When Colin spotted Magdala approaching the table the next morning, he put away the old text he was studying and got to his feet. “Your message said you had something to say?” He crossed his arms. “I’m listening.”
Magdala didn’t want to do this. She wanted to find a way to make Colin help her with the project, the report she’d sent to Dwayne had made it clear that she needed help, but that would make things worse in the long run. So, she did what she promised Francesca she would do. She said, “I’m sorry.”
Colin blinked. “What did you say?”
“I’m sorry. I was being stubborn, high-handed, and unappreciative of you and your work.” Magdala bowed. “I hope we can work together in the future.”
“You’re apologizing?” asked Colin. “You don’t apologize.”
Hiding a wince, Magdala straightened up. “I’m sorry for that too.”
The other nQe mage’s brow wrinkled. “This isn’t a ploy to convince me to come back and work on your Wesen’s project?”
“I do need help,” Magdala let the “your Wesen” comment slide, “but this is about the nQe practicals we’ll have to complete together in the future. When those come, I’ll do better. I’ll be better.”
“I see.” Colin sighed. “I guess I’ll be finding out sooner rather than later. I’m sticking with the project.”
“You are?”
“Not because of your apology, although it’s much appreciated, but because your Wesen-”
“He has a name.” Magdala put her hands on her hips. “You do know it, right?”
“Ah. Right.” It took Colin a moment to recover. “Dwayne Kalan gave Nicky a fire spell vial, and I had the opportunity to-”
“Use it? How did it go? What did it feel…” Magdala’s face heated. “I mean, ahem, w-what did you think of the experience?”
“It was amazing.” Colin’s eyes went distant. “Controlling fire as easily as earth felt amazing.” His face fell. “Of course, it does mean that Qe isn’t different from Ri or Xa, which is galling.”
“I think it’s amazing,” said Magdala. “We’re all part of this greater whole.”
Colin looked away. “Qe magic is supposed to be pri-”
“Good,” Francesca dropped a very heavy canvas bag on the table, “she’s apologized. Mr. Fletcher, you’re still on the project?”
“I am.” Colin shrugged. “I have to see how this works out.”
“Excellent. Any ideas on methodology?”
“Tes, but…” Colin glanced at Magdala.
She gestured for him to continue. “I’m listening.”
“Right. Uh. Just a moment.” Colin pulled notebooks and papers out of his bag. “For the past few days, I’ve been down in the college library, trying to find problems with Resonance Theory. I’ve read everything: Lord Kalan’s papers, the Duchess of Hamms’s rebuttals, Lady Pol’s defense of her conclusions from Yumma.” He glanced at Magdala. “She mentioned that ‘certain parties’ helped her. Was that you and Dwayne?”
Francesca grinned. “Oh, most definitely.”
Magdala’s ears grew hot. “That’s irrelevant. Did you find any problems?”
“Only one.” Colin put a stack of papers on the table. “As described, Resonance Theory doesn’t account for the differences in Proper and Inverse magic.”
“Right.” Magdala winced. “My lord uncle probably never got around to teaching Dwayne about that.”
“What does your- Dwayne have to do with this?” asked Colin.
“Dwayne wrote Lord Kalan’s papers.” Francesca peered at her nails. “I don’t blame him for not knowing about Proper and Inverse magic. I’m a fifth year, and I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”
Both nQe mages stared at her.
“They didn’t teach you about Proper and Inverse the first time they let you cast?” asked Colin.
“‘They’ did not because ‘They’ were Mother,” said Francesca, “and all she did was point at a sail and yell the same spell at me over and over again until I managed to cast it. As I’ve told Mag here, I’ve learned more theory listening to Dwayne defend himself in Professor Corn’s class than I ever did before.”
“What about-“
“NQe mages,” Magdala cut in, “like Colin and I are Inverse. As a Qe mage, you’re Proper.”
“So they’re different names for the same thing?” asked Francesca.
