Vivian laughed. “Don’t. He’s Marshall’s nephew.”
When the headmistress returned the next day, she put a screeching halt to it. “What were you thinking? I have a pile of complaints six feet tall on my desk! Drop this. Drop it now. If you haven’t discovered the culprit by now you never will. If I hear another whisper about this I will haul you up in front of our council representative so fast your dandruff will wonder where you went. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to fix this mess that you made. Good day!”
The girls were relived once the pronouncement became generally known (though how it became known was a matter of doubt since they were reasonably sure that the professor would have died rather than to admit it…if the Headmistress’ footman knew how the information got out…he wasn’t saying anything but he looked smug as he adjusted his powdered wig). Marshall’s classes were unbearable: he glared, stomped, and shouted constantly, but as that was what he’d done before the slime incident, it made very little difference to the students.
***
“No, Mia. Like this” Beth’s fingers flew across the keys, drawing crisp clear notes from the instrument. Mia sighed. “I think I should drop music. Professor Petrov is right. I’d be acceptable if I could practice more, but I can’t! I’d be fine if I’d been playing since I was six, but I haven’t. I’d be ok if I was a musical prodigy, but I’m not.” Beth looked at her patiently and played the notes again. “You’re giving up too quickly. Professor Petrov is an amazing musician, and she has a gift for bringing out the best in a seasoned performer, but she’s not good with beginners. She gets angry, then you get nervous, and that makes you mess up and then she gets angry all over again. Most people don’t sit down at a piano and just start playing. Most of us have to practice. Try again.”
Mia calmed down and tried the notes. She stumbled on the first three, but Beth didn’t flinch, so she continued. When she stopped Beth clapped, and Mia started. “You’re too hard on yourself. That was fine for someone who’s only been playing a few weeks. All you need right now is practice. Spend an hour in here and see how it goes. If you need me I’ll be in the other practice room. I want to work on the third phrase of the duet Lizzy and I have been writing.” She walked off, humming.
Mia stared at the piano the way some people would look at a venomous snake; she might have preferred the snake. She went through the piece again, faltering here and there, and trying the fingering again and again.
She felt like a limp rag when she left the music room an hour later. Mia checked the practice schedule that always hung on a clipboard on the far wall. Beth had practice room three booked for the next hour. Mia opened the door slightly, letting the music out into the hall. The music rooms were soundproof so that entire orchestras could practice at the same time and never disturb each other in their private little rooms. Beth was wrapped up in her music, sitting at the piano trying the same musical phrase over and over, searching for who knew what.
Mia closed the door to the practice room, pulled on her heavy cloak and made her way back to the dorm. She still had a long essay to complete for Professor Fain, and background reading for Botany tomorrow. She never neglected the background reading that Professor Cavendish assigned. She managed to get plenty of contusions when she felt she was well prepared. She didn’t want to see what would happen if she tried to do it blind.
The first real chill was in the air, a biting wind that froze her hands and made her glad of the warming stews and soups that the kitchens were serving. She stopped by the kitchen on her way up to the room and requested a pitcher of broth and a pot of tea. Maggie took pity on her and gave her a pile of cookies (still warm from the oven!) as well. Mia thanked her warmly and took the bounty up to the room, where Sarah and Lizzy were working. “Cook sent us a snack.” Mia glanced around. “Where are Ella and Vivian? Surely they didn’t get out in that wind, Ella told me she had everything she needed.” Sarah snorted. “They went to the tea room. I think they were bored.”
Mia poured out the soup in large mugs, and gave them to her friends. She poured a mug for herself and eased down in front of the fire. “Ah.” She said as she stretched her legs out on the battered ottoman. “You won’t catch me out again. That wind cuts to the bone.” She sipped her soup.
Sarah glanced at her. “Mia, I wanted to ask you something.” Mia looked up. “Are you sure you want to go through with the party? You don’t know how much work and expense are involved in something like this. I can’t imagine Mr. Smith really knows either, or he wouldn’t have suggested it.” She shrugged. She didn’t want to contradict Sarah but surely Mr. Smith knew all about parties.
Sarah sighed. “I want you to come to meet my mother next rest day. She’s involved with all the parties my Grandfather hosts and she’ll know where to start. She’s one of the town’s premier hostesses.” Sarah mentioned the last with just a hint of pardonable pride. She was obviously fond of her mother. Mia agreed to meet Lady Anne on the next rest day.
Mia had to admit (to herself if to no one else) that she felt a momentary stab of jealousy and pain when she heard Sarah speak about her mother. Mia knew she was lucky to have been raised by Emma. It could have been much worse; she could have ended up in one of the homes. If her mother hadn’t been wanded, she could have ended up in a wandless orphanage. She tried to be very, very grateful for everything she’d been blessed with. But sometimes…she wished for what she didn’t have. It was hard not to when it was constantly in front of her.
