Rosalyn and Lily picked up on Callie’s and my friendship at once.
Not that we were subtle about it. Callie asked me to read at least one passage for her every day. For me, it was nice to have someone to talk to. Even in another world, I had no illusions that I’d suddenly become popular. I knew I’d be slow at making new friendships, if they came at all.
Now that I wasn’t the new girl, and Rosalyn and Lily perceived that friendship with me offered them no special benefits, their interactions with me turned to a mix of subtlety and snubs.
Nowhere was this more apparent than their refusal to help Callie and me with the practicals lab issue. Had Callie or I had actually found a way in without them, I wouldn’t have bothered.
Among our many attempts (speaking to professors who taught Practical Application of Magic; searching for secret entrances; paying for a fake skeleton key), we tried joining with some of Callie’s friends and their mentors, but ten minutes after the others had entered, Callie and I were still trying to pass through the door. Something kept turning us around and putting us back in the hall. In class the next day Professor Tala revealed there was a ward around the classroom that only permitted one mentor and one student who had not yet obtained their second year studies.
Each unsuccessful week, I mustered my courage to ask Rosalyn. On really good weeks, I made the request of her and Lily, while Callie watched from the other side of the room, my silent, petrified cheerleader. It became a game for the noble girls to see who had the wildest but still probable excuse.
It didn’t take long for “I have to study” and “It’s too late” to become “The sun is in the wrong position” or “It’s too cold.”
Once I asked Rosalyn while she combed her dark, wet ringlets in front of her mirror.
“Alas, no,” she said, her eyes meeting mine in the glass. “I must wash my hair.”
“You mean comb your hair, don’t you?” I made the mistake of asking.
“Why, no, Leah of Ivenbury,” Lily said much too sweetly. “Nobility of Erutania such as Rosalyn wash their hair, comb it, then wash it again.”
Lily joined Rosalyn on their shared dressing table stool, and the two began whispering and giggling. Mostly certain that dual hair washings were not some bizarre Other World custom, I kept my eye on Rosalyn until lights out. She used elements to dry her curls so not a strand was out of place, fidgeted over some needlework while Lily read their homework to her, and gossiped about letters she’d received during the day. By the time darkness cloaked the room, I was annoyed enough to tear Rosalyn’s hair out. She must have enjoyed seeing me watch her all night.
At least Paxta stayed out of it. With her title and wealth, I would have expected her to be the ringleader.
“Why do I bother asking?” I muttered as the wicked stepsisters (my secret name for Rosalyn and Lily) left one the evening. It was the last night before classes started again (Sunday, back at home), and they had been invited to a small supper in the capital. “We simply must attend,” Rosalyn explained, on her way out the door. “We've been unable this entire month due to our studies.”
“Oh please” I muttered. I never saw Rosalyn or Lily crack a book on weekends. They just didn't give two hoots about their duty to help Callie and me with the lab assignments. I mean, really? How much could one Sunday evening hurt? Once they got us started, Callie and I could take it from there. Grumbling to that effect, I was surprised to see the princess of Aurlien had actually looked up from her book. Usually her concentration rivaled a Zen master.
“Surely you've seen how they blow us off all the time,” I sputtered. “I don’t see why we can’t all pitch in. We’re all human beings; it doesn’t matter how much money or social status we have!”
“You have an odd perspective, Leah. Are all the people in Ivenbury as strange as you?” the princess replied.
“No.” I chose my next words carefully. “Even there, I’m seen as somewhat different and odd.”
“Well, I like the way you think. If you keep studying and gaining influence, you could be a revolutionary.” Paxta’s eyes shone like Callie’s usually did when I said something that delighted her. I wondered if Paxta, despite her status and extreme people skills, ever felt hemmed in by her role as future queen. I was sure Fiona had.
“You’re of a higher station than any of them. Why aren’t you nasty?” I asked without thinking.
Paxta actually laughed, warmly. Her blue gem gaze sparkled. “I am the heir to Aurlien, my Queendom,” Paxta said. “I am also the eldest of seven sisters. It has taught me the humility that some lack. But more, my mother and her mother before her taught that kindness and diplomacy fosters strong bonds — within families, across houses, and throughout kingdoms.”