“No,” said Colin, “they’re descriptions of how our magic rotates along the casting axis when applied to a neutral fluid medium like pure oxygen or molten iron.”
Francesca glanced at Magdala. “Meaning?”
“Proper magic twists out and clockwise,” explained Magdala, “and Inverse magic twists in and counterclockwise.”
“I’ll pretend like that was an explanation.” Francesca gestured to Colin’s notes. “What does it have to do with anything?”
“To capture Qe in azade, we need a Proper mage like you,” stated Colin.
Magdala nodded. “That makes sense.”
“Does it?” asked Francesca. “I know you can cast Qe magic.”
“I can but, when I tried earlier ended up making tytumber.”
“Really? That’s really valuable.”
Magdala frowned. “Is it? Dean Bruce implied it was worthless.”
“My point is,” Colin got their attention again, “that we have to take our natural orientations into consideration and make sure we don’t interfere or overwhelm each other.” He pulled a sheet of paper of the pile and placed it on the table. “I’ve drawn a diagram showing what we did wrong last time.”
The diagram depicted three figures - labeled “Qe”, “nQerikwem”, and “nQeanum” - standing around a circle labeled “azade” with wavy lines of different thicknesses and colors connecting them. Assuming red meant Proper, green meant Inverse, and that the thickness of the lines indicated the intensity of the casting, then the fact that the two green lines were so much thicker than the one red line meant-
“You think that we overwhelmed Francesca,” said Magdala.
“Is that why it exploded?” asked Francesca.
“No,” Magdala swallowed, “that was because of me. As usual.”
Colin winced. “Not just you. We both let our natural magical tendencies get in the way. That azade was doomed to explode or disintegrate into dust.” He caught the quizzical look on Magdala’s face and shrugged. “That’s my talent. Making dust.”
That explained why he’d been put on that boring project. Magdala turned to her roommate. “You’re a really strong Wind Qe.”
“Aw,” Francesca put a hand to her heart, “good of you to say so.”
“Then how were we able to overwhelm you?”
“Oh, because it’s bad practice to put any effort into Qe itself.” Francesca rubbed her left hand. “Mother spent weeks conditioning me out of that habit.”
“Oh, right.” Magdala winced. “Mine too.”
“What did they do?” asked Colin.
“Slap our hands every time we put too much into Qe,” said Francesca.
“We used to run into the forest and practice in secret to avoid the pain,” remembered Magdala. “It’s practically why we’re friends.”
“That’s barbaric,” said Colin. “My aunt would never have done that.”
Magdala blinked. “She wouldn’t?”
“No. She just planted me in front of a barrel of luceberries in water and told me that she wouldn’t teach me any more spells until I turned the whole barrel into cordial.” He frowned at the expressions on their faces. “What?”
“I recommend never sharing that story with anyone else in your class,” said Francesca. “It will not engender good feelings.” She inspected the diagram. “At any rate, it sounds like once we’ve addressed this imbalance, we can… Oh!” Her eyes flicked to Magdala. “Do you remember that Lees College girl I dated?”
Magdala sorted through what she could remember of her roommate’s lovers. “Was she the one who bored you with small press fictions?”
“The very one.”
“You still kicked me out of the room at the end of the night.”
“What can I say?” Francesca’s eyes twinkled. “She made up for it later.”
Colin’s face was bright pink. “What’s your point?”
“Afterwards,” said Francesca, “she subjected me to her thesis on how Xa mages are made.”
Magdala frowned. “Aren’t they born, like us?”
“Oh?” Francesca’s expression was of pure glee. “I know something about magic you don’t? Xa mages aren’t born. They created in a ritual.”
“Impossible,” said Colin.
“The idea isn’t in conflict with Resonance Theory.” Magdala leaned forward. “Did she tell you how it works?”
“Probably, but I found a reason to interrupt so all I remember is that the ritual involves leaving young children in an ambersoul grove. When they come out, they’re Xa mages.”
