Adept

by J. P. Larson

Her tablemates hushed her, but I said, “I’m sorry. I’m a little tired. I’d like to do a little more, but perhaps I could have a little help.” And then I did a little firework off the apple tree, shooting off a portion to burst over the head table.

  Quartain gestured, and she added her own fireworks. Then Marie got involved, and I thought a few of the women from the head table as well, and at a gesture, even two of the journeywomen.

  We basically put on a simple show, letting our magic race around the room in wild colors. I did a few light spells and let them burst against objects in the room, the rafters, a few drinking cups, and the like. I wasn’t the only one, and the room became quite festive.

  But then I let the tree fade. It took a minute or so, but one by one, the other sorceresses put their magic away.

  It was Adept Balarta who began the applause. I took a little bow, and she said, “Thank you, Kia. That was lovely and, I will add, fun.”

  I looked around. “We made a mess.” The girls laughed. “I hope no one expects me to clean it up.”

  “I think a reminder that we have fun here is good for everyone,” Quartain declared. “We’ll let the light spells fade on their own.”

  “Including the one on your backside, Senior Magus?” Balarta asked.

  “What?” Quartain said, looking over her shoulder. “Who did that?” She looked at me.

  I held my hands up defensively. “I didn’t start anything. All mine hit inanimate objects. That one isn’t even my color.”

  Quartain kept trying to look at her backside. “I can’t even see it.” Marie was smirking, and Quartain spun to look at her.

  “The queen is in trouble now!” someone whispered, but loudly enough for half the room to hear. There was fresh laughter.

  Quartain waved her finger at Marie. I decided to cause a little trouble, so I made a light spell, but I did it over Quartain’s shoulder. With any luck, it would look to everyone else like Quartain was doing it.

  Marie’s eyes flicked to me, but she tossed up a shield, and I threw the light spell at her. It exploded harmlessly against the shield, but then she threw her own back, not at me, but at Quartain.

  Quartain ducked, for all the good that did her, as Marie bent the spell down and hit her in the back. Quartain assembled her own shield, and then the two of them really went at it, tossing spells back and forth like crazy, all of them harmless light spells, all of them bouncing off their very, very high-quality shields.

  It was deeply funny, and from the laughter, everyone else agreed. Even Marie was giggling, and then she yelled, “Adept Kia, help your queen!”

  Quartain’s head snapped towards me, but I held my hands up defensively again. “I’m running low.” And darn, but they both threw light spells at me. I reacted instinctively and barely got a shield up in time to intercept them, then realized I could have just let them hit me. “Hey!” I complained. “I’m serious.” Rather than firing back, I actually straightened and dispelled the shield. They both had more light spells ready, but neither of them threw them.

  “Are you all right?” Quartain asked me.

  “I’ve cast all the magic I care to cast today,” I replied. “I’m fine.”

  “Perhaps, Quartain,” Marie said, “We could call a truce.”

  “I still owe you for my backside. Twice.”

  “Nuh-uh,” Marie said. “I only got you once, and you started it.”

  “Adept Kia, how many light spells hit me?” She did a circle for me.

  “I count two,” I replied. “One against your shoulder blade, and one somewhat lower.”

  “The lower one isn’t mine,” Marie said. And then she stuck her tongue out and threw her light spell to bounce off Quartain’s shield.

  Quartain threw hers. “I thought you were calling a truce.” She turned back to me. “Kia, whose is the lower one?”

  “It’s not mine.”

  “It’s not mine, either,” Marie said.

  Quartain looked around. “Whose is it?” she asked.

  From the color, I thought I might know whose it was. Well, I had it narrowed down to two people, but one of them was being particularly quiet while holding a smile. And while I suspected her, I was pretty sure Marie knew exactly who had thrown it.

  Quartain wasn’t really upset. She could dispel the light with barely a thought. But no one was confessing, and she narrowed her eyes, looking at Marie and then me. “Is there even one there?”

  “Yes,” I said. “If you drop your shield, I can dispel it for you.”

