"Someone in HQ," I said. "If there’s a traitor here, I’d bet whoever it is has a direct line to him. Like Tobey says, the minute you decide to hand me over, the Mauvais will know."
Which, I’m going to say flat out, was not a comforting thought.
11 - SANDS THROUGH THE HOURGLASS
I SPENT THE rest of the day studying and practicing with an apprehensive Rafi. But after swearing I wouldn’t think of unicorns (which then was all I could think about), we fell into one of my best practice sessions during which the membrane flowed readily from my fingertips and I even (mostly) fought off his whip-crack fast Binding Spell.
It made me wonder if I shouldn’t have beer more often before training.
In my room that night, full of determination, I tried a Solas Charm. This is meant to generate a ball of light. Pure light that should match the color of the conjurer’s eyes and give off no heat. But with my supercharged magic powers turning even the most innocent spell into a potential weapon, my orbs had a few thermodynamic issues and they often reflected the color of my mood rather than the color of my eyes. Still, I’d had a good day of practice. So, hoping my control issues were nearly behind me, I focused on a good memory — that flickering moment of recognition from my mom — and said the word for the Solas Charm.
In the next instant, a hazel-green ball hovered at eye level about six feet from me. From where I stood, I couldn’t detect any warmth, but I wanted to be sure. I stepped closer to what looked like a near-perfect Solas orb. My movement shifted the light closer to the window.
And promptly caught my curtains on fire.
Luckily, my electric kettle had enough water in it to douse the flames before any alarms went off.
The pride in my firefighting skills fizzled out just as quickly as my curtains when I thought of Alastair. The Solas Charm, while it did take a lot of concentration when you were first learning it, wasn’t a spell that required a great deal of magical energy. The orbs the charm generated contained traces and could be used to signal your location to others when you were in trouble. But Alastair wasn’t sending us that signal. Maybe he really was dead. Maybe once Tobey had been sent away, Devin Kilbride decided to go it alone.
No. I refused to accept that. The Mauvais would have sent his body back just to taunt us.
But what was the Mauvais doing to Alastair to make him too weak to get in touch with us? Then again, you did need to wrap your head around a few happy thoughts to make an orb, and with the way I’d treated him before he fell out of the world, I doubt Alastair had many happy thoughts readily at hand.
* * *
The next morning my breakfast was accompanied by another note. I suppose given the unreliability of my phone in any magic locale, it was the most reliable way to send me messages.
Since the Magics never hesitated to bang on my door at any time of night or day to bring me important news — or news they deemed important — I figured the note couldn’t contain anything urgent. I set it aside, deciding that satisfying my hunger took priority.
Winston showed up just as I cut into my slice of bacon, and he had no qualms about devouring half of it, along with an entire triangle of toast and the full portion of blood sausage. Sorry, black pudding. Which does not make it sound any more appetizing.
Once his favorites were gone, Winston hopped on the note and began tearing at it. I really needed to talk to someone about a ghost bird’s ability to interact so destructively with objects in the physical world. But before that, I needed to yank my letter from said bird. An act that earned me a nip on the forearm from his very sharp beak.
"No more treats for you if you keep that up, mister."
I opened the note. It would seem my brief stint at deciding my own schedule was over. I was to meet Banna in the practice room downstairs. And, thanks to my delay, I was already ten minutes late. I shoveled the rest of the eggs into my mouth, then jogged down the stairs for class time.
I wasn’t looking forward to this lesson. Besides the fact that Banna loved to push me to control my magic and to find its limitations, as I now knew from my eavesdropping, she was one member of this mysterious tribunal. Any screw up would be reported to them and used against me. And, to be honest, sometimes her teaching sessions seemed utterly pointless.
I rushed into the practice room, stumbling over a throw rug just to prove haste and dim lighting do not mix. My nose prickled at the electrical scent of Banna’s magic. Then, as my eyes adjusted to the darkened room lit only by the chilly gleam of her Solas Charm, Banna announced I’d be demonstrating my control by shifting the sands of an hourglass from the lower portion to the upper portion.
See? Pointless.
Her usual sunglasses were off, revealing her glacially blue eyes that matched the color of her orb. Eyes that showed she wasn’t the least bit amused when I walked over and turned the hourglass over.
"What? Problem solved." I’m sure any professor of logic would have applauded my approach to the problem.
"This is meant to challenge you. Now, move the grains without touching the hourglass or," she added, "using a Shoving Charm to knock it over."
Damn, how did she know my next strategy?
I tried. Believe me, I tried. But moving those itty-bitty grains of sand with magic was like trying to lift a boulder with my scrawny arms. Something about their tininess made them slippery and my magic kept losing its grip on them. It probably didn’t help that I couldn’t concentrate. I kept thinking of the Mauvais. Of Alastair. Of where in the world they might be. The more these distracting thoughts paraded along, the more annoyed I got with Banna.