“That sounds absurd,” said Colin. “And barbaric.”
Francesca shook her head. “Lee College grads are not known for making things up. Their tongues have other uses.”
Colin’s face was now bright red. “Are you suggesting we find an ambersoul grove and leave the azade there until it miraculously absorbs Qe?”
“I think that if that worked, they’d be creating Qe mages, not Xa ones.” Magdala stared at the diagram. Why did the ritual work? What was in those groves? “When Dwayne and I make spell vials, we take parts from animals with latent magical ability and soak them in an ambersoul or azade solution.”
“Hence your hunting of dragons,” said Colin.
“In this case, maybe the solution is like the Tuquese children who don’t have a thaumaturgical resonance with Xa but do have the potential for one. What if there’s something in the grove converts that potential?” Magdala turned to Francesca. “Do you know how long the ritual is?”
Her roommate shook her head. “Again, I wasn’t listening, but it didn’t sound like it was a quick process.”
“Unfortunately, we don’t have time to just wait.” Magdala chuckled. “Imagine asking Her Majesty to just sit there in the middle of the Harvest Ball while-”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m just saying we need a quick process because Her Majesty won’t wait…” Magdala’s cheeks burned. Oh, no. “I didn’t tell you? We’re to Offer this to Her Majesty at the Harvest Ball.”
As Colin went deathly pale, Francesca’s voice turned deadly sweet. “Mag, dear, when did you agree to this?”
“I didn’t! The dean said-”
“The dean said!” Colin’s head hit the table. “So we’re ordered to.”
“The Ball is in two days,” pointed out Francesca. “We haven’t even agreed on a methodology.”
“We can try to substitute time for power,” said Magdala. “While Colin and I cast our spells as lightly as possible, you cast Qe as hard as you can.”
“We have no idea if that will work,” said Colin.
“Which means that I’ll have to hold Qe until it settles in the azade,” said Francesca. “I’ve never done that before.”
“No one has,” said Colin.
He looked like he was about to faint, and Magdala couldn’t blame him. While her status as a noble and as Gallus’s heir was secure, Colin was a lay-born mage. Screwing up an Offering at the Harvest Ball might end his career. As for Francesca, she didn’t even need to be here, didn’t even want a career as a working mage. They didn’t need to take this risk.
“I could go to the dean.” Magdala would have to tell Dwayne that she couldn’t do it. He’d be disappointed, but they would find another way. “I could ask her to cancel the Offering.”
“You will do no such thing,” said Francesca.
Magdala stared at her roommate. “Why not?”
“This is the exact kind of thing that will convince Mother to leave me alone so I can focus on my internship at the Exchequer’s Office.”
“But this is a massive risk. If we fail, Colin will-”
“I appreciate the thought,” said Colin, raising his head, “But I have to do this.”
“Why?” asked Magdala.
“Because I’m the son of farmers, and farmers’ sons don’t get a professor’s position at the Magisterium unless they’ve done something truly amazing, and pulling this off, making history, counts.”
“Besides,” Francesca lowered her voice, “I will not deny you the chance to see the look on his face when you pull this off. He might even give you a reward.”
She didn’t mean Colin. Magdala’s face went hot. “Dwayne won’t… He’ll only…” She cleared her throat. “Then we’re doing this.”
“Yes, we are.” Francesca turned to Colin. “Was there anything else?”
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
“I had more thoughts on the methodology.” Colin glanced at Magdala. “Unless you want to do complete it yourself?”
She did, but she’d promised she’d be better. Magdala forced a smile. “You can do it.”
“Good.” Francesca clapped her hands. “While you do that, I’ll go around to our professors and ask them to let us out of class for the next two days.”
“You can do that?” asked Colin.
Francesca turned to Magdala. “None of us have done an Offering before. What should we expect?”
“I don’t know,” replied Magdala.
“Who can we ask?”
