“Are you all right?” he asked.
She cleared her throat. “Nine o’clock, then.” She’d need him to arrive early for the surprise to work. “Just come back here. I’m sure Mr. Hemsley will be busy with other things, and Magician Praff knows you’re trustworthy.”
He nodded. “I’ll be there. Promise.”
Alvie could barely sleep the night before they left for the convention, in part because she stayed up until midnight making final preparations for the prosthesis display and then for another two hours putting the final touches on Bennet’s surprise, with Mg. Praff’s direction.
She’d asked Emma to wake her early, but Alvie was up before the maid could fulfill the duty. She took a bath and picked out a reasonable skirt to wear. There was a good chance she’d meet the convention chairman and other magicians upon arriving in Oxford, and she wanted to make a good impression. She tied her red apprentice’s apron over that, then let Emma tame and pin her locks, which the maid then wrapped in a maroon headband with fabric flowers on it. It looked a little fancy, but Alvie found she didn’t mind at all.
She cleaned her glasses thoroughly, which was a tricky feat for one who couldn’t see the smudges on the lenses unless she was wearing them, and headed down to the polymery.
Though Mg. Praff had stayed up even later than she had the night before, he was already in the lab when she arrived. They’d pieced together an ankle joint in February, and he was testing it against the floor.
“Is it working?” Alvie asked.
“Yes, quite well.” Mg. Praff straightened, his back popping several times as he did. He rolled his neck. “Ah. What an exciting time to be alive. Fred will be hooking up the trailer soon. You’d best set up before Mr. Cooper comes by.”
Alvie nodded. Mg. Praff was bringing the Imagidome to the convention again, so its panels sat collected in a box in the foyer. She’d spent a lot of time with the dome pieces lately, programming new images to stun convention attendees. She pulled them out, sorting them by the tiny numbers etched on their sides. Then she began to build the dome, starting at the base. She’d be constructing it at the convention as well, and it never hurt to get a little more practice, especially when encumbered by a skirt.
An automobile horn honked nearby. Mg. Praff set the ankle model on the island counter and hurried out, likely to see how Fred and the trailer were faring. Alvie settled the last pieces of the Imagidome into place and slipped out of it to examine her work. She smiled. The next couple of days were going to be the best in her life; she could feel it.
The sun shined brightly through the plastic dome windows overhead, promising a warm spring. Alvie stretched as she stared up at them. She should get a ladder and make them transparent. This place could use a little more sky.
Though the door was cracked open, she heard a knock against it before Bennet appeared. She hadn’t seen him at all these last two weeks, even in a mirror, but she’d written him every day. She smiled at him, at his warm brown eyes and bright hair and the nice button-up shirt he wore despite the fact that he was here for physical labor.
“Morning,” she said.
“Morning.” His eyes moved from Alvie to the Imagidome and back. “Goodness, is this it? I don’t know how we’ll get it onto that trailer.”
She laughed. “It breaks apart, don’t worry.”
He circled around it, studying the pattern of hexagons. He tapped his finger on one of them. “This is what you gave me.”
“Mm-hm.”
He came to her side and took her hand. She wove her fingers through his. He ran his other hand across the scalelike texture of the Imagidome.
“It’s strange to think I’d be able to understand this if I’d become a Polymaker. Ah, there are the seams.”
“You don’t regret it, do you?”
He looked at her. “Oh no. I was a little sour about being a Folder at first, but in the end I’m glad for it. I think I’d struggle more with something like this. If nothing else, the shortage of Folders promises job security.”
He moved around the rest of the igloo, bringing Alvie with him. “Think you could build a replica?”
“Uh. Maybe.” She adjusted her glasses. “It would take a long time.” She pulled him toward the short door. “Here, go inside. I want to show you something.”
His eyes lit up with curiosity. He crouched, opened the door, and crawled inside the dome. Alvie followed after him, tripping over her skirt and nearly banging her chin on the floor as she went. Once she straightened inside, she brushed the skirt off and closed the door.