I felt enthralled, and all Paxta had done was speak to me. “Could you help us?” I stammered out.
Paxta sighed. “I would like to. But I cannot. There are many inequalities I would like to end here at Valeriya, too. But Aurliens do not crush our enemies with power and wealth. That is not the way to lasting change; the power of an individual is.”
“But…” I ventured, hardly able to believe that I was contradicting a real life princess, soon-to-be queen. Maybe some magic in her eyes was making me share thoughts that I never would have voiced. “You have an influential way about you. I can't think of one person who speaks over you. I always find what you say convincing.”
“Thank you,” Paxta said with surprising seriousness. “But even if I had a natural ability to intervene and create change, I cannot fight the unfortunate’s battles for them. Where would it end?”
So she was a future queen, not a saint. And I doubted the struggles of others was as real to her as they might have been. Still, I had to respect Paxta for guarding her boundaries. It was something I'd tried to work on with several therapists before giving up and trying for some more manageable issues first.
Maybe Paxta was subtly encouraging me to a revolutionary course of action.
Such thinking and deeds weren't getting Callie and me into the lab, however. Meanwhile, the deadline crept closer.
“There must be something else we can do,” I said, sitting with Callie in the study area outside our room.
“How do you mean?”
“Neither of us have set foot inside the practicals lab since we started studying together. It’s been four weeks.”
“And the first practical test is in two weeks,” Callie murmured. “I’m sure I can be ready for the written part, but a bad practical means a failure for the whole exam.” She shook her head and squinted, as though watching a storm form on the horizon. “And I thought farmers had all the worries.”
“What do people actually do in the practicals lab?”
“They see if they can copy the demonstrations Professor Tala did in class.”
“That’s it? So if you know her lectures and demonstrations well, you should be able to pass the practical.” Through my frustration, an idea was beginning to take shape.
Callie nodded slowly. “It isn’t exact, but if you understand what went on in class, you can figure out the test.”
“Maybe we don’t need a lab, then.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, suppose we find a place to practice what Professor Tala has said? A secret place, mind,” I added quickly. Using magic outside designated areas in the tower was - officially — forbidden. While the practice was widespread, the consequences were serious for those caught, ranging from hard labor around the tower, extra homework, harder tests, and sometimes expulsion in serious cases. “We don’t have to use magic equipment. We know how to command the elements.” I didn’t add that I had yet to test drive this knowledge. “In other words, if a stick will do for a magic wand, we can use that and talk through the magic part. We wouldn’t even have to break the rules.”
“There’s mental and metaphysical work to do to make the elements cooperate, too,” Callie said. “That’s one of the reasons they have the labs in the first place.”
I blinked at the strangeness of hearing a country girl in a calico dress say a word like metaphysical. “It’s all we’ve got, though,” I said, trying not to think too hard about our imminent rule-breaking. Seeing Callie’s anxious expression made me feel a little queasy, myself. “I’ll let you know if I find a place,” I said. “If you’re in, look too. We need to do this soon.”
Callie started to smile, only for the expression to die away like a candle in a draft. “We still need to sign the lab evening book. They only put it out after the lab has been locked for the day.”
“We can’t let that stop us,” I said at last. “For now, let’s focus on what we can do and figure out this…evening book later.”
I began my search for our hiding place by going about my usual business. My next stop that evening was the Maestos library. While Valeriya had smaller libraries on every floor, the Maestos library occupied an area underground that was said to span the entire tower.
I’d first heard about the Maestos library when assigned to do a short paper for a class. Ever since, I’d come back almost every night, searching the endless book caverns for information on the elusive magic mirrors and practically unheard-of other worlds. The closest I’d gotten to the latter was a lecture on faerie rings, a type of magic that drew in hapless individuals and released them after years that felt like minutes. When I’d asked about other worlds and their possible connection to faerie rings, the professor had dismissed the topic as “beyond the scope of the class.” That, more than anything else that had happened, had made me homesick.
My as-yet fruitless searches eased that pain and helped remind me I was at Valeriya for mirrors, not elements. If I rescued Gerry, no, when I rescued him, maybe we could use Valeriya to find our way home.
