As Bradford’s afternoon rain tried to wash away the day, Dwayne returned to Sanford with the finally completed Huo-Niao spell vial. When the door opened to let him in, he asked. “Is she here yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“Good, I still need to…” Dwayne turned to stare at the person who’d opened the door for him. “Huan?”

Mei’s brother grinned. “Hello.”

“You’re on duty.”

“I am. It’s what you pay me for, milord.”

“But you never come back from lunch!”

“Ah.” Huan gave a shrug. “That steward of yours made it clear that if you met with this Fletcher person and got murdered, I’d be lying in the pool of my own blood by the end of the week.”

“I also threatened to dock his pay.” Rodion appeared and took Dwayne’s cloak. “I’m sure that wasn’t a deciding factor. I’ve prepared the sitting room for our guest.”

Huan looked miffed, but Dwayne didn’t have time to figure out why Sanford’s house guard and its steward were at each other’s throats. “Thank you, Huan. Rodion, can you get a stand for this?” He held up the spell vial.

Having the Resonance Theory project off his hands was already yielding results. He’d have to thank Magdala.

“Right away, my lord.”

As Rodion went to fulfill the request, Dwayne made his way to the sitting room, which got a substantial amount of light, unlike Ziegler’s “Sun Room.” It was too bad that said light was Bradford gray and was slurped up by Sanford’s black and blue curtains and rugs.

When Rodion brought him a small wooden stand, Dwayne thanked him, placed it onto the black marble table and placed the new spell vial into it. His stomach growled. He’d skipped lunch to rummage around the Tower’s archives for any details on the Huo-Niao bird that would hint at the spell it was using. In the office on the third floor, he finally found a set of old notes that detailed the calls and grunts of various magical animals, including the Huo-Niao bird. It had been signed “C. Rionnutte.” If things went well today, Dwayne wouldn’t have to break his oath to test the spell.

“Welcome to Sanford, Miss Fletcher,” said Rodion from the foyer. “Please allow me to take your coat.”

“Thank you.” Miss Fletcher’s alto accent was filled with a north-west Souran’s soft vowels and hard consonants. “This is a mi- very nice place, you’ve got.”

When she and Rodion entered the sitting room, Dwayne stepped forward and bowed. “Miss Fletcher, thank you for coming on such short notice. I know you only have an hour off work.”

“Oh, uh.” The burly young woman in the heavy overalls and an orange scarf dipped into an awkward curtsy. “You’re welcome, milord.”

Resigning himself to the title, Dwayne gestured to a sofa. “Please, sit. Is there anything you’d like to drink?”

“What like beer?” Miss Fletcher’s face flushed. “No, you’ll have something fancy like tea. I can drink tea.”

“We have beer.” Dwayne turned to Rodion. “We have a few kinds in the cellar, right?”

“I shall bring up a selection.” Rodion bowed out of the room.

“Uh, tea would have been fine.” Miss Fletcher suddenly dropped onto the sofa.

“To be honest, I rarely drink anything other than water if I can help it.” Dwayne took the seat next to the fireplace. “But beer is more relaxing, I think.”

“It sure is.” Miss Fletcher eyes dropped to her lap, where her hands were doing their best to fold the air. “If I may be so bold, milord, how did you hear about my place being robbed? I told the scrytives a few days ago and they never got back to me.”

That wasn’t surprising. Everything about her, from her accent to her orange scarf, screamed commoner, and what was stolen from commoners stayed stolen. “My… friend young Gallus mentioned it. She’s in the same class as Colin?” That orange scarf. “Were you were at the Gallus dinner?”

“Yes, I was, milord.” Miss Fletcher’s demeanor darkened. “That was the night I was robbed.”

“Are you usually home that time of night?”

“Yeah, I, I mean, yes, I am. I have the morning and afternoon shifts and usually I’m home asleep right after dark. Lady Gallus’s dinner took practically all my strength to attend.” She wilted. “I did enjoy it though, up until the end.”

Dwayne cleared his throat. “Yes, I’m sorry about that. Did anyone else know where you were going to be?”

Miss Fletcher’s chin sank into her collar. “I told everyone. Going to a Sage Dinner is a big deal.”

“Were you invited specifically?”

“My company sent me as a reward for my hard work, milord.”

Pile that on top of Dwayne’s other sins from that night. “Again, I’m really sorry about that.”

“It’s no biggie. Dinners like that are hard for them not born to it.”

Dwayne had hadn’t time to process this show of empathy before Rodion returned with two tankards of beer, one of which he placed one in Miss Fletcher’s hands. “Here you are, miss. I believe you’ll recognize the vintage.”

She sniffed the beer. “Oh, that’s.” She sniffed it again. “That’s Cairnborne Red! Where did you get it?”

