by Viola Grace
What are you going to make?
Magic detection strips.
So... I can’t shred this stuff?
She grinned and said out loud. “Nope, behave.”
Setting up in the lab was fun. Mr. E perched on a tall stool, the books were open in front of her, and Reegar was telling her where to find the ingredients.
“I have never seen anyone combine those spells before.”
She wrinkled her nose. “They seem right. Each has bits that I need for this to work.”
“What if it blows?”
Imara laughed, “That is what Mr. E is for. He can at least repurpose my spectre so that I don’t hang around and pester you. Then, he will go on to the next family member in line for him, or he will head to a different family. Either way, I am prepared for anything.”
“I have never met anyone before you that had such a detachment for their life.”
“I like being alive; I am just accepting that this isn’t all there is.” She took a deep breath, checked that she had all her supplies and equipment ready, and started to mix and chant with the white paper neatly settled next to the work area.
Hours went by with only gentle direction from Reegar and method critiques from Mr. E.
The light purple liquid was a small result for such a long effort. “Well, here goes.”
With gloved hands, she picked up the small basting brush and painted the paper, front and back. The line with tiny clips was ready to hold the bespelled paper as it dried.
The small bowl of liquid covered twelve pages, absorbed quickly, and when it was used up, the light flashed brilliantly when Imara soaked the bowl and brush in the sink.
“Ouch. Okay, so it is water sensitive. Good to know.”
Reegar laughed. “I thought it would be. A few of your ingredients are thirsty.”
She snorted. “I know. I didn’t think it would be that abrupt when they touched water.”
The rest of the dishes were less violent. She was able to clear all the implements and put them on the drying rack without incident.
She checked the papers’ progress, but they were still drying. “I am going to have to warn Bara about that.”
“She has hung a few experiments out to dry, so I am sure she will be understanding.” Reegar looked toward the line but kept his distance.
“I will have to remember to put gloves on before I move them.” She muttered it to herself and double-checked her notes before closing her book and the others.
When everything was ready, she removed the gloves and draped them over the edge of the sink. “Okay, I think I am done for the night.”
Good. It is past your bedtime.
She checked her watch and cursed. “Dammit. Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
Reegar inferred her meaning. “You were engaged in creative spell combinations, I haven’t seen that kind of enthusiasm in decades.”
She muttered as she left the lab, dropped the books off at the study table and headed to bed. If she were lucky, she would get four hours of sleep.
Mr. E followed her, chortling in her thoughts. As she brushed her teeth, he snickered so she accidentally splashed him with water, and he hissed and skittered.
She apologized profusely and towelled him dry. She kept the part of her mind that he had casual access to calm with a hint of sympathy. The rest of her was snickering.
She only had one class left in the short week, so as long as she could get through the first class in household spell work, she would be fine.
She was snickering at herself as she fell asleep. She was going to get her butt kicked.
Chapter Six
“Domestic spell work doesn’t involve any fancy chants or noxious potions. You use your mind, your power, and your control over the elements to keep your environment clean and under your control. In my class, it is easy to see the result of your study and focus. Your assignment is either clean, or it isn’t.” Magus Beelin paced back and forth in front of the rows of desks.
Imara held in her yawns as the instructor went on about what she expected of the class. She sat blinking in surprise when the class got practical in a rush.
“I want each one of you to come here and try and move this broom.”
The class members got to their feet and shuffled to the area that Magus Beelin was pointing to. “Each of you will have thirty seconds to move the broom. Anyone who can do it is guaranteed a passing grade on the first test.”
Imara hung back and tried to think of what she knew about telekinetic spells. There weren’t any.
The timer chimed, and the first candidate shuffled forward. The mage strained from his place in line and tried to beckon the broom toward them. Nothing.
The next member of the class tried, and there was no success.
The minutes shot past, and soon, Imara was the only student who hadn’t tried. The others were all seated and defeated.
The timer started, and Imara asked, “May I move?”
The magus quirked her lips. “Yes.”
Imara walked to the broom and brought it back to the magus. The gasps and cries of the shocked students echoed in her ears.
Magus Beelin smiled, “Why did you walk to it?”
“It would have taken more effort to summon it.”
At the nodded dismissal, Imara walked back to her seat, ignoring the glares of her classmates.
“That student has just proven a point you need to remember. The magic involved takes just as much from you as doing it by hand. The speed gained is a trade-off for your personal energy. There is nothing as draining as housework, and that includes those who can use an enchantment as well as those who work with their hands.”
She set the broom back in its stand. “There are no spells for sweeping. The amount of control would mean you were stuck staring at the broom the entire time. Get one of those vacuuming robots if that is your only concern. If you want to sweep quickly, run a summoning spell for all dirt in your house and direct it to a bucket. That is not the first spell we will be working on, but it is on the list.”
Magus Beelin raised her head. “The first spell work we are going to get into is stain removal. You are going to run into all kinds of substances here, and being able to clean your own clothing is important. From now on, come to this class prepared to get filthy so we can all work from the same baseline.”
