As we left the foyer, I found that I somehow knew that the laboratory…

“Ken,” I said, “from now on, I want to call the laboratory the ‘workshop’ instead.”

Ken blinked in surprise. “Why?”

“Because it sounds more scholarly and productive, and less like something you’d find in a mad scientist movie,” I said.

Sparkle, still perched on my shoulder, giggled.

“But…” Ken said. “But…Laboratory!”

I eyed him. “The way you’re pronouncing every syllable, as if you expect it to be full of Tesla Coils, giant toggle switches, and a half-built monster, makes me all the more eager to change what we call it.”

Ken sighed and, in a really very good impression of Peter Lorre, said “Yes, Mistress.”

I giggled. “Thank you, Ken.”

…that the workshop was now two floors down from where we were. “So, explain this to me again…why is it that two days ago, rooms that I wanted were practically handed to me as soon as I opened a door, but now they’re at least a short walk away?”

Sparkle spoke up, surprising me a little. “The House was showing off for you, Mistress. You like walking around in it, don’t you?”

I nodded. “Definitely. I’ve practically fallen head over heels in love with this house. I want to see all of it that there is to see.”

Ken smiled. “That’s why it’s not giving you shortcuts at the moment. As Sparkle said, it was showing you what it could do…now it’s showing you what it is, most likely because you’re enjoying the interior of the House. I suspect that when you need to reach a room urgently, you will find it precisely where you need it to be: immediately at hand.”

I considered that as we started down a spiral staircase that I’d never seen before, its railings carved with beautifully ornate abstract designs. “Strangely enough,” I said finally, “that makes a lot of sense to me. Either I’m cracking up, or I’m starting to adjust.”

“Or both!” Sparkle added helpfully.

“Or both,” I agreed.

I ran my fingers over the railing, feeling the elegant carvings. “You know,” I said as we reached the bottom and set off down another hallway, “it sounds to me like the house is more aware than you give it credit for.”

Ken shrugged as he drifted along beside me. “It’s not a simple thing, Mistress, since the residents of the House seem - at least to me - to have an impact on its level of awareness and behavior.”

Sparkle made a sound of agreement. “I remember how the House closed in around Mistress Chessie after her parents died, like it was helping to protect her. It was so still and silent, except wherever she was.”

Ken nodded. “And how it came to life again, like a flower blooming, after she met your father.”

“I see,” I replied, even though that hadn’t really cleared anything up for me. I felt a surge of smug, amused satisfaction that definitely wasn’t my own, and reached out to caress the wall lightly. “And you like it that way, huh?”

Ken looked at me. “Pardon?”

I shook my head. “Never mind.” If the House liked being mysterious and confusing, I could live with that.

Ken eyed me for a moment longer, then shook his head a little. “I’m inclined to suggest you not allow the question to linger in your mind too much. At the end of the day, you may be certain of three things and trust them unconditionally. One of those things is that the House is your guardian as much as you are its.”

The idea that the house cared about me and would protect me brought with it a surprisingly strong wave of warmth and security. Again, I quickly realized that the emotion wasn’t my own. That it came from outside of me, and was being shown to me somehow.

This, then, was how the House communicated when it wanted to.

Intellectually, I knew that the idea that the House could simply project emotions into my mind should make my skin crawl. Instead, I found myself smiling and relaxing at the thought, my hand resting on the wall gently. After a moment, the emotions faded, and I was a little sorry when they did.

Ken was watching me with a strange look on his face from a few steps away, and it took me another moment to realize that I’d stopped walking without warning. I felt my cheeks heat up and cleared my throat. “I believe the house just let me know that it likes me, and that it likes being mysteriously weird.”

Sparkle giggled. “Yeah, Mistress Chessie used to get that impression sometimes too.”

“Your mother,” Ken said slowly, “once told me that the House sometimes communicated with her through strong emotions. Was it something like that?’

“Exactly like that,” I confirmed with a nod.

“Good,” Ken said firmly.

“Good?”