“We are mere wirs from the greatest market in Soura.” Rodion handed the second tankard to Dwayne. “It was but the work of a morning.”

That was Impressive. Dwayne had only known Miss Fletcher was arriving today. He sipped his beer and tasted, unsurprisingly, beer. At least, their guest liked it. “Miss Fletcher, do you know what was stolen from your flat?”

Miss Fletcher gulped. “Yes, they took a book on magic, part of me and Colin’s inheritance. Witch-Auntie handed it down it to me before she retired, milord.”

Cups, that title was starting to grate. “What was the title of the book?”

“Milord,” Miss Fletcher’s eyes met Dwayne’s, “that’s not a question you ask a mage about their inheritance.”

Good to know. “To track it down, I need to know the name of the book.”

Miss Fletcher placed her tankard down on the table. “That book is, was, our entire magical inheritance, milord. It was the reason my little brother got into college.”

“I see.”

There wasn’t much else to say. Secrets like Miss Fletcher’s stolen book, like Lady Pol’s wind-based lightning spells, were how mages maintained an edge here in Soura. It was too bad that they got in the way of making actual progress. And yes, the irony was more than palpable.

He caught Miss Fletcher eyeing the Huo-Niao spell vial. He didn’t have to keep that a secret at least. “It’s a new way to cast spells.”

Her expression became blank. “It is?”

“It is.” Dwayne took the spell vial out of the rack and handed it to her. “I made it last night.”

“Okay…” Miss Fletcher examined the feather floating in the vial. “Is it for lay people to cast spells?”

“No.” Dwayne grinned. “It’s for Qe mages to cast Ri magic.”

“Milord,” Miss Fletcher’s eyes had narrowed, “I maybe from the country, but I am not a fool.”

“I know you’re not. That’s why you’re going to cast it. Rodion, close those curtains over there.”

“What?” Miss Fletcher shook. “I can’t cast fire magic.”

“Have you heard of Resonance Theory?” Dwayne closed the curtains behind her.

“It was mentioned at that dinner.”

“You’re about to prove it.”

Rodion closed the last curtains and the sitting room became as dark as night.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Huuu, that’s dark,” said Miss Fletcher.

“Are you okay?” Dwayne sat next to her on the couch. “I can open the curtains again if it’s a problem.”

“I’m not worried about the dark. I just don’t see how I’ll cast fire magic.”

“You can do it.” It was good it was so dark. She couldn’t see how hard Dwayne had to clasp his hands to keep them from trembling. “I’ll talk you through it. Have you acted before?”

Miss Fletcher giggled nervously. “Just in one or two plays, milord. I’m not very good.”

“You’ve got more experience than me. I’m going to help you cast the spell. Ri doesn’t work like Qe magic. It’s based on emotion, not visualization.”

“I haven’t read that anywhere.”

“Well, uh, I’ve had reason to find some texts on the subject.” Better move on quick. “Imagine that it’s evening, and you are standing in the middle of a forest. Autumn is almost over and the nights are starting to fill with winter’s chill. All you have for warmth is a small pile of wood. You tried to light the wood earlier, but it had been raining and the wood is too now damp for your flint to light it. How do you feel?”

“Cold. Hungry. Angry, no, no, frustrated.”

“Hungry?”

“I haven’t eaten all day, not if I’m just lighting this fire now. If I were full, I wouldn’t be cold.”

Good, she was taking this seriously. “Hold on to that, the cold, the hunger, the frustration, and repeat after me.” Dwayne blanked his mind, centered himself in dark, warm sitting room, before saying, “Ri'et'te.”

“Ri'et'te.” A spark of flame scratched the air and lit up Miss Fletcher’s face. “It worked. Ri'et'te!” Another spark lit up her now delighted face. “I cast a Ri spell!”

“Congratulations.” Dwayne lay back on the sofa. “You’re the first Qe mage to cast a Ri spell. Rodion, the curtains please.”

Before the curtains were opened, Miss Fletcher scooted closer to Dwayne. “How does it work? What’s that in the liquid? Am I commanding it to cast for me?”

Dwayne tactfully scooted back from her. “So, you’ve read Hobstock.”

Her eyes widened. “You think he’s wrong.”

“You know he’s wrong.” Dwayne smiled. “If he weren’t, then the spell wouldn’t have worked. Would you like me to send you the relevant papers?”

“Yes, please.” After a moment, Miss Fletcher offered the spell vial back to Dwayne.

He shook his head. “It’s yours.”

Her mouth fell open. “Really? No, really?”

“Yes, really.” Dwayne had only used one feather for that vial and so he could always make more.

Miss Fletcher put the vial in her lap. “What do you want in exchange, milord?”

Dwayne blinked. “Pardon?”

