Instead she launched right into our instructions. “Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen.” She was always very formal, and from her accent, I guessed that Other World English was not her first language. “Today, as you know, is the practical application of magic test. Students at the front of the room shall go first. There are three workstations set up behind the mist.”
Callie and I exchanged pleased nods. If the workstations were that small, today’s test couldn’t be that difficult.
Professor Tala reminded us of the importance of keeping our eyes on our own work and that our results must match what she had written.
“Are there any questions?” the tiny, yet imposing woman asked. “Then let’s begin.”
Because I sat in the middle of the room, I had some time before my test to review what Professor Tala had written.
Using only an empty cauldron, create steam and demonstrate that it is under your control, the board read. I smiled in recognition. This was a variation on the sequence I had made fun of the night before. And better yet, the foundation was a simple spell. We’d basically learned to boil water. I remembered laughing to myself as Professor Tala presented the results to the amazed class. What would they have said if I told them about stoves or microwaves?
I went over how I would achieve Professor Tala’s objectives until it was time for Callie’s and my turn.
“Good luck,” I mouthed to my roommate.
“You too,” she whispered. Then she vanished into the veil of mist.
Professor Tala’s mist had another benefit. In addition to preventing cheating, it kept me from seeing my classmates. Professor Tala herself was only an indistinct figure behind it.
I had never been on the teacher’s side of the big table. Just as I expected, there was a cauldron before me and nothing else.
To create steam, I first needed water. Elemental magic drew from the environment. I could have used Professor Tala’s mist, but the notes on the board specified not to. I would change the non-misty air around me into water, instead. The elements were so similar to one another, it only required a minor adjustment. I wouldn’t need a wand to focus. Envisioning what I wanted, I assumed the mental space that we had talked about in my classes for over a month now.
I got water all right. It splashed all over the table and onto me. Just enough landed in the cauldron to cover the bottom.
Much discussed, rarely practiced. What did I expect? Still, the burning blush spread across my cheeks.
Don’t lose focus, I urged myself. The only person who’s watching is Professor Tala.
The next step was heating the water. I would manipulate the the cauldron metal so particles rubbed against one another and created heat. Adding wind would distribute it evenly. All told, it was a slower process than watching an electric burner heat up.
At least, it was supposed to be.
As I brought wind into the equation, my cauldron metal glowed bright orange. The water yielded to steam in a brief, fierce hiss. Then the cauldron itself became a fireball. I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like the fire was drawing in the mist and using it to strengthen itself. It happened fast, too fast for me to react. Luckily Professor Tala put an end to the burning ball with a wall of ice. The table, a marble slab, emerged unharmed. The cauldron, however…
“Leah!” Callie gasped. Her side of the mist curtain had vanished, probably gobbled up by my fiery cauldron. “Are you unhurt?”
“Yes,” I said, too mortified to speak more.
“We will continue for now with two workstations,” Professor Tala announced to the class, summoning a new mist with a wave of her hand. “I need one person to fetch a new cauldron. Please try the kitchen first.” As she turned to me, I felt exactly one inch tall. “Leah,” Professor Tala said. “Please stay until the others finish. I must speak with you.”
As the students continued their test, I waited, literally on the edge of my bench. If someone had tapped me on the shoulder, I would’ve jumped.
A few minutes after the last student had left, Professor Tala seated herself across from me, using the bench from the next row’s table.
“You are new here and have not experienced my class from the beginning, so I am not going to count this test toward your grade. By now I assume you see the importance of taking this work seriously. Haphazard use of elements can be dangerous.”
“Professor Tala,” I ventured. “I see where you’re coming from. But I have taken this class very seriously.”
Professor Tala raised an eyebrow.
“Callie and I have prepared for today almost every night for two weeks. We were not able to get into the lab -”
“The evening book says otherwise,” Professor Tala interrupted. She beckoned with one hand, the fingers surprisingly long and slender for her height. A book bound in red leather appeared behind us in the air and settled on the tabletop in front of Professor Tala. She flipped through pages thick and soft like paper towels, then stopped and turned the book to me.
“Your signature and Callie’s are in the book, almost every week this month. Your mentors left notes that you were disruptive and uninterested in what they had to teach.”
Rosalyn and Lily! I summoned all the control I had learned at Portalis Park not to smash my fists down on the table.
“Now. You were saying, about you and Callie not being in the lab?”
I plowed ahead with my story anyway, hoping she would read the truth in my eyes. “The signatures must be a mistake. I’ve never seen that book the entire time I’ve been at Valeriya.”
“You are accusing your mentors of lying?”
“If they made those entries in the book, then yes,” I just managed to keep from growling.
“Very well. Then how did you know what to do for the practical?” Professor Tala said dryly.
I told her about about Callie’s and my method of practicing with notes and sticks. As I explained, the professor’s lips drew into a tight line. “Unacceptable.” From her, it was the ultimate condemnation. “If you had the same practice, you should have had the same results.”
I listened, not comprehending at first.
“How is it that Callie passed and you did not?” Professor Tala asked.
