After another half hour, Mia worked up the courage to ask a question. She said it quickly, while Mr. Smith was between breaths. “Mr. Smith? How long has it been since the staff has had a wanded healer out to see them?” Mr. Smith looked intently at her. “Not since your mother was last at the estate, before your birth.” Mia pushed right through: the worst Mr. Smith could do was tell her no. “I noticed that the stable master has a missing tooth. If it’s been nearly fifteen years since they saw a wanded healer, I expect many of the servants have needs that require wanded magic to fix.”
Mr. Smith’s mouth quirked a little at her talk of being ‘nearly’ fifteen. She pretended not to notice. Emma had always looked at her with the same expression when she started talking about ‘nearly’ ten the day after her ninth birthday. She was only a few months from her birthday. “Is there any way the estate can pay for a healer to come out and see to everyone? I’m sure that the local midwife is very good, but there’s only so much you can do with herbs. No one has invented a potion as yet that will grow a tooth back.”
Mr. Smith seemed pleased by her request. “I believe that we could arrange for that. The elder Mr. Dempsey and I are the trustees, and with your permission, we can make it a yearly visit.” Mia nodded.
It took them a few minutes to arrange the particulars, and for Mr. Smith to note them in his ever-present ledgers. He was smiling a bit as he scratched out the information and this made Mia feel comfortable enough to broach the next subject.
“Mr. Dempsey isn’t married…yet. I sensed that it wasn’t because he didn’t have a bride picked out.” Mr. Smith nodded. “Mr. Dempsey has been courting Miss Adeline Stubbs. Her parents run the wanded home in the village. She isn’t wanded herself, but her father is of course, and both her brothers are. The youngest one is still at college in fact. It would be an excellent match all around.”
Mia cocked an eyebrow and finally understood what Seer Glen was talking about. She knew there was something more. Mr. Smith shifted in his seat. “Mr. Stubbs is against the match because of Mr. Dempsey’s rather precarious position here.” Mia nodded; no father would want his daughter to marry a man who couldn’t provide for her. Mr. Smith sighed. “It’s worse because he refused to take the steward’s residence when he took the position. It was a noble thing to do, saving his mother from packing when his father wasn’t well. But he lives in a small cottage down the hill. It’s fine for a bachelor residence, but no girl of gentle breeding would be content with it.”
Mr. Smith continued. “Even if you wanted to declare his position secure, you won’t have the legal right to do so before you turn sixteen. I’m afraid there’s nothing to be done about it. Mr. Dempsey will simply have to wait.” Mia was thinking. She didn’t want to move the elder Dempsey out of the home he’d lived in: she owed the old man for the current prosperity of the estate. But she didn’t want the younger Dempsey to have to waste a year waiting for her to come into her inheritance. That didn’t seem right. She sat quietly for a moment, intently examining the map on the wall.
“Who’s living in the dower house?” Mr. Smith pulled out a ledger and consulted for a moment. “The dower house has been unoccupied for four generations, except for sporadic use during large parties. Your mother did a bit to repair the residence, but it has had only minimal upkeep for the last fifteen years. A maid goes in once a month, and cleans and makes sure that there aren’t any leaks or pests.”
Mia had a small smile on her face. She didn’t have any use for a dower house, and wouldn’t in her own generation. By the time it became a problem something else could be arranged. “Let me see if I understand correctly, I couldn’t declare Mr. Dempsey’s position permanent, or give him a raise in wages.” Mr. Smith added “But part of his contract includes living quarters and you could allow him to live in the finest residence on the property. Your trustees could, if they were so inclined, refurbish the dower house, since I’m sure it’s past due for renovations and new furniture.” Mr. Smith smiled. “Basic upkeep is our responsibility.”
Pleased with their manipulation of the situation, the two of them went to visit the dower house and see what renovations it would require if Mr. Dempsey were bringing home a new bride. Mr. Smith smiled at the building. “Talk about aging gracefully!” Mia had to agree. Even with no one living in her, the old house had a charming exterior that held against the current state of neglect. It was three stories tall, made of pale granite that wasn’t local. If the landscaping was a bit shabby around the edges, the foundation seemed firm. The house was in better shape than anyone had any right to expect.
The inside was in slightly worse condition: on closer inspection there was some termite damage in one of the drawing rooms, stonework was crumbling, paint was peeling in three of the bedrooms, including the master suite, and all the furnishings needed to be replaced or reupholstered. The house had a number of charming architectural details and lovely old hardwood floors. It would take time and skill to refurbish it, but it was well worth saving.
She was quite satisfied when she left. She tried to concentrate on her work, but her mind kept flitting back and forth to the day she’d just had. She finally gave up and allowed herself to indulge in a few minutes of idle thoughts. Idle thoughts turned quickly to dreams, and she rested her head on the seat beside her as the carriage traveled back into the City.
Chapter Eight
Three weeks into the semester, Elementary Healing finally began. The class had been delayed due to Professor Randal’s demise. Their professor had taken over Mrs. Bennett’s duties in the infirmary while she settled the estate. Mia was concerned about the injured students she’d seen, but for some reason the college was keeping it very quiet. Even Vivian hadn’t heard anything…or if she had she hadn’t passed it along.