She waved her hands in the air. “Our classes will let you unclog a toilet, repair shattered glass, and get your room ready for your parents to drop in in under a minute. You will feel the strain, but you won’t look like a slob.”
The class chuckled and then sat back as the instruction began.
Hours later, Imara packed up her notebooks, put her pencil away and looked in satisfaction at the spot on her t-shirt that had been stained with oil an hour earlier. Spot removal was definitely something she could manage.
As she left her desk, Mr. E resumed his position on her shoulder. I never learned to do that kind of thing. I guess it would have been useful.
Learning how to take care of your own environment is always useful.
“Ms. Mirrin.” The magus stopped her from leaving.
“Yes, Magus Beelin?”
“You have one hundred percent for the next test. Use the option wisely and study for the subsequent tests. The exam will be particularly taxing, so build up your stamina.”
“Yes, Magus. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me; you are the one who figured out manual labour would do the trick better than untrained magic.”
“May I still take the test?” She asked cautiously.
The magus’s smile was wide. “Hm, you do appreciate the education you are getting here.”
“If I don’t take the test, Magus Beelin, how will I know if I am ready for the next one?”
“Of course, you can take the test. I will even let you know how you did, but you will still pass, regardless.”
“I would r
ather earn a passing grade.”
The magus patted her on the shoulder. “You already did.”
Mr. E purred and rubbed his cheek against Imara’s. It was a signal to shut up and move along.
“Thank you, Magus. Have a good day.”
“Have a good weekend, Mirrin. You have your work cut out for you.”
Imara nodded and left the classroom. Removing the small spot of oil had exhausted her, and now that the weekend was looming, she had a nap planned before she tackled her homework.
The knock on her door was persistent.
“What?” Imara sat up and rubbed her eyes.
“Come on, you are getting off campus, and we are going out to dinner. My treat.” Bara’s voice was desperate.
Imara checked to make sure she still had her clothing on and opened her door. Bara was standing there, hair frazzled and her fingers wrapped in gauze and tape.
“Weaving kicking your ass?” Imara grabbed her shoes and put them on.
“Yes. I don’t know how mages have done it for centuries.” She sighed and slumped her shoulders.
Imara snickered as she stood. “They specialize. You are trying to specialize in everything. It isn’t always going to work.”
Bara groaned. “I know, but I have to try. It is a compulsion to try and get through all the course offerings, so I know where I want to direct my focus in the future.”
“Right. Makes sense even if it is a little hard on you. Can I bring Mr. E?”
“We are going to be eating at a sit-down restaurant, so I would suggest you leave him here unless he can go invisible.”
Mr. E was stretching on the pillow where he slept. I can. The question is do I want to go out with two girls who are going to talk about me being cute and fluffy?
Imara grinned. “Your choice, Mr. E. I want to grab one of those tester packs before we go, Bara. Nothing like a road test out in the real world.”
Imara grabbed her bag and headed out of the dorm area, down the stairs, and down the hall to the lab. The vials of test strips that she had cut before her nap were all lined up with wooden pincers rubber banded to their exteriors. She settled one of the vials on the interior pocket of her bag and grinned at Bara. “So, you said it was your treat?”
“Yeah, can you drive? My hands are a little raw.”
“Sure. Let’s go.”
With no sign of her familiar, Imara headed out with Bara and helped her open the car door. Bara acted as navigator, and they cruised through the gates of the college and into the town, resting in the valley below.
They parked in the lot of an Italian style restaurant, and Bara accepted her help getting out of the car. Her hands were in really rough shape.
“Maybe you should go to a medical centre.”
“They would have a bit of trouble with my injuries. They are all psychosomatic.” Bara made a face.
“What?”
“My fingers got sensitive, so I wrapped them up. I am not actually that injured beyond a few blisters.”
Imara snickered as they headed for the building. “So, you are trying to dissuade yourself?”
“Yup. I know my triggers.”
They waited and then followed a young woman to a booth.
Imara took her menu and looked it over. She casually mentioned, “You seem to have a good grip on your situation.”
Bara grinned and peeked over her menu. “My entire family is nuts. Arming myself by learning what sets me off, what I need to learn, and how I get around my own neurosis is my permanent occupation.”
“Wow... that is... wow.”
“Yeah, I come from a long line of mad mages.” Bara set her menu down. “What about you?”
“Ah, well, you have met my mom.”
“Yeah, that was a little surprising. Explain to me how that is possible again?”
The server came and took their order. Imara ordered lasagne with a side of garlic toast and a salad, Bara opted for spaghetti with meatballs and the same sides.
Once they were sitting with their iced water and the menus were gone, Imara faced the resident advisor of her hall.
“So, why do you want to know the details?”
“I am really curious as to why you don’t know your own mother. I know you told me, but I didn’t pry. I feel like prying today if you are amenable.”