Magdala knew someone who had done dozens of Offerings, had done them so well that she now held a Royal appointed position at the Magisterium.
“We could ask the dean,” answered Colin.
“Isn’t she extremely busy?” asked Francesca.
“It wouldn’t take long to ask about the Offering. And the College’s reputation is at stake too.”
Asking that someone would hurt Magdala’s pride, but not asking her risked the hopes, dreams, and reputations of three people. She had to do it.
“I’ll handle that part.” Magdala smiled as if her insides weren’t quivering. “I’ll just ask my mother.”
***
“Step, one, two. Step, one, two.”
As Ziegler barked in time with the pluckings of the seven-stringed kithar, Dwayne sat, watched, and tried not to yawn at the three-step, four-corner dance that Horn was stumbling through with one of the Rosa twins. Instead his mind drifted to two messages he’d received that morning: Magdala’s progress report and the Queen’s response to his report. He tried not to be worried about either even though Magdala’s team had made no progress and the Queen sounded unconcerned about the possibility of an ancient weapon getting revived. It would be easier if this class were actually interesting.
“Did you really kill twenty robbers?” whispered Torben.
Dwayne stifled another yawn. “No, there were only two.” His brain caught up to what had just happened. One of his classmates had talked to him. “We, ah, just drove them off.”
“Wow.”
Chloe Gordon leaned over. “Is it true you cast Ri magic?”
Dwayne’s heartbeat raced. “W-where did you hear that?”
“Haven’t you been handing out those flame charm bottles?”
Oh, she meant the new spell vial. “Yes, I have been, and yes, I can. You can too.”
Torben raised an eyebrow. “I thought Qe mages couldn’t cast Ri spells.”
Gordon’s eyes lit up. “Young Kalan has found a way. You see he…”
As Gordon embarked on an explanation of his work, Dwayne found himself feeling disjointed. Ziegler still ignored or put him down every chance he got, but apparently that attitude didn’t extend to all of the students.
“Young Kalan, is it true that you’ve hunted dragons?”
Gordon’s question snapped Dwayne back to reality. “Yes. Just one.”
“Wow,” Torben’s eyes surely could not get any wider. “I’ve never heard of a mage who-”
“Young Kalan.” Ziegler’s voice lashed out. “Stop distracting young Gordon and Mr. Andresen.”
“Mr. Ziegler,” Gordon raised her hand, “we’re distracting him, not the other way around.”
Dwayne’s eyes widened. This was a novel experience.
“I see.” Ziegler killed the music with a snap of his fingers. “Miss Rosa, Miss Horn, thank you, you may sit down.” He exchanged a significant look with Miss Rosa and then said, “Mr. Andresen, young Gordon, your turn.”
Torben stood up. “Mr. Ziegler, m-may I partner with Dwayne?”
“No, you may not!” With a cough, Ziegler smoothed the front of his suit. “I mean, it’s not appropriate for a noble like young Kalan to dance with one of his own gender. You will practice with young Gordon.”
Torben wilted, but Gordon patted him on the shoulder and whispered something to him before they moved to the center of the room. Soon, they were stepping awkwardly in time with the music and Ziegler’s shouted instructions.
Taking the seat next to Dwayne, Miss Rosa let out a huge yawn, then said, “Gia’s lucky she’s got a cold.”
So this was Pia.
“I hope she gets better soon,” said Dwayne.
Rosa glared at him. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t.” Dwayne kept his eyes on Torben and Gordon. “I’m being polite.”
When Horn snorted, Rosa’s glare intensified. “Would you have danced with Andresen?”
“Yes.”
“Even though it’s not appropriate?”
“It’s just a dance.” It wasn’t like he was going to kiss the boy if that was a thing that happened on the dance floor.
“What about at the ball?”
Dwayne hid a wince. “No, not at the ball.” He didn’t know many who could afford the hit to their reputation. “I’ll be going alone.”