The Maestos library seemed to have no organization system whatsoever, and in all the weeks I’d come, I had yet to meet the head librarian or any assistants. Sometimes when my lack of success annoyed me, I wondered if they bothered to come to work at all. On the other hand, the library wound and twisted like a vast labyrinth. They could have been here the whole time, and I’d never know.
I spent an hour or so poring over a thick tome on “exceptional magic.” Most of it described minutiae in elemental spells. Still, I held on and was rewarded with a footnote about mirror magic that led to several book titles. I wrote these down, aware that I might not find them here, even after months of searching.
The center of the Maestos library consisted of locking cubicles made of wood. Each contained a table, chair, and candlestick.
Hoping for something more out of the way, I wandered to the edge of the area I had mapped. (Paxta had recommended that I start mapping my trips through the Maestos library after I’d gotten lost before dinner and returned, shaking, to our room just after lights out.) I would add some new territory today, I decided.
I stuck close to the walls, hoping to come across some out-of-the-way closet or archive. Every so often, I stopped and leaned against the mahogany paneling, drawing shelves of books and landmarks on my map. The latter were especially important; without them, the place became a maze, and with my sense of direction, even a map might not have helped me escape. Eventually I came to a painting of a woman in white approaching a watchman in a garden. This was an especially good landmark because of its size and uniqueness.
I took my time updating the map. Everyone in Valeriya still used quill pens and ink bottles. I’d only recently gotten to where I could read a majority of my class notes. I had no desire to copy my map over or worse, lose places entirely because I had smudged them and couldn’t remember what they were.
When I looked up, the corridor of books was gone. I stood in an empty room, about the size of my bedroom in California. It was carpeted and paneled just like the Maestos library, wherever it had gone. From the thick, undisturbed dust, this place had been forgotten for a long time. It would be perfect for Callie and me!
Only…how had I gotten in? And more importantly, how was I to get out?
Biting back panic, I surveyed the room again without moving from where I stood. Apart from the paneling and carpet, the area was completely bare and empty. It was somewhat of a relief to see there were no bones on the ground. Slowly I turned around. I would be happy to feel foolish if only there were a door behind me. (It had happened before when I was first getting my bearings in the cast member tunnels of Portalis Park.)
No matter how I turned, there was no door. However, a painting hung behind me, a twin to the one on the outside. I studied it closely, suddenly certain it was the key out. The woman and the watchman. Flowers and stars. A faint sheen of moonlight on the tiny pond. What did it all mean?
I made a note about the secret room in the margin of my map. When I looked up, I was once again gazing at mahogany shelves holding ages of captured knowledge.
When I brought Callie, I would have to remember my map. Before making that note, I made sure I was halfway down the row of books. Just in case.
No matter how Callie and I prepared, my anxiety grew as the test day neared. When I was in character at Portalis, knowing it was all pretense got me through the anxiety. But for a test, I’d have to be completely myself in front of the professor and possibly curious onlookers, with only my subject knowledge to get me through. That was if my mind didn’t blank out entirely.
During our practice sessions in the secret room, Callie and I reviewed Professor Tala’s demonstrations until we could recite them verbatim. For our last study session, I got a little crazy and pretended to be Professor Tala, imitating her voice and stabbing at the class with the stick I’d been using as a wand to emphasize my point.
“I guess we’re ready,” I whispered when our laughter died down.
“We still need signatures.” Callie sighed.
I gripped my “wand” tighter. “After the test, let’s tell Professor Tala our technique. She’ll see that Rosalyn and Lily are the problem, not us.”
“I sure hope you’re right,” Callie said.
Neither of us voiced the concern we’d shared all along, that all the effort we’d put in wouldn’t work when the time came to use magic. Although there was no danger of anyone observing us in the secret room, we hadn’t been brave enough to break the rules and actually use magic during our practices.
The day of the practical, Professor Tala’s class was scheduled last. I could barely eat breakfast and couldn’t touch lunch. I drifted through my other classes, barely paying attention. Professor Tala’s various demonstrations floated through my head like songs I couldn’t stop hearing. I’d be so glad to finish this!
At last I filed into the practicals lab with a group of classmates. As I took a seat, my heart beat so loudly it surprised me that no one turned to look.
