The Shatterproof Magician (The Inscrutable Paris Beaufont Book 4)

by Sarah Noffke

  There it was. FGA didn’t want a magician here. How long would Headmistress Starr be able to protect Paris? Things weren’t getting better since her parents were back. They were somehow getting worse. She desperately wanted them to wake up and help her, but instinctively, she knew she had to help herself. Beaufonts saved themselves.

  Instead of answering, Paris’ eyes flickered to the screen where the indulgent display by Cleopatra was still playing. She would have disregarded it, but as the pharaoh approached Marc Antony, Paris caught the image of a slender black cat with unique markings in the background. She thought she had to be really overstressed because she could have sworn the cat from Cleopatra’s time looked right at her and winked.

  Chapter Seven

  Paris had to be losing her mind. She was pretty confident about that once she entered Transformative Magic class. It was on the Enchanted Grounds, out beside the Bewilder Forest.

  The class was all gathered around none other than the slender black cat from the video of Cleopatra and Marc Antony. Paris knew it was the one who had winked at her because of the unique markings. It was all black and small but had white on each of its paws and a spot under its chin. There was also something special in the feline’s eyes that made her think it had to be the same cat from the video clip. But how?

  She shook her head as she joined the class, trying to shake away the strangeness of seeing the cat right after the video from 60 BC or whenever they took it or however they took it. Magic was weird, and she was increasingly learning that time was even weirder.

  When she questioned Papa Creola about how her parents could have only been gone twenty-four hours in the other world, but fifteen years had passed here, he had explained that time didn’t move linearly. He said the absolute best explanation of how time progressed was from an episode of Doctor Who where the tenth Doctor explained time as, “a big ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff.”

  When she questioned him on the legitimacy of using a science fiction show to explain something that was his job, the father of time said the show had him figured out in many regards.

  Events in time didn’t happen in sequences as many expected. It moved differently depending on the person and place. It was volatile, and others could mess with it at will. That had been Liv’s job for Papa Creola, policing those who messed with time, which often created holes in the fabric of the universe.

  A chill ran down Paris’ back as she thought about all this and regarded the cat. Everyone in the class was staring at the black cat with white markings in the middle of the circle with curiosity. However, none of them seemed as unnerved by it as Paris. Had she been the only one to see it in the video? The animal did look straight at her, and she could have sworn it winked. Plus, it was in the background of a scene with many things happening with Cleopatra and her entourage.

  Maybe she’d imagined it, Paris reasoned, blinking at the cat.

  As if the act had cleared her vision, the cat suddenly transformed, rising through the air until it took the shape of none other than Mae Ling, the fairy godmother. She glanced around at the class, wearing a neutral expression and her usual plain black clothes. Most all of the students let out gasps of surprise and awe.

  “Welcome to Transformative Magic, where you will learn not only how to transform objects for your jobs as fairy godmothers, but you’ll learn how to transform yourself.”

  She turned and looked directly at Paris, then did something that made another chill run down her spine. The fairy godmother winked like the cat from the video.

  Chapter Eight

  Yep, I’ve lost my mind, Paris concluded as Mae Ling refocused on the class.

  It was bizarre to think that the fairy godmother had been there when Cleopatra and Marc Antony had been courting. However, Agent Topaz had said that FGA had been behind it, so a fairy godmother would have been involved and maybe more than one.

  Even stranger was how Mae Ling had known to look at the “camera” of sorts and wink, then did it just now. More importantly, why? It always seemed that Mae Ling was trying to orchestrate something for Paris or communicate something but without doing it directly. It had been the fairy godmother who urged Paris to rebel from the beginning. She suspected the other woman was the reason she got so many opportunities that most wouldn’t at the college.

  “As you all know, fairies can’t easily do magic without having an object to focus our powers,” Mae Ling began, pacing the circle and glancing at the students. “Many of you have wands or tools you use when doing spells that require a lot of energy. That’s very helpful, but I’m going to teach you how to turn objects into things. Transform them, if you will, so you can create the right environment for your Cinderella and Prince Charming. Ambiance is everything when trying to set a romantic scene.”

  “Is this like when Cinderella’s fairy godmother turned the pumpkin into a coach and the mice into coachmen?” Paris questioned.

  “Well, the story comes from somewhere, I’m sure you realize,” Mae Ling answered.

  Something from the Art of Love class before was still fuming inside Paris. She couldn’t get over this notion that fairy godmothers orchestrated matches for only the elite and wealthy. It seemed discriminatory and restrictive when others deserved to find love.

  Usually, Paris wouldn’t have cared, but she was becoming a fairy godmother and didn’t want to be a part of something so selective. She didn’t wish love and romance for herself, but she knew it was difficult for many to find it. If fairy godmothers could spread love and bring people together, they should—no matter who they were or how much they had in their bank account.

  “The pumpkin is a good example for our studies,” Mae Ling continued, striding over to a tree outside the circle of students. She plucked a shiny red apple from a low-hanging branch and held it up. “Fruit is good for creating music.” She tapped the apple with her finger, and it disappeared. A melodic tune filled the air from an unseen source. It was instantly captivating. Again, this met with impressed noises from the students.