“Going alone?” Rosa scoffed. “Going alone tells everyone that you are a,” she lowered her voice, “committed bachelor. Not even you would make that kind of mistake unless,” he could hear the predatory grin form on her face, “you’re saying that no one will go with you?”
“Oh, I bet that’s it,” said Horn.
Dwayne kept his eyes on the dancing as his hands curled into fists. “Think what you want.”
“Horn, do you know what I heard?” asked Rosa.
“What?”
“I heard that young Kalan can’t even afford proper guards at his estate. He had to fend off robbers all by himself, like a common guard.”
“What really?” asked Horn.
Dwayne blinked as Horn’s tone. “Really.”
“And it worked?”
“Sort of.” Dwayne considered Horn, who was probably the poorest of Ziegler’s students. “They got away.”
“But you used magic?”
“Young Kalan,” Ziegler’s voice lashed out again, “you’ve been warned.” He snapped his fingers. Once again, the dreary music stopped. “Since you can’t stay quiet, you’ll have to sit out the rest of the lesson. Know that I’ll inform Baron Thadden of your disruptive behavior.”
Dwayne’s anger flared, and it was only his awareness of how fast word of his actions would spread all over the city that strangled the snarl threatening to tumble out of his throat. Dousing his anger, he stood up and bowed. “I apologize. I’ll leave at once.”
“That’s too bad.” A tall hazel-skinned woman in a white and gold dress that just brushed her ankles swept into the room ahead of Ziegler’s butler. “I wanted to see how well you could dance.”
“Master, she-”
“Miss.” Ziegler’s upraised hand stopped his butler’s protests. “Who are you?”
Dwayne knew. “Miss Montes, what are you doing here?”
“Correction, Doña Montes.” Odette sketched a grand curtsy. “Doña Odette Montes if you please.”
Ziegler managed a stiff smile. “Dona Montes-”
“Doña, Mister Ziegler. I know that one such as you places great stock in what comes to one by accident, instead of what comes to one by their actions. As such, I must insist that you get my title right. More importantly,” Odette was suddenly in front of Dwayne, her eyes searching his face. “No major injuries, no new scars, and a shiny new reputation as a scrappy spell fighter. That alone would be enough to make you the talk of the town,” she winked, “if you weren’t already.”
“Dona,” Ziegler stamped his foot. “I am attempting to conduct a lesson!”
Dwayne kept his voice low. “Doña Montes-”
“You can call me Odette.” The former inspector’s voice was low. “The Doña is for those who don’t hear the clinks.”
“Dona,” Ziegler inserted himself between them, “I must insist that you conclude whatever business you have with young Kalan-”
“What a terrific idea! I am making an assessment of his ability to conduct himself during the Harvest Ball. For that, we’ll need something good to dance to.” She darted to the stunned kithar player. “I see you have some nice calluses. You must know something fun and popular.”
Ziegler blubbered. “You will not- He is here to play the opening piece for the Harvest Ball!”
Odette gave him a mournful look. “Is that what I heard a moment ago? Truly dreadful. Well, it’s good Her Highness is getting it out of the way early.” She dropped a coin into the kithar player’s hands. “Now, something fun.”
With a shrug, the kithar player’s fingers danced and a fast paced song with a skipping melody filled the room.
“Very good.” Odette took Dwayne’s hands and arranged them in the proper position: right hand on hip, left held up high. “Now, follow me.”
She leaned back, he stepped forward, and then they were spinning around the room, past a smiling Torben, a stone-faced Chloe, a wide-eyed Horn, a frowning Rosa, and an absolutely livid Ziegler before they, and the room, became a blur.
“I am surprised that you’re here.”
Odette’s comment nearly made Dwayne trip. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that this snake’s nest is more dangerous for you than a Vengehna.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. Let’s do a flourish.” Odette spun away, forcing Dwayne to orbit around her to get back to the standard position.
When they resumed, Odette laughed. “Oh, you are so easy to dance with. You should have come to Luisa. She needs a partner able to accommodate her particular weaknesses.”