  “I can dispel it myself,” she replied. “Drop your shield, Kia.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You don’t want me to take it down for you.”

  I sighed and dispelled my shield. She assembled a truth spell, and I held still as she threw it at me. “Seriously?”

  “Adept Kia, is there a light spell on my butt?”

  The truth spell was a doozy, and I couldn’t even refuse to answer. “Yes,” I said.

  “Whose is it?”

  “I don’t know.” That was true, and I smiled. I still had some control over my answers.

  Quartain stepped towards me, but Marie said, “There you have it, Quartain. It’s not hers, and she doesn’t know who it belongs to.”

  “She knows something,” Quartain replied.

  “It’s a color I could produce,” I offered.

  “What color?” Quartain asked.

  I tried to offer an answer that wouldn’t say more than I had, but then I blurted out, “Green.”

  She immediately spun and glared at Iladarta. But in that moment, I knew it wasn’t hers, and when Marie leaned over and whispered to Grandmama, I knew that she’d known whose it was the entire time.

  I found myself grinning.

  “Quartain,” I said. “It’s just a light spell. It’s not like someone threw a truth spell on you.”

  She didn’t even look at me but waved a finger in my direction. But her focus was on Iladarta, and she either didn’t notice what Marie was doing or had decided to let her get away with it.

  Suddenly a spell flew up from Marie’s hand, arcing up and then down to hit Quartain’s shield. The shield flashed brightly and then burst in a flash of little lights, like a swarm of fireflies bursting apart.

  And in less than a half heartbeat later, a spell flew underneath the table and then up to hit Quartain right in her chest.

  Everyone froze, and Quartain slowly looked down at the dim light radiating from the center of her chest. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, and no one else spoke until she turned to me. “Adept Kia,” she asked calmly. “Is this the same color as the one on my butt?”

  “Yes. Damned truth spell.”

  “Did you see who threw it?”

  “No, Senior Magus Quartain.”

  “It wasn’t you?”

  “No, Senior Magus.”

  “It wasn’t Iladarta, either.”

  “I believe you are correct. I also believe you let Marie drop your shield.”

  Quartain looked down at her chest. “Kia.” She gestured. “This looks suspiciously like something a Shortshadow would produce.”

  “Senior Magus Quartain,” I said. “I am entirely sure no Shortshadow produced that spell.” Grandmama, after all, was Mama’s mother. She had taken Grandfather’s name, Farmane, and prior to that had been Lysia Bluff. “But if it makes you feel better, you can hit me with a couple.” I turned around and stuck my own backside out, not quite pointed at her.

  “You are just as vexing as you’ve always been,” Quartain replied.

  “That’s probably true,” I agreed. “I’m sure if you offer amnesty, whoever tossed that spell is willing to confess. Maybe it was one of the apprentices, and she’s afraid she’ll get into trouble for using a spell without permission.”

  “Oh, please. Everyone knows this is just in fun.”

  “Oh, please,” I echoed. “Half the girls here are convinced you’re really upset.”

  “They are no
t.”

  “Raise your hand if you think Senior Magus Quartain is upset,” Marie ordered. “Consider that an order from your queen.”

  A bunch of hands went up, fewer than I expected, but perhaps my response had changed a few minds. Quartain looked around. Quartain sighed, but before she could say anything, I said, “This isn’t the first light spell snowball fight Quartain has lost.”

  “I didn’t lose the last one!” Quartain complained.

  “The truth spell doesn’t lie,” I said with a grin. “Perhaps you’d offer to let Marie cast one on you.”

  “I don’t think so,” Quartain said.

  “Quartain, I’ll trade you. You can adorn my bottom, but please remove the truth spell. I’m sure whoever has adorned you will be willing to confess.”

  “I doubt it,” Marie muttered.

  Quartain quickly tossed two spells at me, both hitting my bottom, one to either side. “Those stay until bedtime.” But then she stepped over and brushed away the truth spell. She lowered her voice. “I thought it was your grandmother.”