  “Flowers created ideal weather,” Mae Ling added over the music. “Vegetables change lighting, which is crucial for setting the mood in romantic situations. Objects like books, furniture, and clothes can become whatever you need in your matchmaking situation.”

  Most of the students were quickly jotting down notes as they stood around. Paris had found that she didn’t need to take notes in her classes. Headmistress Starr had explained this was because of her magician blood. They were naturally the smarter of the magical races and excelled in learning where it was normally more difficult for fairies to retain information.

  “How do we transform ourselves?” a student by the name of Moon Sparkle asked.

  “You don’t,” Mae Ling answered at once, a serious expression on her face. “Transforming yourself is very advanced magic and requires a great deal of power. If anything goes wrong, you risk getting stuck in that form for good. As an animal, you will be unable to talk or do any magic so it’s unlikely you’d be able to reverse the effects. There are also cases where people didn’t transform all the way, and you can imagine the results.”

  Many around the class shuddered, probably picturing a half-cat, half-person.

  “You transformed yourself,” a student called Poppy pointed out.

  “I’ve been doing magic for a very long time,” Mae Ling countered. “A time will come for some of you when you’re ready, and I’ll teach you. First, you must master transforming objects for your matchmaking missions.”

  “How do we know what to transform when trying to get two people to fall in love?” a student named Petal asked.

  “Good question,” Mae Ling answered. “Bringing two people together is an art form that requires creativity. That’s part of what you’re learning here, but as we saw recently with the Amelia Rose and Grayson McGregor case, it’s about strategy too, which I think we’ve ignored for too long.” She gave Paris a very pointed look, making her slightly embarrassed. “You see, it’
s all about creating an opportunity two people need to fall for each other. Sometimes that’s simply throwing them together. Sometimes that means making them stranded in a rainstorm. Or it might be as traditional as ensuring their date is full of romantic elements. That will always depend on the two people you’re matching. The key is to know your Cinderellas and Prince Charmings, to understand what will work for them.”

  “Like with Cleopatra,” Poppy offered. “The FGA knew that Marc Antony liked elaborate displays so she made a grand entrance when she met him.”

  Mae Ling nodded. “That’s a good example.”

  “Were you the fairy godmother who worked on that mission?” Paris asked, earning many scrutinizing gazes.

  Becky Montgomery laughed rudely. “Fairies live a long time but not that long.”

  “Fairy godmothers live longer though,” Petal argued.

  “Not that long,” Becky fired back.

  “I wasn’t assigned to that case,” Mae Ling stated, returning her attention to Paris. “I don’t know that I approve of that union, but of course, I’m not an agent and don’t assign cases.”

  Paris studied the fairy godmother. There was something she wasn’t saying. She didn’t refute that she could have been there at the union of Cleopatra and Marc Antony. There was something very mysterious about Mae Ling, and her power wasn’t to be underestimated.

  “Now,” Mae Ling pressed her hands together in front of her, “please find an object and practice transforming it into something else. I’ll come around to help you but do keep in mind, it is unlikely that you’ll be successful today or any time soon. The art of transformation, even on objects, is incredibly difficult. Pick a small object to start with and remember what it has the potential to become. It’s important to remember there are limits for what you can transform specific items into. A piece of fruit can’t become anything but a piece of art. Likewise, a living creature can only become another living creature.”

  For the third instance recently, a chill ran down Paris’ spine, but this time, she wasn’t entirely sure why. It seemed that this piece of information was important.

  Chapter Nine

  “Now that’s unfair,” Christine complained when Paris turned a small rock into a spoon. “You did that after only a few times of trying.”

  Paris, feeling everyone’s eyes on her rather than transformative magic, lowered her chin and blushed. “It was luck.”

  “Magic is never about luck.” Mae Ling arrived at her side and appraised the shiny metal spoon. “It was smart to choose to turn the stone into a utensil. That’s the lesson I was trying to convey about potentials. A piece of wood has more of a chance of becoming a table than a car.”

  Christine nudged the twig she was trying to transform and muttered, “Become a coaster already.”

  It simply remained a twig.

  Mae Ling pointed at the edge of the Bewilder Forest, where many students were foraging for things they could try and transform. They’d been at it for over an hour, and many had gone through several objects, hoping to find one that changed. No one had any “luck” until Paris. “Go and find some bark. I think that makes for a better coaster than a twig. Turning something slender into something flat takes more skill than you possess yet.”

  Christine rolled her eyes. “Not all of us were born with a silver spoon in our mouth in terms of magic.” She glanced at Paris while pointing at her spoon. However, a sly grin graced her mouth as she strode for the Bewilder Forest to fetch a piece of bark.

  Mae Ling turned to Paris with a proud look in her eyes. “Good work successfully transforming your item.”

  “It’s because I’m a magician, isn’t it?” Paris picked up her spoon and checked it.

  “It’s because you’re you,” Mae Ling stated. “I know many magicians who can’t change the way they think, let alone turn an object into something else.”

