A Boy Without Magic

by Guy Antibes

  “Of course, come inside before you leave,” Mrs. Washjoy said.

  Glory picked a pastry filled with whipped cream and curtseyed to the baker and his wife and left out the front door, waving to Sam as she left.

  “A girlfriend?” Mr. Washjoy asked.

  Sam shook his head. “I think today was the first day she ever talked to me. She did make the best cushion, didn’t she?”

  The baker’s wife nodded. “I would have never thought to do such a thing, but you did. Good work, Sam.”

  “Time to get out there. Take a reward with you,” Tom said.

  Sam smiled and spent a good afternoon. He kept looking in the cart, not able to see the pollen cushions, but he could see the bags of bakery goods not touching the sides. The day’s deliveries were in better shape because of the protection. Even when Sam had delivered the bags, before the cart was fixed, they hadn’t been delivered in as good a shape.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ~

  “D O YOU NEED HELP?” GLORY WHEELER SAID TO SAM as he continued to write about ideas that popped into his head during the pollen class. She gave Sam an encouraging smile.

  “If you’d like. I am on a different track than the rest of the class.”

  “Miss Featherstone told me,” she said. “She thought you might want someone to try out your ideas.”

  Sam frowned. “But the rest of the class…”

  She smiled again. “I’m a bit ahead of the rest. My older brother is apprenticing to be a soldier, and he taught me the wards that we will go over in this class.”

  “A soldier?” Sam asked.

  Glory nodded. “They put down traps and wards on a battlefield before they fight, as well as defeat the enemy’s attempts to do the same thing. We are a family Havetta-blessed with strong magic.”

  Sam sat up a bit straighter. “How do they defeat a ward?”

  “They use a gold-tipped spear. Gold and pollen don’t mix.”

  New information, Sam thought. “No one told me about that.”

  “Why should they? You can’t work pollen.”

  Sam grinned. “But I could defeat it if I could find wards that I couldn’t see. Like a blind man, I could tap out where danger might lie if I had something that would deactivate a ward.” He wrote down his idea.

  “Can I still help?”

  Sam continued his grin. “I’d be happy to have you help.”

  He looked up at Miss Featherstone, watching them from the front of the class. She gave him a smile and a nod. So the teacher had put the girl up to it. Sam didn’t care. She had already given him a great idea, and he would need someone to help him develop an anti-pollen wand.

  “Can you keep the wand thing a secret?”

  Glory’s eyes sparkled when she smiled and nodded. “Of course. What other ideas do you have?”

  “I’d like to cushion the wheels of the cart,” Sam said. “Maybe a ring of sturdier pollen surrounding the wheels would help them roll more smoothly. I don’t know how durable such a thing would be.”

  She clapped her hands. “That is a wonderful idea! My father makes wheels for carriages, wagons, and carts. He buys your father’s iron rims, but this is different,” she said. “We can try it out after school. It shouldn’t take too long.”

  Miss Featherstone tapped her rod on her desk.

  “I have to go to my seat, now,” Glory said.

  Sam watched her walk to the front and talk to the girl who sat next to her. They turned to look at Sam, but he quickly turned his eyes to the teacher. He put his hands to his face and felt exceptionally warm cheeks.

  Miss Featherstone began to lecture on how wards were made. “We talked about wards on the first day of class. They are created with multiple layers of pollen, each layer having a different characteristic. Wards can be dangerous,” she said, “especially those with exploding pollen.”

  The class sound level grew when she said it. Sam had heard of exploding pollen before, but he had never understood how it could be made.

  “The secret to exploding pollen is to create pollen with different characteristics. Few can make the exploding layers because you have to have very good command to produce the pollen and then control the thickness of the layers to a precise level. When the active layers are sandwiched in between inert pollen layers, the ward is made. When touched, the middle inert layer, which is very, very thin, dissipates, and then the two active layers combine quickly and violently, creating an explosion.”

  Sam raised his hand. “What keeps the ward from exploding while it is being made? It sounds very dangerous for the ward maker.”