Professor Ronan was a man of middling years whose most defining features were a pair of bushy, expressive eyebrows and an enormous stomach that entered the room well before he did. The class was very full, and for the first time since Sight, it was largely populated by females.
The professor smiled as he walked in the room. “All right class. Settle down.” His voice was surprisingly gentle for such a large man. “As I’m sure most of you know our class was delayed by the unfortunate demise of one of the teachers. Even though we’ve had a late start we’re going to try to make it through the syllabus as is. I realize that this will be difficult, but better to lose a few students than to send the rest of you on to intermediate healing unprepared. So! Let’s get to work.”
He led them outside where a grove of potted shrubs were sitting in the sun. Most of the leaves were split and cut. “We always begin on plants, then animals, and finally my third years help in the infirmary two days a week. For those interested in healing as a profession, there are always a few apprenticeships available with the Healer’s Guild, and more available with individual healers around the City.” He pulled out a long, dark wand, nearly as substantial as he himself was.
“Today we’ll learn a simple mending charm, used for scrapes and scratches. This is more effective than using a gummy concoction to seal the cut. Most wanded healers use it if they have to remove a foreign object from the body by surgery. I’ll demonstrate.” He took a tattered leaf in his hand and swirled his wand as he uttered the charm. The leaves mended themselves as they watched.
Professor Ronan smiled serenely at their amazement. “Now, each of you, choose a bush, that’s right, plenty to go around….” He walked from student to student, correcting their grips on the wands, wrist movement, and annunciation. Mia was holding her wand a bit too high, but managed the charm easily once he corrected her grip. Ella was saying the charm with a nasal twang, and Sarah was jabbing her wand a bit more than she should. Mia wasn’t even tired at the end of class, but she was ready for a nice lunch when the chimes sounded. Professor Ronan called out a warning as the students grabbed their things. “Don’t try this on anyone yet. Remember, you have two years of study before you start practicing on humans!”
>
***
Over the next three weeks Mia visited the estate twice. She was informed by a blushing Mr. Dempsey that he would be married on her third trip to the estate. He didn’t spend long in the office with her; he seemed grateful but severely embarrassed. “He’ll get over that.” said Mr. Smith indulgently. “I expect you’ll want to continue visiting the estate on rest days, and I encourage you to do so. I have to spend the next two weeks on a project my wife has had on her mind for some time, and since you’re up to date…” Mia grinned. “I’m quite capable of sending for the carriage myself Mr. Smith.”
He smiled. “Of course you are my dear. Now, just a note, please don’t try to open the glass case in the library; there are some very valuable original books in that case, and they have some of the most powerful protective enchantments on them that I have ever seen. Several people have been hurt trying to open it, so I would advise you against it.” He piled a stack of paper three feet high and started trying to shove it into his briefcase.
He looked at Mia as he sat on the case to shut it. “You know that the estates hold mid-winter parties for the people in the area?” Mia nodded. Forestreach had no Greatlady or Lord, so there were no mid-winter festivals. Mr. Smith’s case finally clicked shut. He panted slightly as he said “We’ve held the general festival every year, as your mother’s will indicated. But we’ve left off the grand ball for the local gentry, feeling it would be inappropriate for them to continue without a member of the family in residence. The Greatlord who leased the estate for the past thirteen years certainly had no interest in filling in for the family. I doubt he had guests above five or six times in all the time he was here. Regardless, I think it would have been unseemly for anyone but a member of the bloodline to host the celebration, however worthy he himself might be. If you are willing to come here for Mid-Winter…” He meant it. She, Mia from Forestreach, she was supposed to hold one of the near-mythical mid-winter parties. She had dreamed that one day, once she was grown up, and wanded, that maybe she might be invited to attend one.
Not all the estates sponsored the mid-winter festivities. Only a few still held to the ancient tradition. It dated back before the foundations of the City were laid. Mia never guessed that her family was one of those few who still supported the festivals.
Most people celebrated mid-winter at home. They decorated their mantels with evergreens and candles, exchanged tokens, and had music and a feast and dancing. She and Emma had found time to exchange tokens, but they were usually busy treating colds and cases of overindulgence. Forestreach didn’t have any sort of village-wide celebration, but some of the bigger families had held their own. A few of the larger villages held celebrations, but she’d never even gone to one of those. How was she supposed to plan a party for the local wanded? Lords and Greatlords would be invited...
Mia didn’t waste any time writing Emma. Her letter was ready to post long before the coach returned her to the college. She wanted to make sure her guardian could come to the party if she did decide to give one. Even more than that she really wished she could talk to her, have a warm hug, and be told not to worry. As that comfort was out of reach, she wrote a letter and hoped Emma would reply quickly.
She returned to the college late, and the others were asleep. Mia shrugged and took a short but thorough bath. She’d have to invite the others tomorrow. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.
She paid for not brushing her hair out properly the next morning; it looked like some sort of bird had decided to nest in it. Frustrated, she finally managed to tie it up in a knot, albeit a messier knot than usual. That made her late getting down for breakfast, and she barely had time to stuff down a muffin before they had to run to Botany. The girls rushed into the greenhouse as the last chime faded away.
