“These should fit if you would like to change before breakfast.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
As soon as he left, Rose went to shower. The shower was operated by standard knobs, a refreshing change after the magical lights and window. The magic seemed to be easy to use, but it was nice to have something familiar.
She tried to put things in perspective as the water warmed her skin. Feeling surprisingly rested after a short night didn’t erase the grief and fear of her new life. This was the day after Thanksgiving. If she were at home, Paul would be banging on the door, demanding that she hurry up so he could get a shower before the family went out for breakfast. Later, Grandmother would badger her into going shopping.
None of that would happen today. Rose pushed away the memories and focused on the magic. There was plenty to learn, and she couldn’t do that if she was living in the past.
After finishing in the bathroom, Rose examined the supply of clothing and shoes as she slipped into sturdy socks and formfitting pants that felt as if they were made of heavy cotton. The shirt was of a similar material and had enough room in the shoulders that she still had her full range of motion. Everything fit as though it had been made for her, and Rose suspected the magic was responsible.
Her hair was still damp, but there was nothing to be done about that, so Rose put it in a braid and tied it off with a small piece of leather she’d found in the bathroom. Since that was as good as it was going to get, she made her way into the living room.
It was decorated in a similar style to her room. One entire wall was painted with a sunset, and Rose walked closer, hardly able to believe that anyone could create those colors with paint. Touching a finger to the edge assured her that it was, in fact, just a painting, but it was the most realistic painting she’d ever seen.
She turned and looked at the rest of the room. She’d missed a lot last night. From here she could see the screen that had blocked her view of the kitchen, where Silverlight was setting bowls on a table just big enough for two.
“What’s for breakfast?” Rose asked.
“A little bit of everything I enjoy.” He smiled. “We can adjust what we keep on hand to suit your likes and dislikes. Would you care for some tea or juice?”
“What are the juice options?”
His smile faded. “Just orange juice. I have several varieties of tea, though.”
“No, I love orange juice. That would be great.” Rose gave him an encouraging smile. She would have to be more careful. Just because her family always had several options on hand didn’t mean that was the norm in this place. “I didn’t mean to upset you. This is different from what I’m used to, but that doesn’t mean I’m not okay with the options.”
“This is a new experience for me, too.” Silverlight picked up a cup. “Like you, my mother was a fey hearted. She said learning the simple things was the biggest challenge.”
“When will I meet your mother?”
Silverlight’s face turned solemn. “You won’t. She’s no longer among the living.”
Rose wished she could take back her question. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s been a long time.” Silverlight passed her the cup of juice. “Anyway, you’re going to see a lot of new things today, and it will be easy to forget the important stuff, like where to get food and clothing. I, well, all of us know it will take some time for you to get settled. If you can’t remember something, just ask for help.”
She nodded. While she ate, her thoughts tumbled over one another so quickly she could hardly catch one.
“I’m here to help you through this transition,” he added. “Don’t forget that.”
She was too busy enjoying the juice to respond. The last time she’d had orange juice that tasted this good was years ago on a family vacation. The locals had hand-squeezed the oranges and handed them cups of juice. That was one more thing she would never be able to do with her family again.
It felt suddenly like she had done a terrible thing by letting their memories of her be clouded. Perhaps it was kinder to take away the pain of her absence, but it removed the previous joy, too. She held all the memories now, the only remains of what their family had been. It all would’ve been different if she could see them. Then she could have told them that she was moving far away and still kept the connection. As it was, they were gone. Hopefully, time would prove that she’d made the right decision.
Swallowing, Rose pushed away the painful thoughts. “How do you get such fresh juice?”
Silverlight smiled and refilled her cup. “We trade with a settlement to the south during the summer and fall. The storerooms do an excellent job of preserving things, so we are able to enjoy juice and other seasonal items all year. If we have time today, I’ll show you.”
Wow. Magic was everywhere here. Storerooms kept fruit as fresh as the day it was picked. Dragon fights were a common enough occurrence that it merited no more than a sigh. Why, furniture even managed to be repaired simply by wishing it whole again.
“What if I accidentally do magic again?” Rose asked.
“Like what happened to the screen?” He waited for her to confirm before continuing. “If it happens, it happens. Though, that wasn’t really you.”
“If it wasn’t me, what was it?”
Silverlight studied her for a moment. “It was the magic working of its own volition. With time you will be able to use magic, but for now it is working to help you.” He held up a hand, halting any more questions. “I will gladly explain, but I can’t put every aspect of this place into words over breakfast,” he said with a smile. “Today you get some experiences and explanations. Tomorrow you will learn more, and the day after even more. This will take time.”
She nodded and followed Silverlight’s lead as he dug into their breakfast. While they ate, Rose thought about what he’d said. It had to be a good thing that the magic wanted to help her. This place seemed to be controlled by the magic, and if it was assisting her, then it must have wanted her to stay. Maybe it had even guided Silverlight to her because it knew she would be happier here.