Imara sat back. “Well, from what my mother told me, and what was in my file, the Deepford-Smythes were broke. Plenty of power but no money. The Demiel family had reached the end of their line for interbreeding, so they wanted a powerful bloodline to mix with theirs. Each family had a seventh child program running for extra power, and in the case of the Deepford-Smythes, they didn’t discriminate against the females. They counted them all. The chancellor was the seventh member of her family, and my father was the seventh of his. A contract was signed to produce the desired seventh of seven, and they got married. I think you can guess what happened next.”
“She wasn’t happy.”
“Nope. After each child, she was healed, and the next pregnancy commenced. It was dangerous, and she was treated like a farm animal. She hated it. When Luken and myself were born, the Demiels wanted me discarded as quickly as possible. As the eighth out of the seventh, I wasn’t considered lucky. Luken got that particular designation.”
Bara wove her fingers together and rested her chin on them with her elbows on the table. “What happened then?”
“My mother’s family made arrangements to place me in Sakenta City. Since my mother was planning to divorce my father the moment that the contract was fulfilled, she had a plan for one of the twins. She was surprised that I was a girl but very happy at the same time. An eighth boy would definitely be unlucky, so I was taken away and put into care.”
Their salads arrived, and a few minutes were spent as they munched their way through them.
Bara finally mumbled, “This is better than a soap opera. What happened then?”
“She divorced my father and left her seven sons. She took a teaching position at the college and worked her way up the ladder. She became the chancellor of the college by virtue of her skills, her time at the college, and her family.”
“So, you grew up alone?”
“No, I grew up in one of the regulated placement homes in Sakenta. Folks have magic there, but no one uses it.”
That was enough to redirect Bara’s questions. For the rest of their time in the restaurant, Imara explained how she could grow up as she had without using magic until she was an adult.
“So, how is it you were able to qualify for the college?”
“I didn’t say I didn’t have magic, I just couldn’t do the kind of thing that I am learning now. When I was a teen, I got a job at the Memorial Gardens as an apprentice death keeper. Talking to the dead isn’t considered magic in Sakenta. It is necessary.”
“This is amazing. You worked a night shift during school?”
“Yeah, it is a good thing that being a death keeper pays well. I was trying to save enough for college.”
Bara grinned, “If you are the chancellor’s daughter, you get free tuition.”
“Only if I am legally claimed. I am not. She is the chancellor, and I am Imara. That is all we need to be, though one of my clients in the Memorial Gardens did send enough money to the college to cover my tuition until graduation. It is another reason I am in a hurry. I want to get into the job market and start using the one thing that I am really good at.”
“What is that?”
“Dealing with spectres.” She grinned and waved the last bite of lasagne in the air. “Even the master death keeper said he had never seen anything like my talent.”
She ate the last bite and leaned back. “Thank you. That was delightful.”
“My pleasure. Thank you for driving. So, have you heard about what is going on at the campus?”
“The women turning up powerless?”
“Yeah, that.”
Imara scowled. “I thought that was just a rumour.”
“Nope. One of the girls was in my enchanted textile class. She can’t do anything. She had to go to the dean’s office and have her classes suspended until she can use magic again. The weird thing is she doesn’t know how it happened. She was at a party, blacked out, and woke up without the slightest drop of magic.”
Imara shivered. “That is creepy. Didn’t anyone see anything?”
“No one has reported anything. For now, they are treating it like a frat prank, but I am going to keep an eye on what I eat and drink at the parties.”
Imara sighed. “You could just not go to the parties.”
“Nope. This is part of my college experience. I want to live it to the hilt. Who knows, perhaps restricted socialisation is what drove my relatives insane?”
“Are you sure that you will go nuts?”
“If I don’t take precautions, yes. It is in our bloodline and could even be called a curse. We are driven to do something at all times, and if we stop, the crazy soaks in.”
“Wow. That is harsh.”
Bara paid the bill and slid out of the booth. “I live with my family history just like you live with yours.”
Imara smiled at the point of commonality and followed Bara out of the restaurant.
Chapter Seven
The weekend flew by as Imara immersed herself in her courses and practice. She got a notice that her business course was cancelled due to lack of interest, so that left her with free Mondays. She would just have to make up the course credit elsewhere. Her email to the chancellor requesting permission to dig in the garden had been sent off, so now, she had to wait.
With her Monday free, she practiced her shape shifting and worked on forming wings and claws. The head, neck and torso structure of the bird would wait until she had her instructor watching.
You are doing very well. You haven’t had to use your emergency reversion yet. Mr. E was sitting and chewing on a very naughty claw. He had been working on it for an hour.
“I haven’t transformed past the point where I could ask for help yet. I am pretty sure that when I get into that position, I am going to panic.” She looked at her clawed feet poking out from beneath her bathrobe and the wings poking out of her wide kimono sleeves. Her body was urging her to complete the change, but she wasn’t going to. Rushing a change was a very stupid idea.