  I grinned at her. “Offer amnesty now,” I whispered back.

  She nodded. “Complete amnesty. I really thought I knew who it was, but Kia has said I’m wrong. Whoever did it, please stand up and take a bow.”

  “Perhaps,” I said, “You could offer to let her raise her hand, and I never said you were wrong.”

  “I thought it was your grandmother.”

  Quartain didn’t see it, but Grandmama slowly raised her hand. There was hurried whispering, but then the room grew quiet. Quartain looked around, but it was a moment before she noticed Grandmama’s hand of confession in the air. But then she turned back to look at me. I smiled sweetly.

  “Some of my students may recognize the name Lysia Farmane,” Iladarta said. “She and I wrote a book some of you have read.”

  Quartain began laughing. “No Shortshadow made the spell. Students, you have just had a lesson I hadn’t intended. An overreliance on truth spells can lead you to inaccurate conclusions. Good one, Lysia.” Grandmama inclined her head. Quartain turned back to me. “Thank you for the lovely show, Kia.”

  I took a little bow and sat back down. Lunia leaned to me. “Are you going to be stupid tomorrow?”

  “I hope not.”

  * * * *

  Fifteen minutes later found us on our way back to the residences. Lunia was seeing to Grandmama, and I found myself walking with Quartain. She looked down and removed the light from her chest, brushing a hand over it, then did the one on her butt. She tried to reach the one Marie had done, but her arm wouldn’t bend properly, and she said, “Kia, would you, please?”

  I leaned over and looked at it, then said, “I think you should ask Marie to do it.”

  “It’s just a light spell.”

  “She hit you pretty hard with it, and it’s not just in your clothing. I think your skin is glowing.”

  “So dispel it.”

  “Quartain, I really think you should ask someone else to do it, and Marie is right there.”

  She grabbed my arm and turned to me, then looked into my eyes, stepping closer. “What’s wrong? Did you overdo it?”

  “I don’t trust that I’m steady,” I said. “That’s all.”

  “You overdid it.”

  “Please drop it.”

  “Are you going to be stupid tomorrow?”

  “Have I passed out yet? I’ll be back in the classroom tomorrow, but I’m going to take a day or two from my personal studies.”

  She got Marie to dispel the glow. And later, I asked her to take care of me. Her lips tightened, but she saw to it, then quietly told Lunia to keep an eye on me.

  “Don’t I always?” Lunia asked.

  * * * *

  I actually didn’t have much I needed to do for the wedding. Quartain didn’t fight me when I told her I was going to spend as much time with my family as I could during their visit.

  I invited Grandmama to class with me. She smiled. I probably wouldn’t have invited her to the top of the tower where my classroom was, but my botany classes were in Iladarta’s greenhouse. We arrived early, and Grandmama and I walked the plants together. Then she asked, “Where’s the yellowspike?”

  “She’s giving up.”

  “Ah. I wondered. That’s unfortunate.”

  “I’ve only seen it around home,” I said in additional explanation.

  The girls began arriving. I introduced them to Grandmama. It was Cariella, the girl who had asked why I was teaching these classes, who said, “Adept Kia, we didn’t realize Lysia Farmane was your grandmother. I never would have asked you…” She trailed off.

  “My grandmother is an amazing woman,” I said. I looked around. “We all have similarities in our stories. We were all very small as little girls. Not all of us come from isolated villages far away in the mountains, but I’m not the only one. I’m not the only daughter of farmers. How many of you grew up thinking you were worthless?”

  It was tentative, but three hands went up.

  “This woman,” I said, gesturing to Grandmama, “did everything she could to teach me I wasn’t worthless. I became her hands, harvesting her plants. She was the one who taught me to pull forth my magic, and I arrived here with better control than most of you probably did, although it was some time before I learned my first spell.”

  “She didn’t teach you spells?”

  “I didn’t know any,” Lysia explained.

  “But you threw that light spell,” said Cariella. “And you wrote an important book.”