Dwayne couldn’t help but chuckle. “Like her lack of tact?”
Odette laughed. “Yes! I love her with all my heart, but my dear Luisa pilots the persona of Lady Pol through the shoals of society with the skill of a drunk baboon. Speaking of failing at nobility, why haven’t you declared you’re taking young Lady Gallus to the Ball?”
Dwayne actually tripped. “What?”
“Oh,” Odette hauled him back into step, “because you hadn’t thought of it yet. Interesting. One final flourish to finish.” She spun away and dropped into a curtsy that Dwayne just barely managed to match with a bow. “Thank you for the dance, young Kalan.”
“No, thank you,” replied Dwayne as that was the only polite response available to him.
“You!” Ziegler marched on the zithar player. “You will stick to the songs I paid for or you’re fired.” He whirled on Odette. “And you, Dona-”
“Doña, Mister Ziegler, but I’m afraid I haven’t any time to chat. I have an appointment.” Odette was already at the door. “It was nice to see your lovely students though. Chau!”
Then she was gone.
“Well,” Ziegler straightened his suit, “now that that’s over, we’ll have to start from the top. Young Kalan, you will take up positions with Miss Horn.”
Dwayne raised an eyebrow. “I thought I was dismissed.”
Ziegler glared at him. “If I were to let you perform that, that, farce at the Harvest Ball, I will never hear the end of it.”
“I see.” Dwayne could leave, but if he didn’t, he would get to enjoy this bit of schadenfreude. “If you insist.”
When he and Miss Horn took up position in the center of the room, Ziegler called out “Step, one, two. Step, one, two,” to the beat of the dreary music.
“So,” Miss Horn kept her voice low, “what spells did you use on the robbers?”
***
Only three students currently attending the Academy had ever walked past the Commissary, through the granite reception hall, and up the pristine white marble steps to the Chambers of the Sages, and Magdala wished she wasn’t one of them, wished that she’d had to ask a professor to pass a request to a dean to arrange an appointment with the Water Sage’s secretary to set up a meeting in a month’s time.
However, she was the Water Sage’s daughter, and so when she approached her mother’s office, the two white-hooded Sen Jerome cenobites not only did not stop her, they greeted her.
“Young Gallus.” The older of the two guards bowed. “It’s been a long time.”
“Sister Sutherland.” Magdala didn’t bow back. The cenobite would have been insulted. “I’ve been on suspension.”
“Yes, I heard.” Sutherland raised an eyebrow. “I’ve also heard that you’ve been back for some weeks now.”
“Well, I’ve been busy. Catching up on what I missed.” Magdala stopped one step short of the door. “I’m here now.”
“You are.” Sutherland rapped the door with her knuckles. “Young Lady Gallus is here.”
“Young Lady Gallus?” The door opened just wide enough to reveal the sun-touched face of Klaudia Drechsler, aide to the Water Sage. “You’re back from suspension?”
“See,” Magdala gave Sutherland a look, “Drechsler didn’t know I was back.”
Sutherland snorted. “Drechsler has been busy.”
Which implied that Magdala had not been.
“Now is not the best time, milady,” said Drechsler. “The Water Sage is in a meeting.”
“The Water Sage was in meeting.” The door to the office swung wide open and allowed Wind Sage Lucchesi to exit the office. “Drechsler, make a note that I tried to warn her.” She spotted Magdala. “Young Lady Gallus! I heard that you got into college.”
“Yes, Sage.” Magdala bowed. “The College of Martial Magic.”
“Ah, Dean Bruce’s little project.” The Wind Sage glanced over her shoulder. “Well, that explains some things. Good luck.”
Before Magdala could ask what for, Drechsler ushered her into the office, and Sutherland closed the door behind them. Then the aide led her up to a curtain of flowing water, parted it with a whispered spell, and stepped aside to let Magdala through.
