“It’s your turn,” Agernon said.

“Why do I have to do this?” Felitïa complained.

“You fail,” Elderaan replied. “Rest a moment and start over.”

“I said it’s your turn,” Agernon repeated.

Elderaan glanced at the cards in his hand and grimaced. He shot a quick look at Agernon to see if he had noticed. Maybe he would just think he was bluffing. Probably not. Picking a card from the less-than-desirable selection, he played it, and turned back to Felitïa.

She had put the books aside and had sat on the floor. “Right,” he said. “Rest over. Begin again.”

With a very audible sigh, she picked up the books and balanced them again on her head. Once they were stable, she lowered her arms and stood there, her face wrenched in concentration.

“The key is mental discipline, Felitïa,” Elderaan said. “All wizards require it, but mentalists doubly so. You have to learn focus and concentration.”

“For someone babbling about focus,” Agernon grumbled, “you might have some for our game.”

Felitïa giggled, and the books wobbled. She tried to adjust her stance to stop them, but within moments, they all tumbled to the floor. “I’ll never manage this,” she pouted.

Poor child. She hadn’t quite grasped yet that that wasn’t the point of the exercise. “Concentrate, Felitïa. You’ll never be able to cast magic if you can’t concentrate on a simple exercise. Pick up the books and try again.”

“But it’s not simple,” she protested as she gathered up the books.

“Neither is magic.”

Agernon stood up. “I’m afraid I have to be on my way; however, I think I should be declared winner of today’s game by default.” He grabbed his cloak from the chair where it was lying. “Considering your lack of attention to it.”

“Hmm? Yes, as you will,” Elderaan replied, and then realised just how rude he was being. “I’m sorry, Agernon. Won’t happen again. See you next time?”

Agernon gave a non-committal grunt, and shoved his hat onto his head. “Good day.” He snatched his cane, and headed for the way out.

When he was gone, Elderaan sighed. “Run along, Felitïa. That’s enough for tonight. Remind me never to try to teach you and play cards at the same time again.”

Felitïa smiled, dropped the books, and ran from the room.

“Especially since my own failure to do both ruins what I’m trying to teach you.” This master-apprentice thing was taking a bit of getting used to.

* * * * *

Felitïa opened the cage and picked up one of the rats as gently as she could manage. When new ones arrived, she liked to take the opportunity to get to know them. The rat’s little pink nose twitched rapidly. She liked when they did that. It was cute.

She rubbed the rat’s back, and looked at Elderaan beside her. “I’ve been wondering. Why are they always white? And why do people want to buy them? There are rats everywhere. Can’t they just catch one themselves?”

“The white ones are rare,” Elderaan replied. “Not so easy to find. Though, to be honest, I don’t actually know why the colour is important. Perhaps people think their rarity brings some sort of extra prestige. Or maybe they’re just hardier than other colours. Who knows? As for the rats themselves, enchanters find them useful for testing spells on before using them on humans.”

“I’m calling this one Lon the Third. We sold Lon the Second yesterday.” The rat squealed and wriggled in her hands and then snapped at her. In shock, she dropped it back into the cage.

“Careful,” Elderaan said. “Did it bite you?”

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Felitïa shook her head, feeling somewhat embarrassed. “I’m okay.” This didn’t normally happen. She was always gentle with them, and none of them had ever bitten her before. Had she accidentally hurt it somehow? In the cage, it was running about. “I don’t get it. Why’s he so agitated?”

“Perhaps there’s something you can do to calm him,” Elderaan said.

Felitïa looked up at him, a tingle of excitement starting to spread through her. Did he mean what she thought he meant? Rats didn’t normally bite like that, and Elderaan hadn’t snapped at her when he’d told her to be careful. He would normally snap if she’d done something wrong. “Did you do this? I didn’t see you.”

“You weren’t exactly paying attention to me, and I can be subtle, you know.”

Felitïa nearly squeaked from joy. Elderaan had taught her her first spell a couple days ago after nearly six months of waiting!

In the cage, Lon the Third was still running about, stirring up the other rats a little in the process. She kept her eyes on Lon and concentrated, reaching for the reserves of energy inside her. The feel of the magic began to wash through her. Her whole body began to tingle, and she shook slightly.

