The Untangled Cassie Black

by Tammie Painter

  "The magic takes a minute to stick in an Untrained, if it does at all. With your parents…how can I explain? Their cells are already primed for the pump. They’ve known magic before and should readily accept it. Tobey," who was still making strange finger movements, "has cells that have never known magic and are more likely to reject it. So, I wanted to give him a strong hit. I also kept some of your magic for myself, and this briefly drained you."

  "You kept my magic? You drained me?" Okay, maybe my suspicion wasn’t out of place this time.

  "Only a little. If I hadn’t, with your absorbing tendencies, you would have sucked all the magic back out of Tobey before it ever had a chance to set up shop in his cells. So, yes, I held onto some of your magic. You were closer to me than Tobey, so while you were busy re-absorbing your power from me, that gave his cells some time to introduce themselves to the new magic in town. Pretty clever, right? Oh, stop looking so put out. You’re already feeling better, aren’t you?"

  I was actually. My legs felt like they were made of muscle and bone instead of elastic, and my head no longer felt like it was going to float off into the ether.

  "You could have warned me," I grumbled.

  "This isn’t exactly something we do every day around here. I didn’t know what I was going to do or how, so a little magic improv was required. Your quick recovery proves just how strong you are."

  "I could still use some cake."

  "I think we can manage that once we get inside."

  We slipped into the White Tower through the ground level door that was only open to Magics. Like seeing Winston’s change in behavior, I suddenly recalled Tobey passing through this door not long ago. On his own. As a person with no magic, he shouldn’t have been able to do that. He should have only been able to get through the door with a Magic.

  This brought on another memory of a plate of fries refilling itself when Tobey had taken the last one. The plates should have only refilled for Magics. How stupid was I not to see all these signs of something strange going on around me? Then again, I had been more occupied with doubting Alastair, finding my parents, and trying to pass magical placement exams than with fried potatoes and magic doorways.

  "But won’t I suck my power back out of him?" I asked Rafi. "Runa won’t let me near my parents because she’s worried about me absorbing the magic out of them."

  "You probably will, which makes this a handy double lesson. Tobey learns magic, you learn control over your absorbing side."

  "Why is everything a lesson with you people?"

  Tobey, walking faster than us in his eager hurry to get to some magicking, started heading straight to the practice room situated only a few doors down from Olivia’s office.

  "No, not there," Rafi said, rushing forward and grabbing Tobey’s t-shirt. Personally, I would have thrown a Binding Spell at him, but to each their own. "We don’t want the others to see. My office."

  "You have an office?" I asked, bewildered.

  "Of course I do. Did you think I worked out of one of Olivia’s desk drawers?"

  I did briefly think he might live in Olivia’s tea-lephone, but didn’t mention this as we continued down the hallway.

  From the outside, the White Tower doesn’t look all that big. Bigger than your average home, sure, but when compared to your standard medieval castle or French palace, it’s on the small side of royal residences. But once you get inside — assuming you’re part of a magic community, that is — the place is enormous. I still didn’t have a grasp on how many floors there were, but the corridors are long, the rooms uncountable, and the spiral staircases just go on and on and on. As my thigh muscles will be glad to tell you. And it seemed nearly everything (including Rafi’s office) was up, not down, at least one flight of those staircases.

  Rafi’s office was, well, to be honest, a cluttered disaster. Olivia’s workspace was open and sparse with only a modern desk and some chairs to fill the space. Her one concession to decoration were the tapestries on the walls, but I’d bet those were in place long before she ever moved in. Rafi’s work area, on the other hand, looked more like an oversized storage closet where every bit of unwanted junk had been thrown. From stacks of stationery to clumps of cast-off clothing, and mounds of magical textbooks to boxes of beetle legs (according to the labels on the sides), it made even my messy apartment look tidy.

  "It’s in a little disarray," he said, having noticed me staring at a jumble of feathers. "I just organized everything and haven’t quite found a place for it all."

  "This is organized?" asked Tobey.

  "Well, yes," replied Rafi, as if this should be obvious, as if these heaps were the model of how everyone should arrange their belongings. He lifted a pile of papers and placed it on top of another stack of crates that looked about as stable as someone who had guzzled ten shots of vodka. This cleared some space on his desk. "Sacher Torte?" he offered.

  I agreed enthusiastically and Rafi called up the decadent dessert along with a pot of tea, milk, and a large packet of the simple cookies known as digestive biscuits on his side of the pond. While Tobey took only a cup of tea, I didn’t hesitate to eat half of a large slice of the chocolate torte. After the head swoon from giving magic to Tobey, I’d been mostly feeling better, but the rich treat was just the thing to leave me buzzing with a burst of magic health.

  "So, Cassie, since you’ve done this recently, where do you think Tobey should begin?"

  "This is another lesson, isn’t it?" Rafi raised his fork to agree that indeed, it was.

  "You’re going to teach, but you’re also going to have to concentrate on controlling your magic. Tobey," he said, reaching out his hand, "give me your arm for a sec." Rafi wrapped his long fingers around Tobey’s wrist as if taking his pulse. After a few seconds he let go and said, "He’s about as full as he can get right now. We’ll see where his levels are when you’re done. That’ll show how well you’ve controlled yourself."