“Very good, actually,” he said. “It’s another sign that the House has accepted you as its Guardian.”

“Ah.” That thought was as strangely reassuring as the warmth and security I’d felt from the House. I started walking again. “So, what’re the other two things?”

Ken smiled. “That you may rely on my loyalty absolutely, and that every day will bring new surprises.”

We reached the workshop door and Ken smiled. “Now, come on, it’s time to make the pinwheel spin again.”

“I’m not going to almost pass out this time,” I asked as I opened the door, “am I?”

“Unlikely,” Ken shook his head. “Though spellcasting can be draining, especially casting several spells in quick succession, you should find yourself building up stamina quickly and recovering faster with every session. As with any muscle, it grows stronger with use.”

“That makes sense,” I said, closing the door behind us as Sparkle flitted over to perch atop a bookcase. “So…”

Ken pointed to where the pinwheel was still attached to the workbench from yesterday. “Your target, Mistress. Yesterday, you managed to ruffle papers near it. You know it’s possible to cast a spell, and you have a better idea of how to gather the energy to do so. Today we’re going to concentrate on focus, precision, and economy of energy.”

“When I was visualizing the spell yesterday,” I said thoughtfully, “I was trying to imagine what the breeze would feel like to me. When I cast the spell…that feels so strange to say…when I cast the spell, I felt the breeze run over my body and down my arm before gusting out away from my hand.”

Ken smiled and nodded encouragingly. “Which means?”

“Which means I wasn’t visualizing my intended spell effect properly.”

He beamed. “Correct. And so?”

“So I need to change the way I visualize the spell,” I said.

“Excellent.” He gestured. “But first, let’s talk about how much energy you were pushing into the spell.”

“Economy of energy,” I said, perching on the stool beside the bench.

Ken nodded. “Yes. When you cast the spell yesterday, there was a visual manifestation before you released it…that is, I could see the energy as you were gathering it, which means you were pushing in too much for such a small spell. And since you don’t know how to draw energy from the environment yet, that means it all came from you, which is one of the reasons you were so exhausted after casting it. Your body simply wasn’t prepared to manage the amount of energy you used up.”

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“So if I give the spell just the energy it needs…or somehow pull that energy from around me instead of from inside me…it’s both less wasteful and less taxing on me?”

Ken considered his answer carefully for a moment. “That’s essentially correct. It’s a bit more complicated than that, but you have the right idea. Now, call to mind what you did yesterday when you successfully cast the spell.”

I did so instantly and with perfect recall of both the sensory experience and my understanding of what I’d done. Being eidetic sounds like a spectacularly awesome talent to anyone who doesn’t have it...and while I won’t deny that having a nearly 100% accurate memory with almost instantaneous recall is extremely useful, it has its downsides. For every scrap of useful information that I can dredge up at the right moment, or every moment of happiness I can relive, my mind can – and will – just as quickly provide useless and unpleasant memories with the same crystal clarity when triggered.

So yes, I appreciate how useful a talent it is...but it can be distracting and difficult to manage at times.

I nodded a little. “I have it.”

“Good,” Ken said. “Stand at the end of the bench like before and visualize the spell. This time, only gather as much energy as you need to make a gentle breeze, and make sure you adjust the visualization as you mentioned earlier.”

I rose from my stool and walked to the end of the bench, then glared down the length of it at the multi-colored pinwheel trapped in the vice at the far end. I was going to make it spin today, no matter what.

Ken smirked. “Glaring at it won’t make it spin, Mistress. Though I suppose that intimidating it might help.”

Sparkle giggled.

My cheeks warmed up a little, and I spent a moment examining my state of mind. I was surprised to find that I was a bit offended by the pinwheel. I was long used to being able to do things on the first try. Not because I was naturally good at everything – or anything, really, other than learning – but because I usually read everything I could on a subject and preferably observed others doing it before trying it myself.

So here I was, failing not once or twice but repeatedly for hours before finally succeeding. Had I become arrogant about my own ability to master new skills? Probably. That might be holding me up...my study of magic had, so far, turned that on its head. With magic, it seemed that the more I learned, the less I actually knew.