“Will you be needing refreshments, milady?” she asked.
“No,” Magdala passed under the parted water, “I won’t be staying long.”
“Understood.” Drechsler bowed. “I’ll be just outside if you need me.” Then she let the water curtain close.
The Office of the Water Sage hadn’t changed since Magdala had been here last. Behind her arced the three wir tall, twenty wir long water curtain. In front of her stood an arc of tall blue marble pillars that held up massive glass windows that, on a rare sunny day, would show Palace Hill. In the sparsely decorated middle of the office was a small bank of bookshelves on the left, a collection of trophy pedestals on the right, a pair of couches between those, and beyond all of that, a granite and marble altar of a desk and a massive upholstered chair. To delay the inevitable just a moment longer, Magdala let her eyes drift to the closest trophy, a sheathed duelist’s rapier, which she’d used to assume had been her father’s, but the blade was too short and its guard was too elaborate for him.
“Every time you come here, you look at it.”
Magdala blushed and faced the desk. “Mother.”
The Water Sage put down her pen and looked up from her paperwork. “Daughter.”
They hadn’t spoken since the Autumn Session, not since the Water Sage had said, “I can’t keep fighting you.”
“Unless you’re here to study in my office like you used to,” said the Water Sage, “I don’t have time to sit here and exchange glares with you.”
“I…” Magdala clasped her hands. “I came to ask you for advice.”
The Water Sage sat back in her chair. “This isn’t about switching colleges, is it?”
“No!” Magdala sucked in a breath. The Water Sage was too busy to get into that argument again. “I’m leading a project, which we are scheduled to Offer at the Harvest Ball.”
The Water Sage’s gaze sharpened. “What’s the project?”
“Creating a general purpose Qe resonator.”
The Water Sage leaned forward. “Was this your idea or Dwayne’s?”
Why did that matter? “Dwayne was working on it, but I took it over to give him time to focus on his other work.”
The Water Sage steepled her fingers. “Why?”
“Why?” Magdala put her hands on her hips. “Because Resonance Theory is right and we can prove it.”
“Oh, that’s all?” The Sage’s hands didn’t move. “You’re doing all this to prove a theory?”
What answer was she looking for? Magdala gestured to the Water Sage’s bookshelves. “I would think that a suitable enough reason.”
“If I understand Resonance Theory correctly, we already have Qe magical resonators,” the Sage placed a hand on her chest, “right here.”
That was a very good point. Why should Qe mages to care about a Qe resonator?
The Water Sage sighed. “I see that you hadn’t considered that. Was the Offering your idea?”
Magdala shook her head. “It was the dean’s.”
“Of course it was.” The Sage raised an eyebrow. “Is this all for Dwayne?”
Magdala stared. “What?”
“Are you trying to create a means for your cousin,” the Sage emphasized those two words, “to overcome his particular thaumaturgical difficulties? That is the most obvious use for a general purpose Qe resonator.”
“No. I mean, yes, it would help him. However…” An idea wormed into the back of Magdala’s mind, but there was something in the Water Sage’s tone that worried her to much to let her consider it. “However, this isn’t just for him. Once we’ve made it, we can find other uses.”
“I’m sure you can. This does explain why he’s had time to distribute those fire spells of his.” The Water Sage sat back in her seat. “And so you’re here to ask for advice about the Offering.”
Finally, back to the point. “Yes, I am.”
“I advise you to pull out.”
“What?”
“Magdala,” the Water Sage stood up, “this is too risky.”
“My lab partners and I are very aware of-”
“Not only do you not know if it can be done, you have no idea of its value if you succeed.” The Sage began to pace behind her desk. “You haven’t even asked yourself why Dean Bruce used her influence to get you on the list at all, let alone as First Offering. Offering at the Harvest Ball at all is a privilege given to very few people, one that a new dean of a new college shouldn’t have been able to secure.” She stopped pacing and faced Magdala. “Does she know that it’s Dwayne’s research?”