Professor Tala was already waiting. She was never late and expected the same punctuality of us. Despite her stature — she couldn’t have been 5 foot tall — she owned the room.
Mist as thick as a London fog shielded the big table at the front of the room where our professor conducted her demonstrations. So that was to be the test site. I crossed my arms to warm my suddenly cold, sweaty hands.
Meanwhile, Professor Tala perched on a stool and wrote instructions on the blackboard in her fancy looping script. When she finished, she dismounted and took in the class with her usual sweeping gaze to silence any conversations that continued from outside. Today the class was already quiet. Briefly I worried that Professor Tala would call out Callie and me for not having our signatures in the evening book.
Instead she launched right into our instructions. “Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen.” She was always very formal, and from her accent, I guessed that Other World English was not her first language. “Today, as you know, is the practical application of magic test. Students at the front of the room shall go first. There are three workstations set up behind the mist.”
Callie and I exchanged pleased nods. If the workstations were that small, today’s test couldn’t be that difficult.
Professor Tala reminded us of the importance of keeping our eyes on our own work and that our results must match what she had written.
“Are there any questions?” the tiny, yet imposing woman asked. “Then let’s begin.”
Because I sat in the middle of the room, I had some time before my test to review what Professor Tala had written.
Using only an empty cauldron, create steam and demonstrate that it is under your control, the board read. I smiled in recognition. This was a variation on the sequence I had made fun of the night before. And better yet, the foundation was a simple spell. We’d basically learned to boil water. I remembered laughing to myself as Professor Tala presented the results to the amazed class. What would they have said if I told them about stoves or microwaves?
I went over how I would achieve Professor Tala’s objectives until it was time for Callie’s and my turn.
“Good luck,” I mouthed to my roommate.
“You too,” she whispered. Then she vanished into the veil of mist.
Professor Tala’s mist had another benefit. In addition to preventing cheating, it kept me from seeing my classmates. Professor Tala herself was only an indistinct figure behind it.
I had never been on the teacher’s side of the big table. Just as I expected, there was a cauldron before me and nothing else.
To create steam, I first needed water. Elemental magic drew from the environment. I could have used Professor Tala’s mist, but the notes on the board specified not to. I would change the non-misty air around me into water, instead. The elements were so similar to one another, it only required a minor adjustment. I wouldn’t need a wand to focus. Envisioning what I wanted, I assumed the mental space that we had talked about in my classes for over a month now.
I got water all right. It splashed all over the table and onto me. Just enough landed in the cauldron to cover the bottom.
Much discussed, rarely practiced. What did I expect? Still, the burning blush spread across my cheeks.
Don’t lose focus, I urged myself. The only person who’s watching is Professor Tala.
The next step was heating the water. I would manipulate the the cauldron metal so particles rubbed against one another and created heat. Adding wind would distribute it evenly. All told, it was a slower process than watching an electric burner heat up.
At least, it was supposed to be.
As I brought wind into the equation, my cauldron metal glowed bright orange. The water yielded to steam in a brief, fierce hiss. Then the cauldron itself became a fireball. I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like the fire was drawing in the mist and using it to strengthen itself. It happened fast, too fast for me to react. Luckily Professor Tala put an end to the burning ball with a wall of ice. The table, a marble slab, emerged unharmed. The cauldron, however…
“Leah!” Callie gasped. Her side of the mist curtain had vanished, probably gobbled up by my fiery cauldron. “Are you unhurt?”
“Yes,” I said, too mortified to speak more.
“We will continue for now with two workstations,” Professor Tala announced to the class, summoning a new mist with a wave of her hand. “I need one person to fetch a new cauldron. Please try the kitchen first.” As she turned to me, I felt exactly one inch tall. “Leah,” Professor Tala said. “Please stay until the others finish. I must speak with you.”
As the students continued their test, I waited, literally on the edge of my bench. If someone had tapped me on the shoulder, I would’ve jumped.
A few minutes after the last student had left, Professor Tala seated herself across from me, using the bench from the next row’s table.
“You are new here and have not experienced my class from the beginning, so I am not going to count this test toward your grade. By now I assume you see the importance of taking this work seriously. Haphazard use of elements can be dangerous.”