I said as much to Ken.

He seemed amused by the observation. “That’s substantially true, Mistress. Your mother used to say that magic was the greatest mystery in the universe. Every time she thought she had some aspect of it figured out, some new piece of information would turn up, or something about it would change subtly, forcing her to reassess her conclusion.” He sighed softly. “It was one of the things she loved most about studying magic.”

“Sorry,” I said, just a bit sheepishly. “I’m very used to being able to quantify and prepare for a task so thoroughly that when it comes time to do it, I simply can.” I sighed a little. “Magic is...it almost seems to be actively dodging that.’

Ken smiled sympathetically. “It will.”

“That makes it sound like magic is alive,” I said curiously.

Ken pursed his lips and considered his reply for a minute. “In a very real way, it is.”

“But I thought magic was just energy...” I trailed off, confused.

Ken smiled a little. “It is energy, but it’s more than that at the same time. Magic can – and will – react in unexpected ways if you don’t pay close enough attention when constructing a spell, or if you’re casting under extreme duress. That’s one of the reasons why it’s so important to learn to do this properly.”

He sighed. “It’s an imperfect explanation. It’s hard to be clearer since nobody has ever completely understood magic.” He hesitated for a moment, then added, “At least, nobody who’s been sane enough to provide a lucid and clear explanation.”

I raised an eyebrow, but quickly decided not to ask. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

“Be that as it may,” Ken said, “I suppose you could say that magic is alive the same way the House is, only in a more nebulous and less directed way. The House has a consciousness of a sort and seems to be sentient. Magic, on the other hand, is alive without seeming to be sentient or having consciousness. It simply is, and sometimes reacts when drawn upon.”

“In what ways?” I asked. The idea was fascinating...that magic might be a living thing that could react changed the whole face of spellcasting.

Ken frowned a little. “It’s not that simple.” He paced back and forth for a moment, then asked, “Have you ever played Dungeons & Dragons?”

I blinked as my brain shifted gears to keep up with him. “A few times when I was an undergrad.”

“Did you ever run across the rules for Wild Magic, or for a Wand of Wonder?”

I nodded. “Sure. The group I played with hated both with a passion because they were so completely random. The guy running the game had pages of random-generation charts for both...roll for a result of 1 – 100 and see what happens.”

“Precisely,” Ken said with a nod.

I tipped my head a little, then it clicked. “Oh, okay. You can’t explain it because you don’t actually know what might happen.”

He spread his hands in a helpless sort of ‘there you go’ gesture. “I’ve seen miscast spells do anything from creating a bouquet of roses out of thin air, to disintegrating three square feet of brick wall.”

“Disintegration? Really?” I asked. “What happened to conservation of mass and energy?”

“If you can create something by pulling together matter from around you,” Ken replied very seriously, “you can reverse the process. It takes a lot more energy, because it means tearing an item down to its constituent elements...but it can be done.”

Something in my stomach did a few flips and dropped a little. “That’s...kind of a scary thought.”

Ken smiled lopsidedly. “Magic can be scary, Mistress. But far more often, it is wondrous and amazing.”

Sparkle zipped off the top of the bookcase where she’d been perched and zoomed in circles around my head for a moment before fluttering right in front of my face. “Mistress, you’re going to have to learn how to defend yourself. Why, even little pixies like me know how to defend ourselves.”

I smiled at her. “Intellectually, I understand that. I’m still coming to grips with it though.”

She looked bewildered. “Oh. Okay.” She shot away again, taking a lap around the room before perching on some books nearby again. “So, defend!”

I laughed. “Yes, ma’am.”

Ken chuckled. “We’ll work on defense later. For now, let’s focus on creating that gust of wind. Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” I said.

Ken lifted an eyebrow.

I considered what he’d said about the nature of magic, took a deep breath and nodded firmly. “I’m ready.”