She was right. It was unbelievable. And I was ready to be done with this conversation. I needed to regroup. Maybe later I could present the situation in a way she would actually credit. “You are right, Professor. It is far-fetched. But that is how it happened. May I go?”
“Yes. I expect better things from you from here on, Leah of Ivenbury.” If I’d been a village, Professor Tala’s dark eyes would have burned me to the ground.
“I’m here for mirror magic,” I surprised myself by saying.
“You speak of mirror magic, Leah of Ivenbury. But you must walk before you can fly. Elements are walking. And mirrors, that is flying.”
My face burned. “But what about all the legends of the First People? Everyone knows those stories! So why isn’t mirror magic more studied?”
“Legends are not reality,” Professor Tala pronounced as if that solved everything. She rose from the bench and headed back for the marble demonstration table, taking the evening book with her. So much for the “open-minded” academics. I wondered if Professor Tala would believe me if I told her where I came from, surely a place more bizarre than any legend she knew. I wasn’t some strange piece of fiction! This Other World and everything in it was!
I stumbled from the classroom, still unable to believe this was happening. I had to get out of the tower! My tears were building up like storm clouds. I wanted to be alone when they hit. I hurried to a window and glanced outside. Good. There was still a little gray-blue light. I’d deal with the dark coming back. I might miss dinner, but I didn’t really care. The way I felt, I doubted I’d eat for a week.
Stone-faced, I passed countless students descending Valeriya’s many flights of stairs. High school had made me well-practiced at avoiding curious eyes.
Outside, I looke
d again at the long, wind-swept road that led back to Ceredwyn the Gray and Autumnstead, at the bottom of the stairs where I had seen Tolliver for the last time. It filled me with sadness and fear that when I tried to picture Gerry’s face and remember why I had come to this world, I could only see Tolliver.
Not knowing if the soldier could read, I hadn’t written to him. Well, that wasn’t the only reason. I was fairly certain Faxon or someone else could read it to him. It might have been fun to get to know him by letter (even if he had to get his dictated). But I still felt guilty about the thoughts I’d had about Tolliver, continued to have when my fear and loneliness seemed unbearable. And so, I wrote letters in my mind, pages-long, never committing a word of them to paper and ink.
I thought of writing to Faxon but just didn’t know him well enough to know what to say. I expect my motivation would have been the same for Tolliver if I hadn’t been crushing on him like a sixth-grader.
I had written to Queen Arencaster, a reservation-filled account that Valeriya was a place for elements, not mirror magic at all. Perhaps I’d been sent to the wrong place. She’d answered with a single line: Persevere.
Chapter Nine
Ben
In the twilight, the tower grounds resembled the wild English moors of the Brontë books. It was the perfect accompaniment to my dreary reflections.
Despite how they may have appeared, my wandererings were not aimless. A few weeks ago, I had found a bench at the center of a grove and started coming here to sit and think. I had grown fond of the spot for the solitude and because the bench resembled the one by the Portalis Park wishing well.
Today this reminder of home made me feel sadder. Suppose I forgot California entirely and everyone I had known there? What if I never found out how to return? Maybe my family was already dead and gone. If only I knew whether time flowed differently here from there…
“It’s dark to be out alone,” a deep male voice said.
I jumped and, before I realized it was coming, sniffled.
“Do you want to talk about it?” The man the voice belonged to was tall and slender, clad in what looked like a professor’s robes. Other than that, I couldn’t make out any features.
“I don’t know you,” I said, then wished I could take it back. He was only trying to help. I hadn’t meant to be rude. It was just what my shyness did when I was under pressure and didn’t have time to collect myself.
He still sat down beside me. “‘Ben’ is what they call me.” His rich voice filled my head with visions of melted chocolate. “And you?”
“Leah,” I answered.
“Just Leah?” he mused.
“It’s a long story. Why are you ‘just Ben?’”
“My full name is “Jairus Amir D’avontlea.”
My head spun. Ben had just uttered a collection of syllables, beautiful, but unintelligible to me. I couldn’t begin to imitate the sounds he’d made.
It’s easier to have everyone call me ‘Ben,’ or ‘Benjamin’ if they’re being formal. Using a common name of this land helps me connect with Valeriya’s society. It’s especially important to me because I have come very far to study here.”
“How far?” I whispered, suddenly conscious of the music in his baritone that hinted of lands distant, even in the Other World.
“Across oceans and continents.” Ben’s voice took on a sweeping quality as though this were a story he told often yet never tired of.
And yet… I had still come farther than he had.
“My entire kingdom is counting on me to be their teacher of magic when my time here is up,” Ben said.
So he was a royal like Paxta. I wondered what his home was like.
“How many years have you been at Valeriya?” I asked.
“Six.”
And I thought my few months here felt long. More and more, I was beginning to see how wrong I’d been to think I could finish the curriculum at Valeriya quickly. The thought of magic as a lifelong pursuit was just depressing. “You must miss your kingdom.”
“Every day. My people inhabit the Islands of Silk, a place subject to the wrath of fire and water. I am learning to use magic to protect them and to be a steward of the land. This way, our living does not come at the expense of the plants and animals that are our neighbors. After seven years, my course of study ends, and I shall return home. I must learn and research all I can in that time.”