  “Good question, Sam,” she said. “The middle inert layer is carefully placed after the first active layer has been made. The key to an explosive ward is to make the middle layer thin. We will begin with that. It is similar to the technique women use to make their veils.”

  Boys in the class groaned when they were told they would have to make veils. That was something girls learned to do before they were married. If Sam was able to do pollen magic, he would be groaning along with the others, but the idea of pollen layers intrigued him. The idea of layers in everything, including Mr. Washjoy’s pastries intrigued him.

  With pencil in hand, Sam wrote down everything Miss Featherstone taught. His mind whirled with possibilities of things with layers that pollen might do. But then he stopped. His imagination was useless applied to pollen, so he thought more about wards.

  The active layer concept eluded him. He couldn’t figure out how someone would be able to make pollen so different. Maybe that was behind what teaching wards to fourteen-year-olds was all about. Perhaps that was something that he would never be able to fully grasp. That caused a sigh. A few students looked at him, but then turned their heads back towards the teacher.

  ~

  School ended with Sam’s mind still working through the ward concept. Glory walked up to him.

  “Ready?” she said with a smile.

  “Oh,” Sam said, but then he remembered why she sought him out. “Let’s go right now, so I can get my deliveries out.”

  On their way to the bakery, Sam asked, “Do you know how to make explosive pollen?”

  Glory reddened a bit, showing her answer. “No. My brother says it is too dangerous for us to know.”

  “Then why is Miss Featherstone teaching us?”

  She cleared her throat. “We will learn a very weak ward. Real explosive pollen is very dangerous. My brother told me that if anyone who makes a ward that will produce a flash or a little smoke will be wildly successful. Most students won’t be able to do anything with their wards.

  “Smoke like a toy?” Sam said. “I guess that is more appropriate for us.”

  “That’s what my brother said. Do you have any idea what you want covering the wheels?”

  “It can’t be as soft as a cushion, or it won’t roll very well. Harder than your palm.” Sam put out his hand and pressed the outside of this hand. “Maybe like a melon that won’t break. Hard on the outside, but softer on the inside, made up of layers like a ward. If I fill up the cart, the wheels should still smoothly roll over cobbles.”

  “I think I know what you mean.”

  They walked directly to the back of the bakery where the cart sat. Sam tested the cushion and felt the invisible resistance. It seemed to be the same. “I’ll tilt the wagon over on one side.”

  Glory went to work, but Sam couldn’t see a thing as she moved her hands around the wheel. She must have used layers since she would stop and feel her work, as well as look at it.

  “Try this,” she said.

  Sam touched the air above the wheels and lowered his hand until he felt the wheel. His hand was more than an inch above the surface. He pressed his thumb into the cushioning, and it hardly moved.

  “I think that is hard enough,” Sam said. “Can you put the same amount of pollen around each tire? I think it has to be smooth throughout so the wheel won’t wobble.”

  Glory laughed. “I’ve been a
round wheels all my life. I’m sure I know what to do.”

  And indeed she did. The wheels now sported pollen rims that helped cushion the jolting of the cart while rolling on the cobblestones, and the clatter was quieter, as well, when they tested it.

  “That was a great idea,” Glory said as she waved goodbye, tearing into another Washjoy pastry.

  Sam grinned as he walked down the street with the cart full of deliveries. He was more confident about Mr. Washjoy’s products arriving intact at the destination. If it looked like rain, Sam would have to ask one of them to put a layer of waterproof pollen over a cloth that would protect the cart’s contents, and he would be all set.

  School continued, but Glory went back to ignoring Sam. He had thought they were friends, but that hadn’t lasted any longer than the wheel episode, so he went back to writing notes. The wards were interesting, but when the best anyone could do was a little smoke that barely rose from the violated ward, Sam’s enthusiasm waned.

  He walked in to dinner after a wet delivery day. At least the deliveries were dry with the cover that Mrs. Washjoy had made. Rolph sat down at the kitchen table. Sam’s father was not in a good mood.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” Tessa said to her husband.