The interior was nearly dark, but not so dark that she couldn’t see Bennet or the shapes of the hexagonal tiles. “Okay. Close your eyes. Are they closed? I can’t tell.”
He chuckled. “Yes.”
She pressed her hand against the panel right above the door and said, “Image Memory: October Picnic.”
The enchanted scene bloomed to life, swallowing the tiles. She’d gone to Green Park to get a visual, though its trees were currently leafless and everything was dreary in the last weeks of winter. She’d improvised quite a bit.
“Open your eyes.”
The picture gave off plenty of light to see Bennet’s reaction. His mouth parted, and he turned slowly, taking in the scene.
It looked like they were standing in the middle of a park, on a flat space near a rolling green hill. A large black poplar tree grew near them, its triangular leaves sparkling with sunlight. The Imagidome didn’t have a floor, but around its border one could see the edges of a checkered picnic blanket, and a large woven basket sat to one side, grapes spilling out of it. In the distance, a little boy flew a red kite near a white gazebo. The sky shined a brilliant azure, but if one looked all the way up, it darkened to a rich indigo studded with stars, including the constellation Orion.
Alvie dropped her hand from the wall and took it in, walking to Bennet’s side. “Do you like it?”
“It’s amazing,” he whispered, craning to see the stars. He reached his hand up, trying to touch them. “October picnic?”
“Since I sort of snubbed it before.”
His hand dropped, and his wide-eyed gaze fell on her. “You created this, not Magician Praff?”
She nodded.
He grinned and took her hand again. “It’s wonderful. And there will be another chance for an October picnic.”
Her heart beat a little quicker. “Really?” Would he still be holding her hand and visiting her and writing her notes all the way to next October?
He studied her face. Lifted a hand and traced her hairline. “I would very much like that.”
They stood together, staring at each other for a moment. Alvie knew the look in his eyes—knew it even though no one else had ever looked at her that way. Knew it even though her thoughts wouldn’t quite process it, though her heart did, because it pounded against her breast with so much vigor that she was certain Bennet could hear it.
He let go of her hand and took the arms of her glasses in his fingers, lifting them from her nose and sliding them up to the headband in her hair. It blurred him and the colors of the picnic, but it didn’t really matter, because she closed her eyes. Lifted her chin. Bennet’s hands cupped either side of her head, and his lips pressed against hers, warm and sweet and oh.
Kissing was much better than Alvie had thought it would be, or maybe that was just true of kissing him. Bennet was close enough to her height that she didn’t need to strain. He smelled like tea and anise and some sort of aftershave that Alvie greatly enjoyed. She breathed it in and smiled against his lips. One of his hands shifted to the back of her head. Hers found his waist.
They were probably running long for a first kiss, but Alvie didn’t much care. She tilted her head to kiss him better, and he captured her bottom lip between his. She sighed in the bliss of it. Not just in the touch and the smell, but in being wanted and loved, and being very certain in what she wanted and loved.
She leaned in to him, needing to be closer. He b
roke from her for just long enough to take a breath before meeting her again, and Alvie took the opportunity to slide her fingers into his soft sunshine hair. Oh.
She could kiss him forever. She was a terrible dancer, but this sort of dance was blissful and easy. Bennet’s mouth moved against hers, and she parted her lips—
“Alvie?” Mg. Praff called from the foyer. “Are you in there?”
Bennet snapped back, and Alvie nearly fell into him. She clasped his shoulders for balance. Swallowed. “Um, yes!”
“All right. Be sure to box these panels up soon!”
“Yes, sir!”
She clung to Bennet, listening to her mentor’s footsteps move away.
Bennet laughed. “Probably for the better.”
“I disagree.” She reached for her glasses and positioned the large frames back over her eyes. Bennet was smiling in a soft sort of way that made her want to curl up against him with a good book. Maybe even Heart of Darkness.
He put a knuckle under her chin and kissed her carefully so as not to smudge her lenses. “You are one of a kind, Alvie.”
“I think you have nefarious purposes, Mr. Cooper. I certainly won’t be able to concentrate on my display now.”
He chuckled. “I wish I could see it.” He kissed her forehead. “You’ll do great.”
