dirty, but she’d milked three quarts of sap from the plants. She’d also managed to avoid having the fangs sink into her, though the last scratch on her forearm was six inches long and deeper than she’d like.
Professor Cavendish was pleased with the sap, and quickly healed the scratches with a flick of his wand. “Thank you Mia. That’s excellent work. There never seems to be enough time to tend the plants, teach, and gather all of the by-products of my labors. This term my third years are worse than useless; most of them couldn’t tell a nut from a bulb. I normally have a few that I can trust to help.” Mia blushed.
“Did your guardian ever use snake vine sap in her curative potions?” Mia shook her head. “No, but I’ve read that you can use it in place of Troll’s Foot Mushrooms. Living in Forestreach we used them in most of the anti-venoms. Unicorn grass will work in a pinch, but Emma made sure to add a little grated lemon peel to it if she had to substitute…or lime juice if she was making the anti-venom for spider bites.” The professor nodded. “I’ve never used limes myself, I like a little lemon peel in all my anti-venoms…but of course you can’t use lemon with most spider bites since their venom causes a severe allergic reaction to the color yellow.”
He pulled a small leather bound book out of his pocket. “I want you to read this before next class; it’s one of the better collections of desert flora available. Not that’s perfect, mind you. Since this is my personal copy, I’m afraid you’ll notice that it’s been scribbled on a bit. I couldn’t stand to read some of the blatant nonsense that Horatio McLinnin passed off as research. You’ll be glad of those scribbles if you ever end up in the desert area. Two of the so-called ‘edible’ plants Horatio described are poisonous.”
Mia rushed to catch up to her friends, only to find them waiting on her outside the greenhouse. They eagerly asked about her project, so she described milking the snake vines. “Better you than me” Vivian said with a slight smirk. Then her expression darkened. “That Martin Ainsley is a nightmare to be around. The second you left with the professor, he started talking. We had to tell him that we already had enough fertilizer in the room, thank you, without him adding more.”
Mia looked at her friend in real alarm. “You leave Martin Ainsley to me. His parents are wanded, so he could make trouble for you.” Sarah lifted her chin. “I’ve said it before Mia, don’t worry about Ainsley. My grandfather out-ranks his, and so do Lizzy and Beth’s Grandmother. He’s not related to a Greatlord anywhere in his direct line. Your mother was a Greatlady. He’s outclassed.” Mia accepted Sarah’s certainty. After all, she knew Martin better than the rest of them, and her parents moved in those circles.
The six of them arrived in good time for Alchemy and Mia showed Professor Ambrose the potion she intended to make: a tricky acne remedy from the northernmost corner of the City bounds. The professor rummaged around in the school stores and found the frozen eel eyes and ice drake hair that Mia was missing, and Mia turned her cauldron to the proper temperature and began.
The rest of the class was trying the rudimentary runny nose remedy again, this time with explicit instruction from the Professor detailing where they went wrong last time. “Most of you didn’t sift the sage, the temperature of the distilled water was too low or too high, and almost no one remembered to add the two drops of gorgon oil. Just because the recipe calls for a small amount of something, it doesn’t mean you can skip the step entirely…there’s a reason why it’s there!”
Meanwhile, Mia was workin
g on her potion. Near the end of class she decanted the mixture and took it to the professor. “Let’s see.” She did that complicated twist with her wand as Mia awaited her judgment. “Well, it says in the book that the vapor should be pale lavender, and this looks violet. Did you chill the wintergreen oil to the proper temperature?” Mia checked the recipe. “It says room temperature.” Professor Ambrose cocked an eyebrow at Mia. “Yes, but in the furthest reaches of the north, room temperature is in the low sixties. Still, this looks useable, which is a fine complement for your first try with such a fiddly, temperamental brew. I want you to make a room temperature conversion chart for every area in the City bounds. That way you’ll have that information at your fingertips next time you need it.”
Professor Ambrose hummed to herself as she walked toward another student’s cauldron (which was spewing sparks and making a noise like a wounded harpy). Mia cleaned up quickly, mildly concerned with the amount of homework she’d suddenly acquired.
Once Professor Ambrose was satisfied with her potion making skills, Mia was occasionally assigned other tasks that had little or nothing to do with brewing. “Mia! Thank goodness I have you today.” The Professor was levitating a large crate of bottles as the class meandered into the potions room. “Can you levitate these over to the infirmary? I meant to take them this morning, but I was running a bit late.” Professor Ambrose had a live baby opossum in her hair, so Mia didn’t doubt she’d had a rough morning.
“Can you levitate them all by yourself dear?” Mia smiled and nodded, while Vivian looked disappointed. She hadn’t had a chance to visit the infirmary yet as far as Mia knew, and Vivian was as bad as a pixie for wanting to know every nook and cranny of every place she went. But Mia knew very well that she didn’t actually need help with the box, so she set out alone to find the infirmary.
In point of fact, Mia had no idea where it might be located, but one of the directories was willing to help her. “Ah, good! Hurry along now, down the path to your right, and turn right again when it forks. Second building you come to, you can’t miss it. They’ve been waiting on those potions all morning!” The directories were terrible gossips.
Mia set out at a fast walk and found herself at the infirmary within a few moments. The bottles clinked as she set them down in the busy entrance. She tried to catch a passing third year student as she rushed by, but the girl just shrugged her off and pointed Mia toward an empty desk. “Someone will be with you eventually.”
So Mia waited, and waited, and waited. Eventually, her feet began to ache from standing still in place for so long. She flagged down the next person she saw. He looked to be an apprentice.
“Excuse me…”
“Whatever it is, it will have to wait…” She stamped her foot. “I was told that you needed these potions as quickly as possible.”