  Paris shrugged, not willing to abandon her search for the reason she’d been successful with transformations in her first lesson. “I do have founders’ blood as a Royal for the House of Fourteen.”

  “You also have a lot on your mind and weighing on your heart,” Mae Ling argued. “Under that stress, you were still able to do something incredibly complex.”

  “I work better under pressure,” Paris admitted.

  Mae Ling nodded. “I do as well.”

  “Can I ask you something?” Paris glanced around, ensuring none of the other students were close to them. Most had scattered around the Enchanted Grounds or Bewilder Forest, foraging for objects or deep in concentration trying to transform something.

  “Yes, that was me,” Mae Ling said as if Paris had already asked her burning question.

  “The cat in the video of Cleopatra and Marc Antony?” Paris asked, needing to ensure they were talking about the same thing.

  The fairy godmother nodded.

  “Okay, well, that brings up a lot of questions,” Paris began, suddenly overwhelmed. “Like, how did you know I was going to ask that? Why were you looking directly at me in the video? Why did you wink? Why did you choose to be in cat form directly after that lesson? What exactly are you trying to tell me?”

  “To begin, I’m blessed with certain insights,” Mae Ling stated. “Furthermore, as fairy godmothers—as I mentioned to the class—it’s about creatively choosing how you deal with charges. The little things we do can help those on their paths.”

  “Are you fairy godmothering me?” Paris knew that Mae Ling guided her Aunt Sophia. Apparently, the fairy godmother also worked outside the boundaries of matchmaking.

  “I’m simply helping you on your path.”

  Paris scratched her head. “I’m not sure I understand how. I mean, when I saw you in the video, it got my attention, and it felt like an endorsement.”

  “Of what?” Mae Ling challenged.

  “Of my idea that our job shouldn’t only be about pairing up the wealthy and powerful.”

  The fairy godmother nodded. “I agree. I’ve never been much for the idea myself.”

  “Then why don’t you challenge it?” Paris asked. “Why, again, do you encourage me to rebel, but you don’t?”

  Mae Ling pointed at her plain clothes, different than all the other fairy godmothers and students. “I believe I do. I also work outside the area of matchmaking because that’s my choice. However, as I’ve told you before, I’m not a change agent. That role is reserved for very rare and few people.”

  Paris pointed at herself. “Me? You think I’m a change agent?”

  Mae Ling didn’t answer, but the glint in her eyes was enough.

  “Well, then how were you in the past? That would be a very long time for a fairy godmother to live.”

  A rare smile flickered to Mae Ling’s mouth. “Therein lies the other reason behind it all. I needed you to ask that question so I could provide you with this important answer. It is much easier for animals, or those transformed into animals, to time travel. Papa Creola doesn’t allow it normally, but it doesn’t affect the fabric of time as much when an animal travels through history.”

  “What?” Paris hadn’t at all expected that answer. “You time-traveled to be in the video? All so I’d ask that question, and you could provide me with that information. I’m really confused now.”

  Mae Ling nodded. “Which means you won’t stop until you understand this and use the information for what it’s intended.”

  “Will you please fill in the gaps?” Paris begged. “I have a lot going on, and I’m not looking to solve another riddle.”

  “Think about what you’ve learned today, and I’m sure it will lead you in the right direction.” Mae Ling walked away at once, off to assist other students.

  Paris wanted to yell, argue, and run after her, but she knew it would do no good. Instead, she did as Mae Ling suggested and thought about what she’d learned, the parts that had chilled her coming to mind.

  She knew that living creatures could only be transformed into other living creatures. Now she
knew that animals could time travel more easily. Finally, she’d learned that when transformations went wrong, the creature got stuck.

  Her eyes widened at the realization. It all made so much sense, and yet it didn’t add up. It explained so much about Faraday, except for the fact that he could talk.

  Chapter Ten

  Straight away, Paris sped for her room, hoping to catch Faraday taking a nap or completing a chemistry lab experiment or whatever he did while she was in classes. However, there was no sign of the talking squirrel in her room.

  Deciding to skip lunch to hunt around the Enchanted Grounds for Faraday, Paris made her way back down to the mansion's first floor. She had to have her questions answered. He might have some reason that prevented him from telling her things, but now that she knew questions to ask, she thought she could pull the information out of him—even if it was a simple game of twenty questions.

  The smells from the dining hall sought to lure Paris to the other side of the fairy godmother estate, but she sped toward the entrance, thinking she might find Faraday on the front lawn. She was almost to the front door when Headmistress Starr’s open office door caught her attention.

  Paris wanted to find Faraday, but her curiosity over this new instructor, Agent Topaz, was also begging for answers. She paused at the open door to peek around the frame.

  To her relief, the headmistress was hunched over her desk, scribbling on a thick piece of pink parchment with her feather quill. She didn’t look deep in concentration but rather frustrated as she crossed out one word and sat back to reread what she’d written.

  Knocking on the doorframe, Paris called, “Headmistress Starr? I’m sorry to interrupt you but…”

  Willow glanced up, her long grayish-blue hair framing her face. A welcoming smile replaced her prior expression of stress.