  I thought of my own first use of magic. My first intentional use, that is. My actual first use had been bringing back the dead, but I didn’t think reviving one of the boxes of beetles would be the best way to kick off Tobey’s magical career. Dr. Dunwiddle had set up a series of objects for me to move. I hunted around and collected a long, sleek raven feather, a discarded candy wrapper, a broken piece of pottery, and a small stone on which someone had painted a smiley face. I lined them up on the desk in front of Tobey.

  "Try to move them," I said. "Any of them."

  "How?"

  A good question, and one no one had bothered to answer when I asked it. I don’t know if that’s just the standard teaching method in MagicLand, but I wasn’t going to be that kind of teacher.

  "Hold on." I moved each object one by one, concentrating on what I was thinking, what I was imagining at each step. It didn’t help. I guess I’ll just cross Magic Teacher off my possible career list if I lose my job at Mr. Wood’s. "Look, I don’t know how to do it, it just happens."

  "Oh well, lucky you."

  "Attitude," I warned. "You do remember, I could suck that magic right back out of you." Which reminded me to throw the membrane around myself that was meant to keep my magic from seeping out. It was difficult to do while I was considering how to put Tobey through his paces, but I knew that was part of the lesson: for me to be able to control my magic without a second thought, for it to simply happen in the background as I went about my business. "So, are you going to listen?"

  "It’s hard. I feel like everything in me is buzzing right now."

  I hoped I hadn’t given him too much.

  "Can an Untrained overdose on magic?" I asked Rafi.

  He shook his head no, then said, "It would overwhelm me first. Besides, he’s more likely to reject magic than overdose on it."

  "Okay, well, I’m sure that buzzing will go away," I said doubtfully and when I looked to Rafi for confirmation he simply took a forkful of cake and popped it in his mout
h. "Um, so, I guess every object is made of atoms. Atoms barely held together. With magic, you can break an object apart and re-form it elsewhere. It happens so fast that it appears as if the object is moving as a whole, but it’s really not. So, just imagine all the little feather atoms or stone atoms moving apart and then back together a few inches over."

  "Okay," Tobey said excitedly. "This is so cool."

  He rubbed his hands together, then stared at the feather, squinting his eyes and scrunching up his face as if that would direct the magic better. "Relax," I told him. "You’re doing magic, not taking a poo."

  He shook out his shoulders, tilted his head from side to side which caused his neck to make a disturbing popping sound, took a deep breath, and stared at the feather.

  Which promptly burst apart.

  "Well, at least that shows you’ve got magic in you," said Rafi. "Cassie’s magic to be exact."

  "I just blew something up with magic!"

  "That was not the goal," I said, suddenly understanding Dr. Dunwiddle’s frustration in her efforts to teach me. "Okay, whatever you did, do that again, just maybe a bit less. Try the wrapper this time." I was scared to have him try the rock. Sending tiny fragments of stone exploding through the confined space would not be safe.

  Tobey did his stare again, but I noticed his eyes looked a little softer as he focused on the wrapper. He pursed his lips like he was going to whistle. I was about to tell him to relax again when the wrapper rose up and settled down six inches to the left. Tobey grinned as gleefully as a serial killer with a new set of knives.

  "I imagined blowing it. I mean I did the atom thing too, but I think it was the blowing thing that worked."

  I wasn’t sure if that was the right approach to the spell. I mean, if Tobey didn’t learn spells as they were meant to be performed from the very start, what were the consequences? Had I just created a monster, I wondered as Tobey pursed his lips and moved the wrapper back and forth with little puffs of air.

  I glanced to Rafi for some advice.

  "He might hyperventilate, but if it works, it works." Tobey stopped blowing and turned to Rafi. "You’ll hone your technique with time, but that’s a good start. Cassie, how’s the membrane going?"

  "Still in place, Professor."

  "Why am I so tired?" Tobey asked, his voice suddenly as groggy as mine first thing in the morning.

  "You need sugar," said Rafi. "It’s like magic fuel."

  "No, sorry, I’m sugar-free. That stuff is terrible for you."

  Rafi’s eyes went wide as if Tobey had just admitted his favorite pastime was kicking puppies.

  "For normal people," Rafi said sternly. "Not for Magics. You need it to keep yourself charged. Now eat the damn cake."

  Tobey hesitated at first, lifting a bite of Sacher Torte on his fork like a child being forced to eat Brussels sprouts. Then the fork went into his mouth and a look of pure bliss lit his face.

  For someone who has sworn off sugar, Tobey put away a lot of the stuff in a short period of time. As if making up for lost chances, he ate two large slices of torte and a third of the package of digestive biscuits. All washed down with several cups of tea that were — at a guess from how much he’d spooned in — half sugar by weight.

  Rafi then placed his hand on Tobey’s arm.

  "Magic levels only slightly depleted. You get a B+ for the day, Miss Black."