The professor gave them a stern look as Martin Ainsley smirked behind him. “That’s cutting it a bit close girls. Try not to do it again.” Mia muttered something contrite. The Professor turned his stern glare into a full frown. “Class, today you’ll be doing something I normally ask my second years to do, but as I don’t have them until tomorrow, I’m asking you. Over the rest day, greenhouse seven apparently had an infestation of pixies. If I catch the blighters who let them in I’m going to turn them into fertilizer. Today we’ll be catching each of the little pink pests and putting them in jars.”
Professor Cavendish led the class to greenhouse seven. It was a disaster area. Pots were overturned, water was leaking out of the cistern (which was cracked in three places), and pink fluffy fur balls were flying all over the place. Pixies were four inches tall and almost as round. They were covered in fluffy, bright pink fur, more like lamb’s wool than anything else. Two iridescent wings sprouted on their backs. They were a type of rodent, but their general cleverness and instinct for trouble had earned them their own classification, like bunnies…except without the cute cotton tail. Their features were largely hidden in pink fluff, except their huge blue eyes. They had large hind feet like a rabbit, and clever little paws like a squirrel. They used them in the wild to open nuts, pick fruit, and dig for shellfish on the coast. They could catch and eat mice and even rats up to their own size, larger if they were hunting in a pack. They’d used those clever little paws in the greenhouse to open boxes, eat fruit, and generally get into everything.
Greenhouse seven, it turned out, was where the fruit for the entire campus was grown, and there wasn’t much that hadn’t been consumed. The professor waved his wand at the cracked cistern and indicated the box he’d levitated through the door. “Everyone take a net and a glass jar. Pixies don’t have much in the way of a natural defense, but if you get too close to them you’ll start sneezing. They throw handfuls of ‘dust’. It’s a type of dandruff. Humans are particularly allergic to it. Best tie a handkerchief around your faces.”
They left Botany an hour later with their hair messed up, their eyes and noses dripping from the blasted pixie dust. The pixies had been captured and contained, but the damage to the greenhouse was impressive. Mia decided that even magic wasn’t going to get the handkerchief she was using really clean ever again, and tossed it in the closest trash bin.
About half the Botany class was in Alchemy next, and Professor Ambrose regarded them all with disgust. “Anyone who is sick needs to go see Mrs. Bennett. I have absolutely no wish to spend another three weeks down with sirenitis or noodle-nose ever again.” Their normally happy-go-lucky teacher was cringing behind her desk. Mia wiped her streaming eyes with a borrowed handkerchief and raised her hand. “We aren’t sick Professor. We just came from Botany, and we were trying to catch pixies.” Professor Ambrose’s red eyebrows touched her hairline. “And Professor Cavendish didn’t give any of you an anti-allergy brew?” Mia shook her head. The professor raised her eyes skyward. “Blast the man. I’ll have to talk to him again. Some days he doesn’t seem to think a person is a person if they don’t have leaves!” She administered the potion (summoned from Mrs. Bennett’s stores) and they began class.
The girls were walking back to the dorms for lunch when Mia remembered that she had something to ask them. She casually asked Ella what she intended to do for Mid-Winter. Ella shrugged. “Stay here in the dorms I suppose. It’s too far to go home. Still, it shouldn’t be too bad. I think the City holds a festival every year so I might go see what that’s all about.”
Mia grinned. “I have to be at the estate over the holiday. I was hoping that all of you would join me.” Ella immediately agreed, while the others said they would have to check. “I’m sure my folks won’t mind” chatted Vivian. “We never do anything much for the holiday anyway. Mum and dad are always tired.” Sarah wasn’t as optimistic. “I’d love to come, but we normally attend the festival that my grandfather hosts at his estate. I don’t know how I’d be able to get away.” She looked at Mia wistfully. “Your party is bound to be more fun. Grandfather likes stewed prunes.” She pulled a face. Lizzy and Beth murmured that they would have to travel to their grandmother’s estate
, but they decided to ask anyway. There was a chance that the lady could be convinced. She didn’t host a festival; her estate was much smaller and more remote than Mia’s.
The girls discussed the possibility of a ball while they bolted their food. Then Mia went upstairs and washed her face and redid her hair. She felt much better once she dripped some potion in her eyes to take the red out, smoothed her hair, and changed clothes.
Creation was without exception her favorite class. It was a thrill to learn each new skill, and the focus which the subject required stretched her talent as nothing else did. She enjoyed all of the courses (except the mind-numbing Government class and Transfiguration with the detestable Marshal), but nothing stirred her imagination like Creation.
Today they were learning about creating crystal. “Making glass is the bread and butter for many wand wielders: its first year creation, but a lot of students never progress past this point. Why is crystal so much more difficult than glass?” The Stubbs boy raised his hand before Mia could, much to her disgust. “Regular crystal takes more effort to produce than glass. Chipotle’s Law postulates that the harder something is to produce in a physical fashion, the more difficult it is to create.”
Seventeen Stones Page 13