“What are we doing today?” she asked.
Silverlight swallowed. “When we finish eating you’ll have an introduction to basic magic, and then we’ll be off to the gardens. After that we’ll go to the Commons, which is a combination of dining hall, gathering place, and stockroom.”
Her eyes widened. That sounded like more than enough to fill the entire day, not just the morning.
“It won’t be so bad.” He gave her a sympathetic smile. “Do you have any training with weapons?”
Rose thought for a moment. “I’m good with a pistol and even better with a rifle.”
“Hmm.” His eyebrows drew together, but he nodded. “What about hand-to-hand, sword, bow, anything like that?”
“No.”
“You must learn some method of defending yourself. While Veles is usually safe, we are attacked on occasion. It’s why I carry a sword.”
“Who would attack me?”
“Occasionally animals will hunt fey, and there are the wilds, fey who have gone mad.” He quickly changed the topic, and she didn’t stop him. There would be other chances to ask questions. “How old are you?”
“Seventeen,” Rose answered. “What about you? Wait, do humans and fey measure time the same way?”
Silverlight chuckled softly. “We both judge age in years, and our years have the same number of days as yours. I’m eighteen, but my father is much older. It’s common for fey to wait hundreds of years before procreating.”
Rose’s eyes widened. “Oh. I guess when you live such a long time there’s no hurry.”
“Precisely.” Silverlight paused. “When I found you, you were holding a book. Do you enjoy reading?”
She grinned. “I love to read.”
“Would you be willing to read history books?”
“Whether I enjoy it or not would depend on the writing, but sure.” Rose shrugged as her mind raced. “
Will I be able to read your books? Wouldn’t I need to learn your language?”
“You’ll be just fine.” He smiled.
“Is English your native language, or are you speaking it because I’m new?”
“Neither. The magic gives all of us the same language. There are a couple of theories as to how it works, but in practice it doesn’t matter what language you speak, read, or write. You will always be able to understand.”
“Oh, that’s a nice trick.” Rose spared herself a headache of trying to figure out how the magic made everyone understand the same language and focused on a point that was pertinent. “Why are you asking all these questions?”
Silverlight gave her a sheepish look. “Sorry. I should’ve explained. One of my responsibilities is pairing you with the right teachers.”
“Oh. Why didn’t you just say so?”
He didn’t look at her when he answered. “I… I haven’t done this before. I’ve been told what to do, ask, say—and what not to do or say—but it’s more difficult in practice than in lessons.”
How Silverlight was dealing with these changes wasn’t something she’d given much thought. After all, he had been very nervous when George, Waterfall, and Summersky were examining her. Plus, he’d selected her and removed her from the human world. That was a lot of responsibility before you added on teaching her about the fey world.
She didn’t know him well enough to offer reassuring words, so she settled for the next best thing. “What do you need to know?”
He looked at her, eyes wide.
Rose shrugged. “What will make it easier for you to select my teachers?”
He studied her for a moment before nodding. “Do you like being in the woods? Have you spent much time outside?”
This time Rose had to think about her answer. “The family would go camping when I was younger, and I’ve always enjoyed hiking, but that’s about it. While I like the outdoors, I’m also a fan of creature comforts—a good bed, a nice bathroom—and I’m not overly fond of bugs.”
He smiled. “We can work with that.”
The questions abated, and Rose returned to her food. The nuts and fresh fruit were delicious. She stabbed a blueberry with her fork and held it up. “It’s as good as the orange juice.”
“We’ll keep them on hand.” A moment later, Silverlight asked, “Are you finished?”
Rose popped one last walnut into her mouth and nodded.
She watched as he quickly cleaned up, knowing that in the future she would need to help.
“There are two rooms in the house that I haven’t shown you yet.” Silverlight led her into the living room and pointed at the door next to his bedroom wall. “That’s a storeroom, currently filled with summer bedding and the like.”
“And the door near my room?” She had noticed it earlier but hadn’t given too much thought to what was in it until now.
“That would be the workroom.” Silverlight pushed open the door, and a small light came to life, illuminating bare walls and cushions on the floor of an otherwise empty room. Rose walked in, thinking that perhaps the rest of the furnishings were hiding out of sight, but the room was exactly as it looked.
“Why is it so empty?” she asked.
“It is for the best. You’ll understand after the lesson. Please sit.” She did, and he went on. “What you call ‘magic’ is everywhere in this world. It is in the air we breathe, the food we eat, and inside us. In the strictest terms, fey almost never do magic. We ask the magic if it would aid us and then wait for a response. Few fey are willful enough and strong enough to force magic into a path of their choosing. You will learn small ways to do magic, but any notions you have about great spells are best forgotten.
“The great spells that still exist were cast so long ago that the way of accomplishing such an act has largely been lost. We are stewards of the earth, and small acts often have a greater impact than large spells, especially when done at the right time. We will start with tiny requests so you can learn how to transmit a desire to the magic. We will also work on the opposite—having a desire but not communicating it to the magic.” Silverlight’s eyes never left hers. “Any questions?”