  I thanked Rafi for his help, then Tobey and I left him to work a little more on his concept of organizing.

  "Feel better?" I asked as Tobey and I headed down the hall.

  "I’d forgotten how good sugar tastes."

  "When were you planning to play the invalid act for Runa?"

  "Do we have time for a pastry?" he asked.

  Merlin’s beard, he’d gone from stringent abstainer to complete junkie in under an hour.

  "Better wait until some of the five pounds of sugar you just consumed clears your system."

  "Then I could do it now. Man, I feel amazing!" Wired on enough sugar to kill an elephant, Tobey chattered the entire way down the hall, down a flight of stairs, and over to the stairwell that led to the hospital ward. "I’ll meet you in your room once I get the notes."

  "Don’t try any magic on them. We can’t risk you blowing them up."

  "Got it," he said with a salute and bounced off like his shoes were made of trampolines.

  25 - NOTHING TO CELEBRATE

  ONCE TOBEY AND I parted ways, I wasn’t exactly sure what to do. I was full of cake and cookies, so there was no need to visit the cafe. There was Nigel, of course. Even though I’d just spent the morning with him, the walk with Tobey had left me full of ideas of what history I could quiz the ghostly warden on next. Still, it was midday, the busiest time for the Tower and I didn’t feel like enduring the stares of hundreds of tourists who would likely wonder why the tall, skinny girl was talking to herself. Befriending ghosts can be terribly inconvenient.

  I then remembered, yet again, the stupid pouch Morelli had told me to give to Runa. I figured it was as good a time as any to finally take care of that chore. Besides, dropping off the pouch would also give me a chance to see if she’d made any headway with my parents.

  Once I’d returned to my room to fetch the pouch, I made the climb up to the hospital ward. As I started down the hallway that smelled of sanitizer and disinfectant, I caught sight of Banna, sunglasses on, a small satchel over one shoulder, and umbrella in hand. She was just finishing up telling Chester something, and he bumbled off as I approached.

  "It’s wonderful news, isn’t it?" Banna asked when I reached her.

  My heart skipped a few beats. Had my parents come to their senses? Were they in there right now performing Shoving Charms and levitating their bed pans?

  "What is? Are my parents better?" I picked up my pace, eager to see them. Banna hastened along beside me.

  "Well, no," she said. Did you hear that crash? That was my hopes slamming into the tiled floor and bursting apart. "But Runa thinks she’s come up with a breakthrough."

  "What is it?"

  "She was just about to explain. She’s with them now."

  Inside their room, my parents sat propped up in their chairs, looking like creepily realistic mannequins someone had arranged for a low-budget furniture ad. But there was a brighter aspect to their eyes and their skin no longer had the dull, dry appearance of an empty corn husk.

  I paused, unsure if it was safe for me to enter the room. Olivia stood next to a beaming Runa. The doctor’s pride seemed to be spilling over onto Olivia who was sporting a broader smile than I’d ever seen on her face. Mr. Tenpenny, with Fiona at his side, was dotting an emerald green handkerchief to his eyes. As he tucked the silky cloth back into his breast pocket, he caught sight of me.

  "Come in, Cassie. Runa was just telling us what she’s discovered. It’s all right for her to be here, isn’t it?" he asked Dr. D. She said it was and I stepped forward. "Runa, you genius," Busby went on, his voice catching with emotion, "tell her, tell us."

  "I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before," she gushed. "I needed Rafi, yes, but I also needed a little extra push. This is really good news because Olivia has the idea to— Oops." Runa bit her lip and grinned like a child who’s almost spilled a naughty secret. "I’m not supposed to say anything about that. Where’s Chester? Oh yes, off to get champagne. We don’t conjure food in the hospital ward," she said in a silly voice as if reciting a rule even she found illogical. "He’s a big part of it, and not just because he’s a troll. Big. Troll. Get it?"

  Perhaps realizing her bubbly enthusiasm and stupid jokes weren’t exactly professional behavior, Dr. D took a deep breath, then spoke more calmly. Or tried to. The thrill of her discovery had built a momentum behind her words and she was soon rambling with excitement again.

  "Chester was doing his healing work and I was thinking I could use a cup of coffee. Sorry, I just can’t get used
to tea. And—"

  Just then Chester came in, carefully balancing a tray on which there were five flutes of fizzing, blonde liquid. He offered a drink to Banna, but she corrected him, saying since Runa was the reason for the celebration, she should be offered hers first.

  Chester did as he was told. Runa took her glass, then the others followed suit. Unfortunately, they were one glass short since I hadn’t been in the room when the drinks were ordered.

  "You can have mine, Mr. Cassie," Chester offered. "I don’t like it much anyway."

  "Grog more of a troll thing?" I asked as I accepted the slim glass and set Morelli’s pouch on the table next to me.

  Chester grinned in reply. "Yeah, especially me mum’s brew."

  Mr. Tenpenny toasted Runa and we each took a sip. With the chocolate taste still lingering in my mouth from the torte, the champagne tasted especially good. Not as good as beer and chocolate, but a very close second.