So, how do you approach your boss and friend and ask them to join you for an odd discussion with your parents? I genuinely, but only briefly, thought about lying about finding a book that Wilhena might like. It would work, but it only took a few seconds to see that would have huge potential downsides. When you're trying to establish trust, starting with a lie isn't the best idea.

I finally stopped planning and rehearsing and just asked him straight out.

"Henrig, would you have a few minutes after work to talk to my parents about something? We've got a bit of a sticky issue, and I thought you'd be a good source for advice. I promise we're not looking to borrow money or sell you anything."

"As long as it's not mediating a family dispute, I'd be glad to help."

"Nope, we're just not sure we're seeing all the options, and I thought you might have more insight into the potential political issues."

"Political? Local or state? I'm only a bit aware of political issues outside Pleichston, and those mostly just when they might affect keeping my store supplied."

"Local first, possibly state or more, that's why we need you. You're much more informed than I am, only my dad has any useful knowledge of the political situation, since he's always keeping up with the broadsheets. Since he isn't sure, and mom and I aren't much help, I thought you might be a good counselor. If you didn't know, then perhaps you might know if we could impose on Wilhena for advice."

"Well, that makes sense to me. If I can't answer, she probably can, she grew up on the stuff, and still keeps her hand in the tub."

I have to admit that idiom sounds odd to me, but it's no weirder than some of the old ones I remember. For example, what even does cool beans mean? Why would you want them? Warm beans have better flavor and more pleasant texture. Language aside, the meaning was clear. If he didn't know, she'd be able to help us.

The rest of the day dragged by, customer by customer and shelf by shelf as I restocked the store and handled the intermittent stream of customers.

"Almost got the books to a place where I can hand them off to you, and you can be cramped in the office a few hours a day." Henrig had been threatening that for a tenday now, but I didn't know if I'd be helping with the store once this whole shift in magic methodology played out.

"That sounds good to me, you can have the customers, I'll take the numbers."

"Alright, then. Let's get this place cleaned up and closed down, then we can go have that chat with your folks."

We did just that, taking about 15 minutes to finish up the day and only a couple more to walk over to my parents' shop.

As we entered the shop, I scanned for customers inside, then flipped the sign to Closed. Seeing my dad's nod from the main desk area, I then locked the door behind me.

"Henrig, thanks for coming. We'll meet in the back, it's a bit cramped, but it's more private."

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"Well, when Grint asks for advice, it's hard to say no. So many kids know everything already, eh, Ulricht?" Henrig grinned and elbowed my dad, sharing the common bond of dad-jokers.

"It's not what they know, it's what they know that isn't so that is the problem," Dad replied. OK, that one is totally my fault. I'd used that line before, shamelessly taken from some politician in my old world.

"So. What's the problem, then? Must be a bit sticky if you are needing some outside advice."

"Henrig, why don't you have a seat, Grint will need to show you something, then we can start talking. Grint, you want some help with the demonstration?"

"No, I can handle it. You have a letter knife?"

He rummaged around in his desk drawer, then handed me a small knife.

"Here."

I steeled myself, then sliced quickly across my palm, managing to stifle my outburst and keep to a manly hissing intake of air to hide the pain.

"Are you mad?" Henrig jumped out of the chair.

"No, just wait a moment, you'll see why we need advice." I exhaled a deep breath, and took in another. My focus was much faster this time. A third breath, and then I showed him my hand clearly. A bit of blood dripped off, having pooled up in my hand, but my hand was only marked with a slightly pink line.

"Well, paint me red and beat me crazy! What in all the green apples did you just do?" Look, I already said idioms make little sense, what can I say, something is lost in the translation.

"I've discovered a way to use magic for healing."

Henrig collapsed back into the chair.

"Give me a minute."

We managed to give him about 30 seconds before dad broke into relieved laughter.

"Glad it's not just me! I did about the same thing when he showed me that back at home."

"So. My mom knows how to do that, too. That's the big one. I can also do this."

The knife floated out of my hand and hovered in the air. I drew several shapes in the air, circle, triangle, square, hexagon, and a relatively nice cube, even if I did say so myself.

"...which my dad is mastering. It seems that magic isn't all that good at what we've been told it can do, and what comes out naturally. It's not very effective at doing the flame bursts or electro snaps. Those are common because of the uncontrolled emotional outbursts that power them during puberty, but they are not very efficient. Since it's so hard to use those effectively, just about nobody trains hard enough to get to this point. Even with the proof that it's possible, it's taken my parents more than a month to get to the point that they can each do one of the skills, if not completely reliably. That's the problem. It's not just me, it's at least something that others have learned to do. We need to see if it's a couple of family skills that I inherited, or if it's more than just us. But the big thing is this, what are the implications of a magic renaissance in these areas? Dad was telling me that our state is one of the few states left that has mandatory magic training for all inhabitants. So, will this put a target on us all if and when it gets out?"

We all looked at Henrig expectantly.

"We need Wilhena. This is so much. It's big. I … I can't give you good enough advice. Grint was right about needing Wilhena. This… it's..." Henrig paused briefly. "Let me think about this overnight. Tomorrow, after work, you are all coming over for dinner. We can discuss this, just the five of us in the library afterwards without interruptions."

My dad shook hands with Henrig, who nodded at him, clapped me on the shoulder, and turned to walk out the door.

"See you in the morning, Grint. You aren't getting out of work that easily." His words floated back to me as my dad walked him out the front door.

That wasn't how I'd thought this would go. I'd hoped he'd tell us we were jumping at shadows, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. We weren't alone, we had help outside our limited family resources. I only hope that help is enough.