She had similar moments of angst when speaking with Ella and Vivian: they’d been raised in their own homes with both a mother and father who loved them. Ella even had brothers and sisters, though she’d mentioned that her oldest sister had died a few years ago. She’d heard the pain in Ella’s voice when she mentioned it. It was exactly like the pain in Lizzy and Beth’s when they mentioned their parents. The twins were less likely to give Mia those pangs of regret for what she didn’t have, but they did remember their parents a little. Even that was more than Mia had.
***
Botany was interesting the next day. Professor Cavendish set the others to pruning a short wide shrub with scissors no bigger than a single joint on one of Mia’s fingers. When she asked why he laughed. “I needed to keep them busy while I showed you this and I decided that they couldn’t kill the bush with manicure scissors in the time I’d be gone.”
He padded toward greenhouse one, where some of the most dangerous plants in the college were kept. He took a perfectly ordinary key out of an inner pocket and turned the lock. “We don’t allow any magic around these plants. They mutate too quickly when exposed to it.” He returned the key to his pocket. “Right-o. Now watch out for the piranha plants over there.” he pointed to a row of red and yellow flowers with three inch fangs. “They occasionally try to take a bite out of me when I’m in here. Now I expect you read the book I gave you?” Mia nodded. “Excellent, then you’ll know what this is.” He pointed to a row of bushes that stood three feet tall, with red star shaped leaves and tiny white flowers. She eyed the plant with immediate dislike. “Deadly Desert Star.” The name said it all. The desert star’s sap was a toxin so powerful that it could kill a full-grown man (up to 180 lbs.) by touching his skin.
The professor nodded. “Yes; I suspect you’ll be glad of these.” He handed her a coverall, gloves, a mask, and tongs. While she dressed he explained her assignment. “I need you to pluck the flowers off the plant. Make sure to get every last one of them. These little buggers are quite capable of self pollinating, and both the pollen and the seeds are small enough to inhale, and deadly if you do. This has to be done twice a year, whenever the capricious thing blooms, and it follows absolutely no pattern at all.” He snorted in frustration. Mia sighed and sniffed the coverall. It might be best not to ask when it had been washed last.
“Why is the college keeping so many of these?” she asked as she buttoned the questionable coverall (mentally promising herself that she would change her uniform before heading to
her next class). Professor Cavendish smiled. “Smart girl, good question. We chop them up and stew them every third year as part of the College’s contribution to the City. They use the juice to spray on weapons that are being used to hunt down dangerous beasties like leviathans, chimeras, and drakes. Kills even those monsters. Only thing the darn plant is good for, killing things. Anyhoo, these are two and a half so you’ll get to help in the spring when we chop them up. Go ahead and start removing the flowers while I’m here, I want to make sure you’ve done it right.”
The coverall quickly became uncomfortably warm over her uniform. The gloves were thin and rubbery, and made her palms start sweating immediately, but they still felt clammy. She tied on the mask, picked up the tongs and started pulling the little flowers off one by one. The professor nodded and left after a few minutes so she must have been doing it right.
If one discounted a piranha plant slowly pulling itself closer, the detail that she was sweltering, and the fact that one false move and she could end up sick or dead, it was very relaxing to pull the flowers off. This greenhouse was darker than any of the others, allowing only partial light to filter into the room. It reminded her more of the leafy hallows of Forestreach than any place she’d been in the City. It was nice to be alone for a bit. She enjoyed the assignments from Botany for their own sake, but they also gave her a bit of quiet time. She’d never been around people much growing up, and suddenly living with five other girls (however nice) was a strain, especially when combined with her hectic schedule.
She wasn’t quite finished when the professor returned for her. “Ah well, I’ll do the rest of them, you still saved me and hour of work.” He deposited the flowers in a ceramic tank filled with liquid. “It’s acid; it’s the only safe way to dispose of the things we can’t use from the desert star.” He covered the frizzing liquid with the tight lid and washed his hands at the sink, deftly avoiding the piranha plant’s swipe at his head.
Mia ran back to the dorm, washed up and changed quickly while the others enjoyed their normal leisurely walk to Alchemy. She still felt better once she’d cleaned up a little. Having Botany first thing in the morning wasn’t an ideal situation.
She was excited about the upcoming class; she was going to make a burn prevention potion from the Western Desert area. She had found the recipe in an old book and Professor Ambrose had agreed to let her try it. She was grinning from ear to ear when they left.
Sarah tried not to laugh at Mia’s buoyant mood. “I take it that the burn prevention potion went well…?” She nodded. “Yes, though I think I know why it was up on a dusty shelf. It’s a lot easier to slather on a zinc lotion or do a reflective charm on a piece of cloth. That was an odd brew. The temperature conversion chart I did earlier in the year was the only thing that saved me. Who would have thought that when they said room temperature they meant eighty-two degrees?”