Alvie beamed at him, then looked up at Orion. “Bother. I should probably take this apart.”
“I’ll help you. And show you the real constellation when you return.”
She grinned at him. This time, when she exited the Imagidome, she bunched her skirt up between her knees and, miraculously, did not trip.
The trailer was a small white contraption that Fred had hooked up to the back of the automobile. It had Smelting spells etched into the bottom of it, but Alvie wasn’t clear on their purpose—whether they were intended to guarantee a smooth ride or to make the trailer easier to pull. It seemed every servant in Mg. Praff’s household bustled around that automobile and trailer, carrying this, adjusting that. Emma even polished the driver’s mirror. Bennet carried the deconstructed Imagidome up from the polymery, and Alvie had a plastic container full of various tuning tools. Fred jogged up to the trailer from the direction of the garage.
“Everything is as it should be,” he said to Mg. Praff, who wore his green Polymaker uniform.
Mg. Praff nodded as Bennet set his box in the trailer. “No harm done, then.”
Alvie asked, “What happened?”
The chauffeur shrugged. “Apparently I failed to lock the garage last night. Could swear I did, but I mustn’t have turned the key all the way.”
Mg. Praff said, “Why don’t you make sure the engine is warm for the trip? And, Mr. Cooper, thank you for the help.”
“It’s no trouble,” Bennet said. One of the footmen came up to the trailer next, carrying the display stands for the prostheses. Alvie climbed into the trailer—she really should have changed into that skirt at the last possible moment—and began organizing everything as several footmen, Bennet, and Mg. Praff brought the supplies up from the polymery. She opened each bag and box to ensure everything they needed was inside, despite having checked the inventory yesterday. She didn’t want to end up in Oxford with something critical missing.
The Imagidome took up the most space, and the prostheses themselves were wrapped in sponged plastic for cushioning, making them bulky. By the time everything was loaded, however, the trailer was still a third empty. Alvie pulled some straps across the boxes and bags to keep them all in place during the trip.
Emma appeared outside the trailer, her eyes scanning everything in it. “How exciting, Alvie! Can I help you?”
Alvie turned and nearly smacked her head on the trailer wall. “Oh no, we’re all good!” She jumped out of the trailer, her skirt billowing as she did. She brushed her hands off. “I’ll tell you all about it. What do you . . . oh, Emma. What happened to your hand?”
Emma glanced down at her right hand, which had an angry red cut across the back of it—a crescent that hugged the base of her thumb. She frowned at it. “Usual wear and tear of service, I’m afraid. It doesn’t hurt.” She glanced toward the polymery. Mr. Hemsley locked the door and began the trek up to the automobile.
Alvie gave Emma a quick hug. “I’ll bring you something from the convention.”
Mg. Praff took a deep breath. Checked his pockets. Looked about. Spied Mrs. Praff at the back door of the house. He ran up to her to give her a kiss good-bye. Mrs. Praff had continued to be wholeheartedly trusting during the newspaper scandal, and Alvie admired her for it. Fortunately, thanks to lack of further story and Mg. Praff’s very expensive lawyers, nothing more had come of the issue besides that initial publication. The Discovery Convention hadn’t banned him, either.
When Mg. Praff returned, he was breathless. “I’ve never been so nervous for a show! You’re bringing out my youth, Alvie.”
She smiled as her tutor checked the luggage straps.
Bennet, whose shirtsleeves were rolled up about his elbows in a way Alvie quite liked, put his hands on his hips. “I had best be going, then. You have the notebook?”
Alvie patted the bag hanging from her shoulder. “I’ll tell you everything that happens, and then you’ll have to make another one.”
“I hope you do.” He eyed Fred, who pointedly turned around and got into the driver’s seat.
Alvie kissed Bennet on the cheek. Then, after glancing about to make sure no one was watching, she kissed his mouth. “Study hard,” she whispered.
He took her hand and squeezed it. “I will. Be safe.”
“Yes, sir.”