“I have to give you something for this.”

“No, you don’t.”

Miss Fletcher’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, I do. This is a magic trade between two heads of family. Unless this is some sort of proposal-”

“It is definitely not that.”

“Then you will have to ask for something. Otherwise, I’m leaving this here.”

Somehow, the thought of Miss Fletcher just leaving something that she obviously loved was pure anathema to Dwayne. “Then what about the name of the book was stolen?”

Miss Fletcher crossed her arms. “That’s it?”

“And maybe a short paragraph on what it felt like to cast a Ri spell?”

“You know, I’ll come up with something for you, milord.” Miss Fletcher sighed. “Pennoyer’s Index of Alchemical Reactions.”

Dwayne blinked. “That’s not a standard Academy text.”

“The second edition ain’t. Both Witch-Auntie and brother say that it has reactions that aren’t listed in later editions.”

“You haven’t read it?”

“All those diagrams and equations make my head hurt. I’ll stick to lifting rocks. Colin’s basically memorized the thing.”

Obscure spells were more than enough reason to rob mage houses, particularly the ones with few guards. Although if that was a driving reason, then why hadn’t Sanford been robbed?

“If you get a chance, can you ask your brother to send me a list?”

“Of course, milord.”

And that was his limit. “Please call me Dwayne. Call it part of our trade.”

“I won’t, but you can call me Nicole.” She raised the spell vial. “I can’t let you undersell this.”

“But-”

“Tell you what, mi- Dwayne. Anytime you want someone to demonstrate this in public, I’m your gal.”

“Aren’t you busy?”

“That’s my business.”

Dwayne could tell he wasn’t going to win. “Will that make us even?”

“It should.” She stood up. “Now, I’ve got to get to work.”

“I’ve already called a carriage, Miss Fletcher.” Rodion bowed. “It’s waiting for you outside.”

Nicole blanched. “I can’t afford no carriage! Are ya’ll trying to endebt me to you?”

Dwayne shook his head. “It’s just a courtesy, Miss- Nicole.”

“Among nobility, it is rude to have the guests pay for their carriage,” stated Rodion.

This lie was enough to mollify Nicole. “Well, all right then. I’ll still have to figure out something for those papers you’re sending me though.”

“Wait, you don’t have to-”

But she was gone.

“Cups,” said Dwayne.

“Indeed, my lord.”

***

“And you didn’t ask Dwayne do this because?”

Magdala winced. Why couldn’t Francesca just ignore the holes in her story? “He’s too busy.” And too Ri.

“Right.” Francesca adjusted her grip on her pack. “That’s why you didn’t ask.”

“Mei corroborates this. She said he had a meeting today, didn’t she?”

“Mmhm. What about Colin? Does he know you’re bringing me in?”

“I didn’t have time to tell him.” Magdala shouldered the College doors open. “You only just agreed this morning. Besides, I’m project leader, and it’s my job to make sure we have enough re- people.”

“I see.” Francesca followed Magdala in. “Well, so long as it’s clear that I’m only helping out until I hear back from the Exchequer’s Office...” She stopped and stared at the array of experiments in progress. “Whoa, you were not exaggerating.”

Magdala grinned. “No hyperbole here. Come on. Our table is in the back.”

They made their way to the work table, where Colin was waiting for them. “You’re late.” He frowned at Francesca. “Who’s this?”

“Francesca Lucchesi.” Magdala’s roommate dropped her pack on the table. “Colin Fletcher, right? It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“You’re,” Colin’s wide eyes turned to Magdala, “you’re friends with a Lucchesi?”

“Ever since we were very, very small.” Francesca settled onto a stool. “As for you, I’ve heard you’re quite the sensation.”

Colin’s face flushed. “No, I… Well… It’s just ‘cause I’m a boy.”

“And you’re the first in your class to get into college. My mother says never miss a chance to talk yourself up. So,” Francesca leaned against the table, “Any thoughts on today’s methodology, Mr. Fletcher?”

Magdala frowned. “Why are you asking him?”

Her roommate fluttered her eyelashes. “Because I want to know to know if he knows.”

Colin forced a laugh. “I don’t know. She hasn’t told me about any methodology.”

“She hasn’t, has she?”

Magdala cleared her throat. “I’m going to do so now. The goal of this experiment is to attempt to anchor the Qe root in azade. In order to achieve that, we’ll have to do three things simultaneously: cast Qe, liquefy a quantity of azade, but force it to keep its shape.”

Colin crossed his arms. “You really think that will work?”

“Would I bring in Francesca if I didn’t?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, I…” The glint in Francesca’s eye made Magdala change tack. “Wouldn’t. This will be a modification of a process that Sorcerer Nithercott used to force a spell into solid azade. She abandoned it because it not only worked exactly once after disintegrating the azade.”