Vivian smiled in a pained sort of way. “I think my simple burn lotion will probably end up as plant food. It will not be going to the infirmary.” Sarah snorted. “If you’d pay attention you’d be fine. It’s no one’s fault but your own that you sloshed way too much elderberry cocktail into your cauldron.” Vivian frowned. “I was trying to hear what George Michael Franklin Emmis was saying about you to his seatmate, but if you don’t want to know…” Sarah wisely didn’t say a word, because she knew that Vivian was incapable of keeping anything that juicy to herself for any length of time.
Vivian waited a few seconds and continued. “Well he said..”
Chapter Ten
Mia put the final touches on her diagram of eperbulbulus, a fresh water mollusk that looked like a deformed bush. It lived in the marshes in the south bounds of the City, near the delta leading out to the ocean. It captured prey with a long sticky tongue that came out of a shell that resembled a stalk, and had what looked like bulbous growths on it in place of leaves, where the prey was actually digested. The mollusk lived on small fish, lizards, snakes, and insects; basically anything small enough to catch that was careless enough to wander into its reach. Mia was unsurprised to learn that it had few natural enemies. Who would want to eat anything that looked like that?
Tomorrow was a rest day and she wanted to make sure all of her homework was up to date, since she was going to visit Sarah’s mother at the family townhouse. Lady Anne was the hostess for the Greatlord; Sarah’s grandmother was too ill (or disinterested in playing politics) to attended to her traditional duties as hostess. The grandmother spent most of her time raising gold for and building orphanages. Sarah’s uncle, the official heir to the family fortunes was unmarried. His wife had died nearly twenty years before and he had refused to marry again. He attended to the portion of the business in town, leaving his brother to act as steward and probable heir to the estate. Lady Anne split her time between her chatelaine duties for the estate, visiting her only child at the home where she had grown up, and acting as the most sought after hostess in the City bounds. Mia was terrified of meeting her.
The next morning she and Sarah got ready and met the carriage outside the building at nine o’clock. Sarah whispered to Mia as they got in “I should have invited everyone. I think Vivian would have liked to have come.” Mia nodded, thinking that Vivian wanted to be what Lady Anne was. She had more ambition than anyone gave her credit for, but all of it was aimed at securing a husband from one of those truly old blood families. Mia supposed that Vivian couldn’t be blamed for wanting to be part of that. Mia had spent the better part of her childhood dreaming about fantastic parties and lovely ball gowns. It wasn’t anyone’s fault that now she had no clue what to with any of it.
The carriage ride took about twenty minutes, and they might have been able to walk there faster. The townhouse was located minutes away from the council building, the place where the council used to meet when the Magus called them in to session. It was a stately building in white marble with graceful pillars carved to resemble people. It was in the center of a wide green lawn, with wide marble benches and shade trees, as if perhaps the council members once sat outside under the trees to discuss the problems of the City. She could almost see two men lounging under the largest oak, and a lady sitting upright on the bench. She shook off her whimsy and finally saw the row of townhomes come into view.
Sarah’s family townhome was built in a line of similar homes, all sharing outer walls. They were six stories tall, about fifty feet wide and perhaps one hundred feet long. Each tiny patch of lawn was manicured within an inch of its life. Graceful ivy was coaxed to grow around wire frames in the shape of animals, miniature white rose bushes lined the stone walk, and raised flower beds were planted with fragrant jasmine, lavender, and what looked like miniature magnolias (none of which should have been blooming this late in the year). Either Sarah’s family had a wanded gardener (a terrible extravagance) or someone had a deft hand with growth potions.
A craggy faced old man in powdered wig and an expensive coat opened the door as they approached. “Miss Sarah. Miss Amelia. If the two of you will just follow me, Lady Anne is waiting in the west sitting room.”
The butler led them through the entryway, paneled and floored with highly polished cherry; a long, pale runner spanning the hall itself. Golden magelights lit the hall, shining from polished brass hardware installed at intervals. The butler opened a door hidden in the paneling. They were led out of the hallway and into a light-filled room. Mia looked around in awe. Two of the six walls were made of glass panels two feet by two feet squared, and had a spectacular view of purple mountains (despite the fact that there weren’t any mountains near the City).
The furnishings were placed in conversational groupings. Two wingback chairs were positioned near a chess board in front of the fireplace, a chaise lounge with a tiny table were angled for the best view of the mountains outside, and two backless chairs, a striped sofa, and a settee were grouped in the middle of the room. Lady Anne rose from the sofa and greeted her daughter with a tight hug, and her guest with a warm smile.
Mia shook her head. “Just one. What do I do?” Lady Anne laughed and sent for the refreshments.
As they sipped tea out of delicate little cups, Lady Anne questioned Mia about every aspect of the festival and former parties. Mia blushed because she hadn’t even asked what the former parties had been like. Lady Anne pulled out a book filled with heavy parchment and started jotting down notes. Mia, with an eye toward securing her mother’s permission for Sarah asked “I don’t suppose that you would care to come?”
Seventeen Stones Page 15