Rose’s first question had come to mind as soon as he’d started explaining. “What do you call ‘magic’?”
“The most accurate name is energeia. It roughly means ‘work from within.’ It is apt for two reasons. First, the elemental fey give off energeia. They produce it the way the rest of us produce heat. The second reason is that the most powerful way to alter a system is from a small change on the inside.”
Rose nodded. That made sense. A degree or two variation in temperature could be the difference between a devastating tornado and none at all. The smallest imbalance in hormones could have cascading effects on the brain and body. Only the slightest difference in soil would change the quality of a plant.
“Most of us are comfortable with using the term magic instead of energeia, though the scholars will correct your usage.” He shrugged and moved on. “As you practice, you will find that the magic is more willing to aid you in some areas than others, and it’s usually in an area at which you already excel.”
Rose gave him a perplexed look.
“For example, I’ve always been good with creatures,” he said, “so when I ask for magical assistance, I typically get the response I desire, plus some. However, I’m only an average cook. Once I asked for help getting a pot of water to boil, and it took an hour.”
She giggled. That made the magic sound rather whimsical, which wasn’t at all how she had pictured it. “All right, but you still haven’t told me why the room is so empty.”
His smile faded. “Sometimes magic is unpredictable, especially in the beginning. Say you asked for the room to warm slightly and a chair lit on fire. That would warm the room, though I rather doubt that would be how you pictured heating the room. This is a controlled environment that allows us to limit the possibility of things going awry while you learn the basics.”
Lighting a chair on fire was bad enough, but she could imagine a plethora of ways it could get worse from there. What if the chair was the spark that burned down a house or torched something irreplaceable? That wasn’t even considering the possibility that a person or creature could get caught in the fire. Given all the ways Rose could think of for a simple request like that to go wrong, she didn’t want to picture what could happen if she asked the magic for something more complex.
“What exactly are the basics?” Warming a room or boiling water sounded pretty basic to her.
“Mending broken things, like what you did with the screen, and daily tasks, like turning on lights. You’ll also be learning how to desire things without those wishes being heard by the magic. For this morning, it was convenient, but what if in the future you desire to hurt someone and magic attempts to bring that desire to life?”
His words hung in the air. Rose didn’t have a response. While it had been fun to have the lights turn on of their own accord, the magic had responded to a single thought she’d had. At times, thoughts crossed her mind that were shameful or less than beneficial to those around her, and it would be horrible to have the magic try to make those into reality.
“How do I make it not listen to me?” she asked, then nibbled on her lower lip.
“By first understanding what it feels like when the magic does listen to you.”
She frowned. “That doesn’t sound like a complete answer.”
“The magic has a certain intelligence. It is unlikely to do anything drastic, especially while you are new. But in time, you will learn how to separate your thoughts from the magic and how to make your requests stand out in such a way that it is willing to attend to those and leave other things alone.”
“Where do I start?” This was one set of lessons she didn’t want to fail.
Silverlight reached behind him, picked up a piece of paper, and tore it in half. “Make it one again.”
Rose picked up the paper and si
lently asked if the paper could be rejoined. Nothing happened.
“Could you please fix the paper?” Rose asked the magic.
She waited, but again, nothing happened. Rose thought back, trying to determine what it was that had made the screen repair itself earlier. With the screen she’d been thinking about how sad it was that a work of art had been damaged, what a shame it would be if it couldn’t be repaired, and what a waste it would be to discard the screen.
Rose looked at the paper and forced herself to think about how useful the paper would be if it was a large sheet, how it could be used as a page in a book or as the base for a drawing, or how it could be folded into clever shapes. A floral scent reached her nose then, but she couldn’t identify it. The smell grew stronger as she focused on what could be done with this paper if it was one sheet rather than two. The pieces merged back together seamlessly.
She gasped and ran her finger over the paper. Try as she might, neither her eye nor her hands could find evidence that the paper had ever been two distinct pieces.
Silverlight smiled at her. “Good job.”
“Wow,” she breathed. “I did magic. On purpose.”
“That you did.” He laughed. “But next time you need to try to do it without words. There could be a time when speaking a request is problematic, such as if you find yourself in battle and cannot let your enemy know your next move.” He paused. “Now how did you make it work?”
“I thought about what it could be if only it was a single sheet of paper.”
“What else? Did you see or feel anything? Were there any unexpected sounds or smells?”
Rose sniffed. The room had the same clean smell as the rest of the dwelling. “I smelled flowers for a moment. It was really faint at first but got stronger before the paper merged.”
Silverlight nodded and picked up a piece of cloth from beside his cushion. “Mend this.”
“Does it matter that I thought I smelled flowers?” she asked. It had happened earlier, too, she recalled, when he’d used magic to make the dragon barriers. She’d smelled lilies.
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