  “Iladarta taught me that spell,” Grandmama replied. “Hmm. Almost ten years ago, I think. I could stir my magic.” She lifted her hand and assembled a little magic, then swirled it around. “But that’s just raw magic. I could use it with a little plant healing, but that’s about all.”

  “But-” Cariella looked frustrated. “You wrote that book!”

  “With Iladarta.”

  “This is an important lesson, girls,” I said. “It is easy to come to assumptions about the people we meet when we’re out in the world. We’ve had ten or fifteen years of education, the best education the queen can provide us. And we’re special, very special. But out in the world, there are people like my grandmother with only the formal education available in a tiny, isolated village, but this woman knows more about the natural attributes of plants than anyone living. She can’t do what the rest of us can do, because she never had the education we’ve had. But you must not dismiss what she can teach you. All of you sit down. I want to tell you about midwives.”

  “We’re not healers.”

  “No, but I am, and the lesson applies.” I got us all settled, and I told them about Ruth and Vera, and helping with two births in one night. I finished, and then I said, “If I had acted like I was in charge, perhaps the first birth would have gone well, but I would have killed Eva’s sister.”

  I looked around. “Not all of you are going to be botanists, but several of you are. You’re going to be dealing with the farmers of Ordeen. And guess what? Those farmers may be nearly entirely uneducated. They may not know a thing beyond their own villages. But I promise you they know more about their own farms than you do. They may not know why they do something a certain way, but before you tell them you have a better way, you better be sure you really have a better way.”

  “No one knows everything,” Grandmama said. “And everyone is well-served by a little modesty.”

  “I’m not going to ask if you understand me today,” I said. “I only want you to think about it. If you want, we can talk about it again another day. But we have Lysia here, and I think we should take advantage of it. Grandmama, would you like to lead class?”

  Grandmama laughed. “I can’t teach magic.”

  “Adept Kia wouldn’t have asked you to teach if you didn’t have things to teach us,” Cariella said. “That’s what she was just talking about.”

  Grandmama nodded. “We’re in this lovely greenhouse. I presume everyone he
re can identify all the useful plants.”

  “I doubt it,” I said. “Perhaps we should tour together.”

  “We can begin with the closest plants. Rather than me telling you things you already know, let’s see what you can teach me. What is this?”

  The girls did well, but as I said, no one knew plants as well as Grandmama did. A few times she explained the useful properties of a particular plant, things the girls didn’t know. The third time that happened, one of the girls said, “I can do that with a spell.”

  “Yes, but I can’t,” Grandmama said. “Furthermore, I can make a paste and leave it with someone, and she can use it long after I’m gone.”

  “We can’t be everywhere,” I pointed out. “If you are a traveling healer or botanist, you may find yourself teaching the local midwives some of the things Grandmama is teaching us today.”

  “You have to be careful,” Grandmama added. “Some plants look very similar.”

  “Which means you need to know about any plants that could be confused for the one you’re suggesting she use, and make sure she knows the difference.”

  Together, Grandmama and I gave a good lesson. When we were done, and the girls had gone, Grandmama hugged me. “May I come tomorrow?”

  “Would you like to teach them how to actually make the things you make?”

  “I would, yes.” She released me. “Do they know who Dr. K is?”

  “No, and the queen doesn’t want that to get out quite yet.”

  * * * *

  The next day, Iladarta surprised us. She brought her advanced students to join us, saying simply, “I’m not wasting this opportunity.”

  Grandmama was fabulous. Iladarta and I stood back, side-by-side, watching her with the girls, teaching them how to extract a simple aromatic oil. It had no magical purpose, but it smelled nice, and it could even be used to flavor food. From time-to-time, we eyed each other, but it was near the end of class that Iladarta whispered to me, “I wish she’d been teaching here when I was a student.”

  “I won in the grandmother department,” I replied.

  “Yes, Kia, I believe I agree with you.”

  * * * *

  It was four days later that I had my next surprise. It was late, and I was long in bed. I woke, and someone was tickling me. And I couldn’t move, not a muscle!