“Be calm, Felitïa,” Elderaan said. “When you’re calm, you have much greater control. Lose your cool, and the magic could fail you.”

Felitïa took a deep breath and muttered the incantation; the magic released. Then the tiredness came. It had done that last time, too. “Did I do too much again?” Lon had lain down and gone to sleep.

“Perhaps a little,” Elderaan answered. “You tell me.”

“I feel tired, and it’s only one simple spell.”

“You’ll learn, Felitïa. Be patient.”

“But I don’t think I have very much talent. I mean, if I’m so tired so quickly…”

“I suspect you have more talent than you yet realise, Felitïa. But even if you don’t, it doesn’t matter. The rituals and incantations we use are just guides. Remember that. You must tailor every spell to you. A good wizard learns to tweak the spell so that it achieves for him the desired result while using as little of his personal energy as possible. Now, finish your chores, and then get some rest.”

“Is my room finished yet?” she asked.

“Not yet, but soon. The builders need another day or two. Now, back to work.”

Felitïa nodded, and returned to the tasks he had set her.

* * * * *

The streets were noisier than usual today. Quorge was a loud, busy city most days, but today didn’t seem any busier than usual. For some reason, people were just speaking and yelling more loudly than Felitïa was used to. The line for the well was longer than normal, though, so maybe the streets were busier. She wasn’t sure anymore. It was becoming difficult to focus, and her head was starting to hurt.

When she had first started doing chores for Elderaan, she had jumped into it eagerly—anything to please her new teacher. Then after a few months, she had started to resent having to do everything around the place, and rationalisations that he was an old man and deserved to be repaid for the lessons he gave her had little effect on those feelings. Now, nearly a year and a half after starting her training, she had just learnt to live with it. She didn’t enjoy it, but she didn’t resent it either. The chores simply had to be done, and she was the one who had to do them.

An old woman pushed her way in front of her. Felitïa was about to say something, but the scowl on the woman’s face made her decide otherwise. There were many people in the city who were suspicious and distrustful of Elderaan because he was a wizard. These people distrusted wizards in general, and so distrusted Felitïa, too. It didn’t help that she was a Folith.

She was definitely getting a headache. Far too much noise. Weird. The hustle and bustle of the city didn’t normally affect her like this. She tried to focus on her concentration exercises, but to little avail. Perhaps she was coming down with something. She’d been experiencing some stomach cramps recently.

“Wizards,” the old woman said. “Totally untrustworthy. If you don’t watch your back, they’ll turn you into a toad or something worse. Why won’t anyone do something? It’s time innocent people got some protection.” The woman continued to babble.

“Please,” Felitïa said. “I don’t mean you any harm. Even if I did, I couldn’t possibly—”

She stopped as the old woman turned to glare at her. Her mouth wasn’t moving, but she was still babbling. At least, Felitïa could hear someone babbling—or was it many people? The pain in her head increased. Everyone was yelling at her, or at each other, or, or…

The sound was deafening. It was like everyone had suddenly directed all their personal conversations at her.

“This line’s moving too slowly. Father will be angry with me if I don’t get back soon.”

“Ha! What a fool! This little trinket is worth five times what he just sold it to me for.”

“I know that statuette is worth much more than what he gave me, but it doesn’t matter. I now have enough money to pay my lease on the store. I won’t lose the business after all!”

“What a beautiful day!”

“I wonder what Mommy would do if I threw my frog at her.”

Dizziness washed over her, and she stumbled about, trying not to fall, hands over her ears, trying to block the sound. People were staring at her, some angrily, some with concern. But they were all blurry. No, it was just the pain messing her vision. She hoped. “Please stop! Stop sending me your thoughts!”

Thoughts? How could she be hearing thoughts? She fell to her knees and screamed. The world around her became a jumble of disconnected sights and sounds...and thoughts. Is she all right? Where am I? Someone get some help! Does it really matter? Who is she? She’s that Folith girl who’s apprenticed to that wizard. It matters. The poor girl. It’s what you get for fooling around with powers not meant for mortal hands. She is here with us. Maybe the wizard will know what to do. The most beautiful woman. Damn wizards! She is powerful indeed if she can see us in this place.