His eyes widened. “Why didn’t you say something sooner! We’ve been waiting hours for those!”
Mia let out an exasperated sigh. “I’ve been waiting nearly an hour right here.”
He didn’t even notice her tone. “Sorry. That happens when we have an influx like this. Seven of them are catatonic.” He rummaged through the box. “Run these up to the third floor if you don’t mind…there’s supposed to be a couple of wandless orderlies to do this sort of thing, but I’m sure they were pressed into service first thing this morning.” He handed her six bottles and pointed to the stair. “Up three floors and two doors to the right, and I’ll be grateful. Those might still do some good for the ones up there.” He turned a sorrowful face to his own rooms and picked up a dark amber bottle. “There’s not much left for us to do for these down here except ease their pain, if they are feeling any.” With that he turned and left her.
The hallways and stairwell were unnaturally white…a stark, blinding sort of white that seemed to produce light rather than merely reflect it. She was ninety percent sure that was an optical illusion, but short of taking the time to test for spells on the paint, she couldn’t be certain.
The second room down the corridor was the same blinding white as the hall. The difference was that it was full of silent, still forms. Face after face, two rows of youngsters, absolutely unmoving. She was staring when a sour-faced woman stepped into the room. “Hey there, you’ve no business coming here to gawk while we’re too busy to stop you….”
Mia held the bottles out in front of her to ward off the woman’s scowl. “I was told to bring these up here.” The woman’s eyes softened. “Ah, finally!” She didn’t waste any time, but immediately pulled needles out of a cabinet and started injecting the youngsters with the contents of the blue bottle. “I assume you are Professor Ambrose’s student?” Mia nodded as she watched. “We’ll need more of this if any of these are going to make it back to us with their magic intact. Run her the message, won’t you?” Mia nodded and backed out. Then she turned and fled. All those silent bodies…alive, but empty. She’d seen death a few times, but this was worse…just incalculably worse.
She arrived at back at her school room just as the chimes sounded. She gave her professor the message, and left. She didn’t go to lunch. For some reason, she felt rather ill. She went up to the dorm and washed her face, then grabbed a book and an apple out of the basket on the edge of the dining room. Outside, in the sunshine, she finally managed to compose herself before she had to face her friends. She fobbed off Vivian’s questions with polite non-answers. It seemed terribly rude to gossip about those poor people in the infirmary.
***
Mia soon had enough homework that she seriously started wondering if there was a spell to slow down time. If there was, it would probably turn your skin paisley or something as a side effect. Otherwise everyone would use it.
Two weeks into term she wrote Emma.
Dear Emma,
How are you? How is everyone in Forestreach? I was sorry to hear that wolves managed to get one of Bob Hollingsworth’s ewes, but glad to hear that no one was hurt. If Annabeth Trull hasn’t gotten over her cough before you get this, see if she’s pouring the medicine out of her window at night. She did that with the Wart Remover last spring. She’s seven years old now, old enough to know better than that. I warned her that if she did it again I would tell you.
Class is going well; Beth is trying to help me with my piano, though sometimes I wonder how she can have so much patience with me. I’m beginning to think my fingers are messing up on purpose just to thwart me. Professor Petrov thinks so to: she threatened to turn me into a moose during the last class when I made six mistakes doing scales. She said I make noises on the piano that sound like a moose call anyway so it won’t be much of a change. But the more she glares the harder it is to do it right. I already know what you’ll say, more practice.
I’ve been doing very well in Botany and Alchemy, but then, I had a great teacher. Professor Cavendish says he needs to order three bags of sagewort and a pound of powdered unicorn mint. He also said that he’d like to get a few live unicorn mint plants if you think they’d travel well enough during the fall.
I have to get back to doing homework, but I’ll write again next rest day.
Love,
Mia
***
Classes were six days a week, with a rest day on the seventh. All told, Mia had thirteen classes, and almost all of them required study outside of class. Mia was beginning to wish that she’d arranged for a free period or two. Even Sarah had left one space open to study.
During the third week of class Mia received a note from her solicitor, requesting her presence at the estate on the next rest day. Mia was excited. She was ready to learn more about her family. Her guardian had told her what she knew, but it wasn’t much. Emma had a distressing tendency to judge people on their own merits and so didn’t consider breeding the way most people did. Mia wanted to know everything. What better place to find out about her family than the family estate? She didn’t even know if she was old blood, or if her mother had been one of those periodic talents that no one could rea
lly explain. She might even be able to find out something about her father.
The other girls were as excited as Mia was, Vivian perhaps more so. “Oh, how I wish you could draw. You have to tell us about everything and everyone, and make sure you don’t leave anything out!” Mia rolled her eyes and grouched “I’ll take notes, shall I?” Vivian glared at her for her flip answer and then said sweetly “Yes, that would be perfect.”
Mia, who’d been rubbing her hand after another marathon note taking session in Theory, grumbled “I think I’ve used more paper this semester than all of you put together.” Sarah didn’t look up from her book “Probably. You should have thought of that before you tested so high.” Mia threw a sofa cushion at her head, which Sarah expertly dunked, proving that she wasn’t as distracted by her book as she would like them all to believe. The cushion plumped itself and floated back to the sofa, and the girls returned to the mountain of homework that they’d been assigned.
Mia woke on rest day a few minutes before she would have normally gotten up. Annoying thing to do on a rest day she thought with sleepy irritation. She pulled herself out of the bed and decided to have a nice long bath before anyone else woke up. She filled the metal bathtub with steaming water and used the special rose soap that Emma had given her before she left the cottage. She soaked for a long time, luxuriating in the hot water and the scent of roses. Eventually, when she heard the others moving around, she unplugged the tub and dried off, slipping the sky blue dress over a white under-dress.
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