She was supposed to know everything. Shouldn’t she know where portals led to or how to fix my parents? But whenever I asked something non-sand related (which was everything), Banna made a tut-tut sound and pointed to the hourglass.
"You need to visualize them going upwards," she said in her lilting accent.
"No, I really don’t. I have serious doubts that my life is going to depend on wowing people with a parlor trick."
"Fine, then what do you want to learn since apparently, even though I’ve been doing this for hundreds of years, I’m clearly not qualified to provide useful instruction."
I had a headache, I was already growing hungry again, and I felt like I needed at least another hour of sleep. But, recalling how quickly Banna could Hoover magic out of me if I irked her, I forced myself to keep an even tone.
"Look, you’re a good teacher, but in case you’ve forgotten, there’s a tribunal going on that might extract me soon. I don’t exactly have time to focus on silly tricks. I need to be taught how to find a portal, or how to figure out where a portal traveled to even after it’s vanished. I need to find Alastair."
"You need to start leaving these matters to Magics who know how to handle them. Had you mastered your own power, you could have learned more advanced magic such as portals, but right now, if you want to keep the tribunal happy, you need to master the basics."
The basics? I’d faced the Mauvais twice now and survived. For better or worse, I could bring back the dead if I was around them too long. I could execute a Shoving Charm with precision and force. I could both absorb magic and give it. I hated her judging me just because I couldn’t shift some stupid sand grains or pass some stupid test — which I had indeed passed, but then Alastair kissed me and so my results were declared invalid. Then when I was tested again, I was put up against one of the originators of magic, possibly the most magic of Magics, who walloped me with everything her four-foot, eight-inch frame could muster. Which was a lot, let me tell you. In magic it would seem, size does not matter. So please don’t lecture me about the basics.
Not being a complete moron, I did not say any of this. I merely glowered at her.
Banna shot visual daggers right back. She might have been so light sensitive any exposed skin would burn even under the glow of a full moon, but she wasn’t going to cave in at t
he sight of my facial expression. Still, I had more useful things to learn, and better teachers to learn them from. I marched toward the door.
"Where are you going?" She threw a spell to latch the bolt on the door.
"I have things to do," I said, whipping my hand horizontally in the air and ripping the lock off the door — in all fairness, I’d only meant to unbolt the thing. Oops.
"We’re not done here," Banna said.
I yanked open the door, turned around and flicked my fingers upward while giving my hand a little twist at the wrist. The sands in the hourglass not only started to flow upwards, they did it in a nice tornado-style funnel. Don’t ask me why, but something about Banna’s chastisement roused in me a need and ability to prove myself to her.
"Aren’t we?" I said, feeling more than a little smug at Banna’s expression of impressed surprise.
Unfortunately, just then, the top of the hourglass burst off and sand went flying everywhere, shooting out like a geyser, and spraying Banna in a gritty haze. Okay, maybe I did need a few more lessons in controlling the volume of my magic.
I don’t know if it was Gaelic or something much older, but Banna was clearly cursing me as she spit sand from her lips and brushed grit from her face.
12 - MAKING REQUESTS
I MADE MY escape from the practice room while Banna was busy with her sandy mess. My first thought was to take cover amongst the hundreds of tourists outside. I had just reached the exit when a jumbo jet-sized desire halted me in my tracks and set my feet to marching back toward Olivia’s office. The desire was so furious even seeing Banna going into Olivia’s workspace didn’t stop me from my mission.
Both women looked surprised, and somewhat annoyed, when I walked straight in without asking or knocking. My stomach fluttered. I was afraid they’d say no, but if I turned tail and skulked out of the room, I’d look like an absolute loon. I gathered my courage and blurted, "I’d like to go home."
I didn’t think this request was out of line. I mean, I’d been in the Tower for over two weeks. I might become a magical battery for the Mauvais soon, or I might be extracted by this mysterious tribunal. I should at least get to see my cat one last time. Plus, collecting some fresh underwear would be nice.
"That’s not going to happen," replied Olivia. "You know very well that the Mauvais would love to get his hands on you. And we’re all aware of your bad habit of going after him yourself."
"Look, the Mauvais is holed up somewhere. He’s working his spells from a distance, not gallivanting around the world on his Tour of Destruction." Which I then thought was the perfect album name for a death metal band, but I supposed Olivia would find that irrelevant. "Within these very walls I’ve had magic stolen from me and a Mirage Hex put on me. Clearly, I’ve been no safer here than in Portland, so why not let me go back? I mean, what’s the point of having these international portals if not to allow students to study abroad?"
"She has a point," Banna said, showing no trace of irritation over my sandy screw-up. Rather than darken the room, she’d donned an even larger pair of sunglasses than normal, she’d fully covered her skin in gauzy fabric, and she’d conjured her umbrella to hover just over her scalp. "Besides, if we let her go home, she can damage things there instead of here. But more importantly, it would keep her away from the Starlings while they recover."