“That’s better. Now, just like I taught you. Visualize the effect you want to create, gather the energy you need, package and cast it. And remember, only gather the energy you think you’re going to need for this...it’s a small spell, so it won’t take much.”

“You said something about gathering energy from the environment somehow?” I asked, visualizing a gentle gust of wind making the pinwheel spin slowly.

“Yes,” Ken said quietly, “but I’ll teach you about that later. It’s not a technique for beginners to tackle right away...it’s both easier and more taxing to use energy from outside yourself, so -”

“Come again?” I interrupted him, looking away from the pinwheel to give him a look that I hoped was as bewildered as I felt.

He smiled again. “It’s easier to gather energy when you draw from sources outside of yourself, because the energy of magic exists in a limitless abundance. Everything has magic in it to some extent, from the tiniest grain of sand to the largest sperm whale. Even natural forces generate magical energy, which is why some wizards like to perform complex rituals during storms. The amount of ambient energy available during a really strong thunderstorm is enough to send a rocket to the Moon.”

I whistled softly. “That’s a lot of energy.”

“Which is why drawing energy from outside yourself is more taxing,” Ken said. “While there’s a lot more available, it’s harder to...to metabolize energy drawn in from outside yourself, for lack of a better term, before you can use it. Your body will do that automatically in most cases, but it can be both mentally and physically exhausting.”

“Why is it taxing on the mind?”

“Because you have to be extremely careful about how much you take,” he replied. “Your mind manages the amount, while your body converts it to be...compatible with you. I suppose that’s the easiest way to put it. It can actually be physically dangerous to channel too much energy without safeguards in place, so -”

“Safeguards?” I asked, interrupting him again, though this time I hadn’t meant to. But this was a fascinating line of thought, and I was chasing it.

Ken smiled. “Generally something like a physical focus...a staff, a wand, rings and bracelets, crystals and gems, pretty much anything that has been prepared for such a task.” He planted his hands on his hips and gave me a mock stern look. “Which we’ll get to later, apprentice.”

I felt my cheeks heat up again and laughed at my own compulsive drive to learn. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

He laughed with me. “It’s all right, Mistress. But you really do need to walk before you can run. So... visualize, gather, package, cast. Like I taught you.”

I started over, envisioning the gust of wind I wanted to create...not feeling it myself this time but seeing in my mind’s eye how a little gust of wind would affect the pinwheel. Then I thought about gathering my energy and paused for a moment...

I had an idea.

I cupped my right hand, palm up as if to catch something in it. Then I envisioned a ball of air forming in my hand, swirling and moving in invisible patterns. I imagined energy trickling into the ball of energy from my palm and fingers, and felt a faint tingling sensation there as faint little streamers of light began flicking from my fingertips and joining the swirling mass of air above my hand.

“Excellent!” Ken said. “Now, package it and release it.”

I nodded, aimed my hand at the pinwheel, and murmured, “Ventus.” As I did, I gestured with my hand, opening my fingers and releasing the spell towards the pinwheel.

As I had the day before, I felt that strange pulling sensation somewhere inside me, following by a rushing passage of energy down my arm and out through my hand. None of the feelings were as intense as they had been previously.

The result was far more satisfying.

I felt a gentle breeze play over my fingertips, and at the other end of the bench the pinwheel began to spin slowly. It stopped after only a few seconds, but it had worked.

I had cast a spell, and it had worked precisely as intended.

From her nearby perch, Sparkle jumped up and down and cheered wildly.

“That’s the ticket!” Ken said enthusiastically. “Wonderful work, Mistress! Do you feel the same exhaustion you felt yesterday?”

I realized that, even through the elation I felt, there was none of the debilitating sense of being drained that had followed casting my first successful spell. “No, none at all. I feel pretty normal, really.”

Ken grinned. “That’s because it was a relatively small thing as such things go, and you used the right amount of energy for it this time. That was very well done.”

I felt my cheeks heat up and smiled at him.

“Now,” he said, and his smiled turned a bit wolfish, “do it again.”