“Professor Tala,” I ventured. “I see where you’re coming from. But I have taken this class very seriously.”
Professor Tala raised an eyebrow.
“Callie and I have prepared for today almost every night for two weeks. We were not able to get into the lab -”
“The evening book says otherwise,” Professor Tala interrupted. She beckoned with one hand, the fingers surprisingly long and slender for her height. A book bound in red leather appeared behind us in the air and settled on the tabletop in front of Professor Tala. She flipped through pages thick and soft like paper towels, then stopped and turned the book to me.
“Your signature and Callie’s are in the book, almost every week this month. Your mentors left notes that you were disruptive and uninterested in what they had to teach.”
Rosalyn and Lily! I summoned all the control I had learned at Portalis Park not to smash my fists down on the table.
“Now. You were saying, about you and Callie not being in the lab?”
I plowed ahead with my story anyway, hoping she would read the truth in my eyes. “The signatures must be a mistake. I’ve never seen that book the entire time I’ve been at Valeriya.”
“You are accusing your mentors of lying?”
“If they made those entries in the book, then yes,” I just managed to keep from growling.
“Very well. Then how did you know what to do for the practical?” Professor Tala said dryly.
I told her about about Callie’s and my method of practicing with notes and sticks. As I explained, the professor’s lips drew into a tight line. “Unacceptable.” From her, it was the ultimate condemnation. “If you had the same practice, you should have had the same results.”
I listened, not comprehending at first.
“How is it that Callie passed and you did not?” Professor Tala asked.
She was right. It was unbelievable. And I was ready to be done with this conversation. I needed to regroup. Maybe later I could present the situation in a way she would actually credit. “You are right, Professor. It is far-fetched. But that is how it happened. May I go?”
“Yes. I expect better things from you from here on, Leah of Ivenbury.” If I’d been a village, Professor Tala’s dark eyes would have burned me to the ground.
“I’m here for mirror magic,” I surprised myself by saying.
“You speak of mirror magic, Leah of Ivenbury. But you must walk before you can fly. Elements are walking. And mirrors, that is flying.”
My face burned. “But what about all the legends of the First People? Everyone knows those stories! So why isn’t mirror magic more studied?”
“Legends are not reality,” Professor Tala pronounced as if that solved everything. She rose from the bench and headed back for the marble demonstration table, taking the evening book with her. So much for the “open-minded” academics. I wondered if Professor Tala would believe me if I told her where I came from, surely a place more bizarre than any legend she knew. I wasn’t some strange piece of fiction! This Other World and everything in it was!
I stumbled from the classroom, still unable to believe this was happening. I had to get out of the tower! My tears were building up like storm clouds. I wanted to be alone when they hit. I hurried to a window and glanced outside. Good. There was still a little gray-blue light. I’d deal with the dark coming back. I might miss dinner, but I didn’t really care. The way I felt, I doubted I’d eat for a week.
Stone-faced, I passed countless students descending Valeriya’s many flights of stairs. High school had made me well-practiced at avoiding curious eyes.
Outside, I looked again at the long, wind-swept road that led back to Ceredwyn the Gray and Autumnstead, at the bottom of the stairs where I had seen Tolliver for the last time. It filled me with sadness and fear that when I tried to picture Gerry’s face and remember why I had come to this world, I could only see Tolliver.
Not knowing if the soldier could read, I hadn’t written to him. Well, that wasn’t the only reason. I was fairly certain Faxon or someone else could read it to him. It might have been fun to get to know him by letter (even if he had to get his dictated). But I still felt guilty about the thoughts I’d had about Tolliver, continued to have when my fear and loneliness seemed unbearable. And so, I wrote letters in my mind, pages-long, never committing a word of them to paper and ink.
I thought of writing to Faxon but just didn’t know him well enough to know what to say. I expect my motivation would have been the same for Tolliver if I hadn’t been crushing on him like a sixth-grader.
I had written to Queen Arencaster, a reservation-filled account that Valeriya was a place for elements, not mirror magic at all. Perhaps I’d been sent to the wrong place. She’d answered with a single line: Persevere.