"That’s true. Runa—" And here, Olivia’s hands started fidgeting with the papers on her desk. "That is, Dr. Dunwiddle needs to see how well the initial round of transfusions stick, but she worries that Cassie’s presence might be hindering that."
"So I can go?" I asked. Inside my shoes, my toes tapped with impatient excitement.
"You can go." Yes! "But—" Of course there was a but, "—when you do, you will go with someone. Not alone." She paused, drumming her fingers as she considered who to send. I was hoping she’d say Rafi. After all, despite having nearly killed him, we got along well. "Since you’d be going to your apartment and he’s—"
"No," I said with dread, "not him."
"Do you want to go home or not?"
I sighed, my shoulders slumped, and I rolled my eyes. This was an indignity even I shouldn’t have to endure. "Yes."
"Good. I’ll send Eugene a message. He’ll be waiting for you when you’re ready."
As ever, my comings and goings were going to monitored by Morelli. My life just couldn’t seem to jump off that hamster wheel.
"I can be ready in fifteen minutes."
"No, sorry—"
"You just said I could," I said, cutting Olivia off. She couldn’t really be going back on the offer already.
"If you’d let me finish. It’s not even dawn yet in Portland. The portal stays closed at night except for urgent matters and for Sunday traffic. So gather what you need and meet Chester at the portal in," Olivia scanned a sheet on her desk, "an hour. Oh, and I believe Runa needs you to fill some more capsules before you go."
"So soon?" I’d just filled a couple dozen before holing up in my room the night before.
"Yes, those have all been emptied. Jake must have misunderstood the dosage. She needs to talk to him about it, but she’s been so busy with everything. Maybe you could remind her when you see her."
"Because Runa just loves me telling her how to do her job." Olivia gave me a look that told me to do it anyway. I was about to leave when a thought struck me. "I don’t exactly know where the portal is."
"Right, I forget, this is still only your first time in London and that you came in via the delivery portal. Just come back here in forty-five minutes and someone will show you the way." I told her I would, then turned to leave. "Oh, and Cassie," Olivia said just as I reached the door, "promise me you won’t go after the Mauvais on your own."
To be honest, if I knew where the Mauvais was, I’d already be hunting him down. But since I didn’t have a clue what corner of the world my nemesis had tucked himself into, not going after him was an easy promise to make. Still, I kept my fingers crossed when I promised her I would behave.
I threw a few items into my satchel, then wondered why I would want to go home. This was the Tower of London where English breakfasts and heaping mounds of sandwiches and sweets magically appeared, where plates kept refilling as long as you ate every last bite. My apartment had never seen a full fridge, let alone a full plate of food. I’d have to keep track of the time difference to make sure I was back to the Tower by dinner.
Even after stopping by the hospital ward, I still had time to kill. On my way back to Olivia’s office, I decided to take a quick tour through the armory, which remained closed to the public. The four gnomes stood unmoving, each concentrating with unwavering intensity on the spot where Tobey had appeared.
As I was leaving the armory, I caught sight of a head of flaming red hair and the owner of that hair hurrying down the corridor toward Olivia’s office. An unexpected smile crept up my lips and I called out, "Corrine."
She halted abruptly, almost as if she’d run into an invisible wall. I never quite knew what my magic might do, and I briefly wondered if I had somehow accidentally conjured some sort of Shield Spell. But it turned out Corrine just had quick reflexes. She stopped, turned around, then her face lit up with delight.
"Cassie!" I took several quick steps on my long legs to catch up. Then, just to make me regret my joy at seeing her, Corrine wrapped me in her arms and squeezed me into a hug. I stiffened and she backed off. "Sorry, I just— Oh, the things we’ve heard. Are your parents really back? Simon and Chloe. Did you meet them? How was it? I bet they’re so proud of you."
I’m sure if my parents had a working brain cell between them, they’d be glad I got them to safety, but I don’t know if proud is what they’d be of me. I was socially awkward, I found it impossible to trust most people, I lived in a dingy apartment, and I’d only recently been able to confidently make my rent on time. No, pride in me was probably not what they’d be experiencing.
/> "They’re still not well," is all I said. "What are you doing here?"
"Oh, I had to pop by to deliver something to the Museum of London." She held up a package that was about the size of an unabridged dictionary. "Have you met Alvin Dodding?" I said I had. "He’s such a charmer. Anyway, Eugene sent me a message saying you were coming back, but he couldn’t get away just yet so he asked if I could I come get you. Are you really coming back to Rosaria?"
Rosaria being the name of Portland’s magic community.
"Just for a visit. Apparently, they still want me here."
"And who could blame them? You’re such a delight and so hard working. Your studies must be going really well."
Delight? Me? Had someone slipped a spoonful of Delusional Drops into Corrine’s coffee?
The Untangled Cassie Black Page 8