“I’ve never heard of a process like that,” said Colin. “Where did you find it?”

“Dwayne found it in the Terminal Tome.”

Colin sniffed. “And you’re sure he described the process correctly?”

Magdala narrowed her eyes. “I’m sure.”

“I’m only asking because my sister Nicky made me read all the current theories on how Qe magic makes, and what you describe runs counter to every single one of them.”

Heat rose in Magdala’s chest. “That’s because those theories are wrong.”

“And even if this process works, why do you think your modifications would raise the durability and efficacy of the result?”

“Because I just know, okay?”

Francesca clapped once. “Enough of that. We’re here to see if this will work, not argue. As for whether or not we’ll have enough azade,” she emptied her pack on the table, “do you think these will be enough?”

Colin stared at the ten five-doun azade spheres that had rolled out onto the table. “How?”

Francesca frowned. “You did hear my introduction, right?”

“Yeah, but-”

“Let’s get this over with.” Magdala ignored the warning glare from Francesca and shoved an azade sphere into Colin’s hands. “This is how we’ll proceed. Colin will make the azade hold its shape, Francesca will cast Qe at it, and I’ll liquefy it.”

Colin’s jaw dropped. “You expect us to do a three person joint casting? With no practice?”

“Yes. We’ve done it before.”

“We did a two person casting before, and it only barely worked.”

Now was not the time to get into another argument. “You have the methodology. Let’s get started. Ready, Francesca?”

Her roommate sighed and aimed one palm at the azade in Colin’s hands. “Ready.”

Magdala gave Colin a look. “Ready, Mr. Fletcher?”

He rolled his eyes. “Ready.”

“Okay. On the count of three. One, two, three! nQerikwem!”

“nQeanum!”

“Qe-”

Magdala’s magic reached deep into the azade started to break the bonds holding it solid, but as that happened, Colin’s magic surged in from the outside and reforged those same bonds. Grunting, Magdala poured more effort into her casting and forced out Colin’s casting right as Francesca’s hit. With an unpleasant throb, the azade twisted in an all too familiar way.

“Oh no,” said Magdala.

“-micie!” As her spell blasted the azade sphere out of Colin’s hands and up into the air, Francesca grabbed Magdala and pulled her to the floor. “Colin, get down!”

The nQe mage joined Magdala and Francesca under the table just as the azade burst and rained glittering blue dust down on them. As Magdala watched her failure settled everywhere, on the tables, on the experiments, on the other researchers, she knew that Dean Bruce was going to cancel the project, kick her out of college, and make her slink back to her mother and beg to be allowed to join Lees. This was her punishment for thinking that she was made for anything but destruction.

Resigned to her doom, Magdala climbed out from under the table and braced herself.

The other researchers cheered.

Magdala stared. “What’s happening?”

“Spectacular failures get a big cheer.” Colin picked himself up and dusted himself off. “It’s College tradition. More importantly, what happened?”

All around them, the other researchers were already getting back to work, some after blowing blue dust of their work.

“Magdala?”

Beyond the glass wall, Dean Bruce kept reading her scroll. Had she even noticed?

“Mag?”

Was Magdala really not going to be punished for this?

“Magdala Gallus.” Francesca made Magdala face her. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m fine.” Magdala brushed dust off her clothes. “Someone pushed in too deep.”

Colin snorted. “You pushed out too far. Were you trying to liquefy the whole thing?”

Magdala glared at him. “I told you to hold the shape, not keep it solid.”

“Hardly specific.”

“Yes, it was!”

“Mag,” Francesca put a hand on Magdala’s shoulder, “I don’t think that you thought it through.”

Magdala’s glare turned icy as it veered onto her roommate. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“It’s not about sides; it’s about what you actually said.”

“What I said was to hold the shape.” Magdala shook her head. “If that’s not clear enough for you, then maybe you’re both too stupid to understand what I meant.”

Francesca said nothing for a long moment. “Right. I’m leaving.”

Ice slid down Magdala’s back. “Wait, Francesca.” She grabbed her roommate’s arm. “Wait.”

“No, I can’t. Not now.” Francesca twisted free and walked away.

“Well, this has been a waste of time.” Colin started to pack his things. “I knew it wouldn’t work.”

Magdala glared at him. “Where are you going?”

“My sister happens to need me so I’m going to do that.” He paused in his packing. “Unless you think we can do this without Miss Lucchesi?”

Magdala said nothing, which was answer enough.

“I didn’t think so.”

As Magdala watched him leave, a horrifying question merged from the pit of her stomach. Had she really just insulted her oldest and best friend? Why had she done that? How could she fix it?

What would she write in her progress report to the dean?