As the unseen sun was beginning to lighten the clouds, Magdala regretted her bravado as she trudged up Bradsbridge. Early waking Mei had decided to come, but Francesca had taken one look at the dark sky and then burrowed deeper into her blankets.

Pulling her cloak tight around herself, Magdala asked Mei, “Any tips for talking to the club?”

“Free food.”

“Hah. Next time.”

They reached the middle of the bridge, where no fewer than forty people, Dwayne’s club had grown so much in just one week, were waiting around in hat, thick coats, and long cloaks. Among them were Torben Andresen and Chloe Gordon, both of whom Magdala had met at the Harvest Ball and were now currently standing beside a burly young woman in a long wool sweater.

Gordon intercepted Magdala and Mei. “Why are we here?”

“To see the opportunity here.” Magdala’s gesture took in the whole of Bradsbridge. “This is where we’ll show off the Qe core. Which of you is Miss Nicole Fletcher?”

When the burly woman slowly raised her hand, Magdala had to hide her surprise with a cough. Aside from her brown hair, Nicole Fletcher barely resembled her scrawny younger brother. “This was your idea. Who do you want to be the audience?”

Miss Fletcher looked down and muttered something.

“What was that?”

“Everyone,” said Miss Fletcher.

Andresen stepped between them. “Can’t we have it indoors?”

“No,” answered Magdala.

“Does Dwayne think this is a good idea?” asked Gordon.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

She was on a first name basis with him? Magdala raised her chin. “Yes, he does. That’s why we’re meeting here.”

Gordon scowled. “Then why isn’t he here?”

Why was she so hostile? Did she think Magdala was trying to take over? “Because he’s working on getting the hands we’ll need to set it up. Miss Fletcher,” Magdala recalled what Francesca had said to her, that she should put credit where credit is due, “how do you think this should go?”

Miss Fletcher’s face went pale. “I-I don’t know.”

“Y-” Magdala clamped down on her frustration and forced a soft tone into her next words. “What do you hope will happen?”

“Maybe…” Miss Fletcher’s eyes flicked between Magdala and Gordon, “we can show what we’ll do for people with it?”

“Beyond enabling nQe mages to do Qe mage and vice versa?”

“That’s too abstract,” said Miss Fletcher, confidence entering her voice. “The people have to know what that means. For example, with more Qe mages doing nQe magic, we have more people could can transform the colors in people’s clothes, which is much cheaper than buying new clothes every season.”

Magdala rubbed her chin. “Wouldn’t that concern Dyer’s College?”

Miss Fletcher wilted. “Would it?”

“Yes, but,” Magdala grinned, “who cares. Let’s show them. Any other ideas?”

“Exotic spices?”

“Multi-colored chalks!”

“We’re doing this outside at night,” said Andresen. “Can’t we do something with light?”

Mei perked up. “I know what you can do.”

“All this is well and good for the laity,” Keith Auer merged from the crowd, “but what about us mages? Have you tried doing joint magic with the cores?”

“Or moving really big things?”

“Or really small ones?”

“Okay, okay.” Magdala waved for silence. “Sounds like we have a lot of ideas. Let’s split up into groups and figure out what is and isn’t possible.”

“What about security?” asked Gordon. “No one will come if we can’t assure their safety.”

“Ask the scrytives,” said Mei from her perch on the bridge parapets. “Scrytive Vogt will help.”

Magdala frowned. “Won’t you be there?”

Mei shook her head.

Before Magdala could ask for clarification, Gordon asked, “Who’s going to pay for all this?”

“Oh, that’s easy. I will.” Seeing the shock on the younger mage’s face, Magdala held in a grin. “I’m the Gallus family heir. That has to be worth something.”

Gordon’s jaw set. “Your family will let you do that?”

“Yes.” Assuming she moved fast enough. “And if they won’t, I have a bored roommate to rely on.”

Gordon’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean-”

“I do. Miss Fletcher?” Magdala turned to the working mage, whose hands had taken up residence over her mouth. “Are you okay?”

“Are we really doing this?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, wow.”