  “That damn Wheeler invented a new wheel rim. He calls them ‘tires,’ and that is going to cut into my iron rim business. I’ve got Mark checking out how many he’s sold in the town. He’ll be late for dinner.”

  “What’s a tire?” Sam asked.

  “It is a hard pollen rim with a bit of cushion. It makes for a smoother riding wheel, so carriages and wagons won’t jitter so much. Wheeler must have gotten the idea from you since it is exactly what you had someone put on your delivery cart,” Rolph said.

  Sam’s father surprised him. He’d never shown his wheels to his father. He wondered when he had taken time to see him on his deliveries. “It was my idea, but do you know who made them for my cart?” Sam said.

  Sam’s mother and father looked expectantly.

  “Glory Wheeler. I thought it was odd that she didn’t talk to me after I gave her the idea. I thought she was a friend, but she stole my idea.”

  “You thought of that?” Tru asked.

  Sam nodded. “I thought of cushions inside the cart for keeping Mr. Washjoy’s baked goods from crumbling as I went out on deliveries. Glory helped make them. Then I had the idea for doing the same thing for the wheels.” Sam shrugged.

  “And she dumped you right after?”

  Sam nodded. “I didn’t have any kind of relationship with her, so there wasn’t anything worth dumping. I thought she was just a friend. ‘Was’ is right.” He shook his head. “It’s easy to trust people.”

  “And it’s easy to get burned. I learned that the hard way at the smithy,” Rolph said. “Trust comes through knowing people for a long time. Some people can change, though. You just have to be careful. What a person tells you and what they really mean or feel can be totally different. Do you think the Wheeler girl deceived you?”

  Sam shook his head. “No. We didn’t talk about using the idea for carriages. I asked her to make the tires, as you called them, and she made them just like I described them. I couldn’t see the things, but I could feel the difference.”

  “Have you had any other bright ideas?” Rolph asked.

  “I need a wand with a golden tip.” Sam thought of Glory’s brother using a gold-tipped pole.

  Tru laughed. “For popping pollen balloons? You can’t even see them.”

  Sam smiled. “So I don’t step on wards.”

  Addy chimed in. “Oh. You can’t see them. Part of a ward’s effectiveness is that people can see one and stay away.”

  “So you don’t really need to make a ward, just something that looks like one?” Sam asked.

  His sister giggled. “You catch on fast, Sam.”

  “Not fast enough,” he muttered.

  “Something like a poker?” Tru asked. “Come by the shop tomorrow after your deliveries. I think I can make something that will work. You’ll have to pay for the gold. It’s expensive.”

  “So are rented books,” Sam said.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ~

  M ARK SNEERED LIKE HE USUALLY DID when Sam entered the smithy. Sam ignored him when he spotted Tru working on a wheel rim.

  “Good news about the tires, Sam,” Tru said, glancing at Mark. “They don’t appear to hold up for long. Iron-shod wheels won’t go out of style immediately.”

  “Just like horseshoes?” Sam said.

  “Oh. You think Wheeler will make them harder?” Tru asked.

  Sam felt good that his brother was actually asking him about pollen stuff. “Sure. My wheels are working just fine, but bakery goods aren’t very heavy like a horse-drawn carriage. The idea is just starting to be worked on.”

  “Right. Come over here.”

  Sam followed Tru inside the forging room. He immediately began to sweat in the heat. Tru held up a thin black iron rod with a yellow tip. “It’s a fire poker that a customer rejected. I ground the point down, and Dad painted gold on the tip. He said you could reimburse him later. He had some scrap gold paint around from making gold-tipped fencing for a customer in Mountain View,” he said, handing the wand to Sam.

  The gold tip covered a machined point. The rod was thin, but just thick enough to keep it from bending when Sam tried. “I’d make you a pollen sheath,” Tru said, “but you’d never be able to find it. Dad said you could use some scrap leather in the assembly room.

  “Thanks,” Sam said. “I really appreciate it.”

  “Don’t be stingy if you come up with any other ideas.”