Magdala crossed her arms. “Why does that matter? It’s my team, my research.”
“Does she know?”
“Yes, she knows.”
“And can’t you see that she’s after something?”
Magdala’s face flushed. “All I can see is that you don’t want to help.”
After those words finished echoing, her mother the Water Sage said, “You still don’t-”
“What?” Magdala flung her hands up. “I still don’t what?”
“Nothing.” Her mother sucked in a breath. “Nothing. Your father and I will protect you and-”
“No,” Magdala advanced, “you’re going to complete that sentence.” She slammed her hands onto her mother’s desk. “I still don’t what?”
Her mother sighed. “You still don’t take consequences into consideration.”
“What? Yes, I do.” Magdala gestured to the room. “If we don’t do this, then we’re stuck with Emittance Theory and Souran magic never reaches its true potential.”
Her mother shook her head. “You’re thinking grandiose when you should be thinking personal. If you fail, who gains? If you succeed, who loses? And what does success cost you or those around you? When you don’t ask questions like that, you end up setting off a sleep bomb in the middle of a classroom.”
“If we fail, one of my teammates will be kicked out of Bruce College, the other will be forced to acquiesce to her mother’s wishes, and my cousin will have to do this all alone.” Magdala drew herself up. “I’ll be a laughingstock again. But we’re going to take that risk. You’re right. I don’t know why Dean Bruce is pushing this so hard, but does it matter? This is the right course of action and it has to be done.”
For a long moment, mother and daughter stared at each other. Then her mother said, “Good, that’s a start.”
Magdala blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“Ignoring what Dean Bruce wants is still short-sighted, but what you’ll learn from this, failure or no, will be worth it.”
Magdala staggered back from her mother’s desk. “You’ll help me?”
“I am helping you.” Her mother tapped her desk. “The key to any good Offering is making it clear why Her Majesty and her subjects, both lay and mage, should care. No one cares about theory; they care about how they can use theory to get what they want.”
Magdala stared. “Were you testing me?”
“No, I wasn’t.” Her mother turned away from her. “I still don’t want you to do this. I still think you should change colleges, but,” her expression softened, “I don’t want you to fail.” She sniffed. “Here’s my last bit of help: who wrote the Resonance Theory papers and what would he not have considered as he wrote them?”
The answers were “Dwayne” and “nothing”, but one didn’t become the Water Sage without the ability to ask truly difficult questions. Dwayne was Ri and had a vested interest in a general purpose Qe resonator’s ability, as her mother had put it, “to overcome his particular thaumaturgical difficulties.” Her earlier idea finally inched its way to the front of her mind where it met with her realization that Dwayne, who wasn’t a Qe mage, had never set out to answer what Qe mages could do with a general purpose Qe resonator.
“I think I know what you mean. What if-”
“I don’t need the particulars.” Her mother sat back down at the Water Sage’s desk. “Have you talked to Dean Laurence?”
“No.” Magdala frowned. “Why?”
“If you wanted to speak to someone who’s brilliant at Offerings, you should have gone to her.”
“Oh, uh, thanks.” Magdala bowed. “Was there anything else, Mother?”
“No.”
“Okay.” Magdala turned around, walked past the couches and the trophies and the bookshelves, reached the water curtain before she stopped. Her mother had asked what Magdala’s failures had cost her. What had they cost her mother?
She turned around. “Mother?”
The Water Sage didn’t look up. “Yes?”
“I don’t quite understand what you mean about consequences, but part of it has to mean that it cost you something to send me off to my lord uncle instead of having me stay here during my suspension. For that, for what you paid, thank you.” That felt so good to say that the next words slipped out involuntarily. “I love you.”
The Water Sage didn’t respond.
“Well, good-bye.” Magdala turned around.
“Whoever you take to the Ball,” called out her mother, “be mindful of what it tells the rest of society.”
That was cryptic. “Okay, I will.”
Magdala left.