I wondered if Ben would know anything about mirrors and other worlds, if it would be rude to ask without volunteering more about myself. “Do you know anything about…mirror magic?” I felt so nervous, I could barely choke out the last word.
“It fascinates me.” I couldn’t see Ben’s face, but I could hear his quiet, powerful enthusiasm. “If I weren’t the son of kings and the heir to the Islands, I would devote my life to studying mirror magic.”
A thrill of hope ran through me. I couldn’t have chosen a better person to run into! “I came to the Tower to learn to control my mirror magic. They say I must learn elements first, but I’m hopeless at them.”
Wind howled across the lonely grounds, making both of us shiver.
“How interesting. I should like to hear all about it,” Ben said through chattering teeth.
I had to smile at the sudden humanity his shivering gave his smooth, deep voice.
“Have you eaten tonight?” Ben asked.
And so we found ourselves in the Grand Hall with cold plates of what remained from the night’s dinner. Around us, the long tables and fine chairs were empty, save for a few stragglers like us, dining by the red lanterns the servants used when most of the students had left.
At Paxta’s table, of course, the candles still burned brightly. Her group of royals, nobles, and especially promising scholars always talked and drank wine late into the night. Ben actually stopped by their table with me. “Good evening, Majesty.” He made a courtly bow that put Gerard’s to shame.
While I had expected Ben to have handsome features, now I felt grateful we had met in the shadows. If he had approached in good light, I would have been too tongue-tied to speak to him. His smooth copper skin had no trace of beard. His eyes, golden like a cat’s, reflected the candlelight. In the fashion of Ceredwyn, he wore his hair in a ponytail at the nape of his neck, but unlike that of the locals, Ben’s hair had a certain…aerodynamic quality. His tight curls formed more of a bun shape, which I immediately started thinking of as a “pufftail”.
“Your Grace,” Paxta greeted him with more than her usual radiance. (I supposed his appearance had an effect on her, too.) “Will you and Leah be joining us this evening?”
“Another night, perhaps. There is magic to be discussed.” Ben took her extended hand and kissed it. The tall dark man and the golden woman made a beautiful courtly tableau. The sight filled me with longing. Not a trace of Gerry’s princely costumes or manners ever made it to our lives offstage.
“Be careful not to neglect us.” The light of suppressed laughter in her eyes defeated Paxta’s attempt at a grave expression. “Or I shall start commanding you to dinner.”
“Something I would not regret at all,” Ben said.
Discretely, I took stock of the rest of the table. They were at least as interested in what Ben and Paxta would do next as I was. (At work, we called these situations and other dramas “Portalis soap.”)
I let Ben choose our table. To my relief, he brought us to one in the shadows, well away from Paxta and her entourage. Now I felt assured that nothing would interrupt our talk about mirror magic, and if I had to divulge any secrets, no one would overhear.
“Please tell me all that you can about your mirror magic,” Ben said before we’d even sat down.
I started with an edited version of Fiona’s homecoming party, not revealing that I had come from another world, but keeping myself as Leah of Ivenbury and claiming the mirror trick was often attempted by Princess Fiona, who was absent at the time. I then told Ben about studying with Callie and how differently we had each fared
during the practical. “I went to my thinking spot in the garden, and you know the rest,” I concluded.
Without taking a single bite yet, Ben had pushed aside his plate - maybe that explained how thin he was, despite his height - and procured from somewhere a quill and paper. “This is something I enjoy about mirror magic. Much like the onions people on this continent love to cook with, there are many layers to unfold. Sometimes I think it is an unending mystery.”
“How rare is it for people at the Tower to use mirror magic?” I asked. “Or anywhere, for that matter?”
“It is rare enough that classes are offered here only every third year if there are enough participants,” Ben said. “I have been fortunate enough to see three cycles of mirror magic classes while here at Valeriya. The affairs of mere elements keep Valeriya busy. Mirror magic is often forgotten in day-to-day pursuits.” Ben took a bite of shepherd’s pie and chewed thoughtfully. “Would you mind showing me your element work? I have a few ideas that may help you.”
“Would you be able to stop the magic if it got out of control?” My stomach twisted as I thought of the smoking cauldron. “Especially if we are breaking the rules so I can demonstrate…”
“I think I can handle it. As for the esteemed rules…” Ben raised an ironic eyebrow, “they will not hinder us. As a sixth-year student, I have the authority to accompany you into almost any magic laboratory in the Tower.”
Which is how I found myself meeting Ben outside the Grand Hall again the following night, with two plates of bread and butter in hand. The night’s meal, stew, wouldn’t be easy to carry to the remote lab where we were going, and it would raise too many questions to take a tray.
Ben glanced at the crusty loaves and nodded his approval. “How was your day?” he asked. His voice sounded deeper and more melodious when heard in the context of his tiger’s eyes and even features. Tall and lean, he cut an imposing, graceful figure climbing the stairs in his dark robes.
“Alright,” I said. “Professor Tala said she’d scheduled a makeup practical, but it’s not for a month.”
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