  Sam couldn’t help but smile. “I won’t!”

  It didn’t take him long to grab the materials to make a sheath at home. He never felt comfortable in the shop, especially with Mark always glaring at him. His father had talked about trust. Sam would never trust Mark, who always bumped him or shoved him whenever he had a chance.

  The next day he appeared in school with his pollen wand. Sam knew that gold decomposed pollen. If he used the poker, he would make a hole in his wheels and start an increased degradation to the cushions in his delivery cart through their reaction to gold. He didn’t see himself as a threat since one had to see pollen objects before they could destroy them. Burning with an open flame did the same thing to the stuff, but the stink of burning pollen couldn’t be hidden.

  He only had two deliveries before school and arrived a bit early. Miss Featherstone sat at her desk making notes.

  “I have something to show you,” Sam said. He pulled the poker out and laid it on her desk.

  “A gold tip? Is this some kind of poker?” Miss Featherstone said.

  Sam nodded. “I call it a wand. I won’t have to worry about running into anything made of pollen,” he said. “I was worried about Gob or Wally putting an exploding ward on my seat or on my desk.”

  “And this will eliminate the ward?” she asked.

  Sam shook his head. “I don’t have any idea. I don’t exactly know what it will do when I touch pollen with it. The gold should hasten the dessication of pollen.”

  “Where did you get this idea?”

  “From Glory Wheeler. Her brother is an apprentice in the army. They use poles with gold tips to set off wards so soldiers won’t get hurt.” Getting the idea from Glory was the best part, for Sam. He didn’t mind paying her back for stealing his tire idea.

  “Do you want to try it today?”

  Sam nodded. “I do. If it doesn’t work, I won’t bother carrying it around.” Sam didn’t want to look stupid wearing a fire poker at his waist, but if the wand worked, he’d have an implement that gave him a little control over the magic that he lacked.

  With sweaty hands, Sam waited for class to start.

  “Today I will grade you on how quickly you make wards,” Miss Featherstone said. “Follow me as I go.”

  She led them through the various steps. Most of the class had successfully m
ade the two different kinds of active layers. When the final covering had been made, she called Sam up to the front.

  “We have an experiment today. Sam has brought a wand that should defeat wards.” The teacher looked at Sam and nodded.

  Sam didn’t use the belt loop that he had put on the case. He handled it from the middle until he reached the front of the class. Everyone looked expectantly as he drew the wand from the soft leather sheath.

  “I can’t see the wards,” he said to Miss Featherstone. “If you would point out the center.”

  She smiled at Sam and pointed in the middle of a desk and drew her hand back. Sam took a deep breath and touched the ward with the golden tip. Nothing happened that he could see.

  “Class, did you notice how the ward withdrew from the gold? Gold repels pollen.”

  He flipped the wand around and touched a slightly different spot with the bottom end of his wand. A loud pop echoed through the classroom. A scorch mark appeared on the desk.

  Miss Featherstone took a damp rag from a pollen dish on her desk and wiped the mark off the surface. “The explosion that you have made is weak and only dirties the desks,” she said.

  “Sam, please touch the iron part to the wards.”

  The two of them walked through the class. A few of the students had been successful. Gob Carter had failed, and he sneered at Sam. What else was new?

  The last ward was Glory Wheeler’s. She looked nervously at Miss Featherstone. That meant something bad, Sam thought. Did she find out how to make a more potent explosion? He felt she had the ability. When she backed away, Sam decided he wasn’t going to ignite that ward. He switched back to his golden tip and ran it back and forth through the ward, estimating where the pollen might be.

  “Is it deactivated?” Sam asked.

  Miss Featherstone pointed to a corner. “Just this little bit.”

  “Stand back.” Sam extended the iron tip as far as he could and touched the ward.

  A sound reminiscent of a thunderclap reverberated around the room. A small fire burned on a corner of Glory’s desk. Sam grabbed Miss Featherstone’s wet rag from her limp fingers. The woman appeared shocked by the potency of the ward. He rubbed the fire out.