He smiled and departed for the Benz just as Mg. Praff announced everything was set. Alvie climbed into the automobile. This one had glass windows and was a little wider than the other. Alvie briefly wondered how much Mg. Praff made to be able to afford two automobiles and a mansion. Would she have her own garage, once she became a Polymaker? Her own Benz? Perhaps Ford would have a new model by then, and she’d have one of those as well. Maybe she could rig something plastic in the engine . . . something that could make the vehicle run smoother but wouldn’t get too hot. She’d present it at a future Discovery Convention. What a splash she’d make if she drove the automobile right into the main hall and—
“Alvie?”
Alvie blinked, noting that Mg. Praff had climbed onto the seat beside her.
“Oh, sorry. Did you ask me something?”
He chuckled. “Just making sure you have everything you need.”
“Yes. Rechecked the trailer, too. We’re set.”
Mg. Praff slapped the back of Fred’s seat. “And we’re off!”
Butterflies filled Alvie’s stomach as the automobile started and pulled around the manor. She looked for Bennet’s Benz, but he had already departed. She pulled the new notebook out of her bag and wrote on its first page, We’re off! I’ve never been to Oxford. What an adventure!
She tucked it away. Bennet wouldn’t be able to respond while he was driving, anyway. They drove through London, past one train station, then another. Alvie marveled at how very old the buildings and bridges looked. Homes and shops grew smaller and more spaced apart as the automobile chugged west, until large stretches of green surrounded them on all sides.
Fred gripped the wheel and jerked it to the left. “Bad road,” he commented.
Mg. Praff began talking about last year’s Discovery Convention. He told Alvie what she should expect, when she would have free time, and whom she might be meeting. There was a slew of names she couldn’t remember, and the convention sounded even larger than she had imagined. Each material—plastic, paper, rubber, metal alloys, glass, and fire—had its own section, though rubber and plastic took up the most space, being newer disciplines than the others.
They talked long enough for Alvie’s backside to get sore on the seat. She glanced out at the green hills surrounding them, wishing she had some sort of camera to capture the shot. Had Bennet ever seen these hills?
>
She was about to pull out her notebook to see if he’d responded when the automobile jerked sharply to the left. Alvie hit the wall hard, pain lancing her shoulder. Mg. Praff grabbed the seat in front of him. The entire machine shook and jerked. Fred gripped the steering wheel, cursing, but managed to lead the vehicle to the side of the road, where it stopped.
“Good heavens, Fred!” exclaimed Mg. Praff. “What happened?”
“Don’t know. Thing just went wild.” He turned in his seat, and Alvie gasped at the blood trailing down his face from a gash near his hairline.
Mg. Praff yanked a handkerchief from his pocket and folded it. “Blast, Fred! Hold this to your forehead!” He pushed the cloth against the wound.
Fred obediently did so. Mg. Praff got out of the automobile. Alvie followed.
Nothing looked amiss on the vehicle—the tires were all intact. The engine sounded fine, and no smoke came off it. Even the trailer looked whole, though it must have gotten quite the shake.
“Turn it off, Fred.” Mg. Praff waved a hand.
The engine cut.
Mg. Praff lifted the hood. Heat wafted from it and stuck to Alvie’s face, but not an unusual amount. She said, “I wouldn’t touch it yet—”
Mg. Praff touched the radius rod and jerked his hand back.
“It’s still hot,” Alvie finished.
Mg. Praff sighed. “Good thing we left early. You’re familiar with this?”
“Yes, sir. Though nothing looks wrong on the surface. I’ll have to get under it when it cools down . . . if it’s even an engine problem.”
Hands on hips, Mg. Praff walked out into the road and back a ways, likely looking for potholes. He shook his head upon his return.
In the cab, Fred groaned.
“Probably hit the steering wheel,” Mg. Praff murmured, looking sidelong at the chauffeur. His gaze shifted, taking in their surroundings. They were between towns; greening land stretched out to either side of them.
Alvie’s stomach twisted.
Mg. Praff moved to the driver’s seat. “Fred, are you all right?”
“Just a little dizzy, sir.”
The Plastic Magician (A Paper Magician Novel) Page 17
