Seventeen Stones (17 page)

Mia
calmed down and tried the notes.  She stumbled on the first three, but Beth
didn’t flinch, so she continued.  When she stopped Beth clapped, and Mia
started.  “You’re too hard on yourself.  That was fine for someone who’s only
been playing a few weeks.  All you need right now is practice.  Spend an hour
in here and see how it goes.  If you need me I’ll be in the other practice
room.  I want to work on the third phrase of the duet Lizzy and I have been
writing.”  She walked off, humming.

Mia
stared at the piano the way some people would look at a venomous snake; she
might have preferred the snake.  She went through the piece again, faltering here
and there, and trying the fingering again and again.

She
felt like a limp rag when she left the music room an hour later.  Mia checked
the practice schedule that always hung on a clipboard on the far wall.  Beth
had practice room three booked for the next hour.  Mia opened the door
slightly, letting the music out into the hall.  The music rooms were soundproof
so that entire orchestras could practice at the same time and never disturb
each other in their private little rooms.  Beth was wrapped up in her music,
sitting at the piano trying the same musical phrase over and over, searching for
who knew what. 

Mia
closed the door to the practice room, pulled on her heavy cloak and made her
way back to the dorm.  She still had a long essay to complete for Professor
Fain, and background reading for Botany tomorrow.  She never neglected the
background reading that Professor Cavendish assigned.  She managed to get
plenty of contusions when she felt she was well prepared.  She didn’t want to
see what would happen if she tried to do it blind.   

The
first real chill was in the air, a biting wind that froze her hands and made
her glad of the warming stews and soups that the kitchens were serving.  She
stopped by the kitchen on her way up to the room and requested a pitcher of
broth and a pot of tea.  Maggie took pity on her and gave her a pile of cookies
(still warm from the oven!) as well.  Mia thanked her warmly and took the
bounty up to the room, where Sarah and Lizzy were working.  “Cook sent us a
snack.”  Mia glanced around.  “Where are Ella and Vivian?  Surely they didn’t
get out in that wind, Ella told me she had everything she needed.”  Sarah
snorted.  “They went to the tea room.  I think they were bored.” 

Mia
poured out the soup in large mugs, and gave them to her friends.  She poured a
mug for herself and eased down in front of the fire.  “Ah.”  She said as she
stretched her legs out on the battered ottoman.  “You won’t catch me out
again.  That wind cuts to the bone.”  She sipped her soup. 

Sarah
glanced at her.  “Mia, I wanted to ask you something.”  Mia looked up.  “Are
you sure you want to go through with the party?  You don’t know how much work
and expense are involved in something like this.  I can’t imagine Mr. Smith
really knows either, or he wouldn’t have suggested it.”  She shrugged.  She
didn’t want to contradict Sarah but surely Mr. Smith knew all about parties.

Sarah
sighed.  “I want you to come to meet my mother next rest day.  She’s involved
with all the parties my Grandfather hosts and she’ll know where to start. 
She’s one of the town’s premier hostesses.”  Sarah mentioned the last with just
a hint of pardonable pride.  She was obviously fond of her mother.  Mia agreed
to meet Lady Anne on the next rest day. 

Mia
had to admit (to herself if to no one else) that she felt a momentary stab of
jealousy and pain when she heard Sarah speak about her mother.  Mia knew she
was lucky to have been raised by Emma.  It could have been much worse; she
could have ended up in one of the homes.  If her mother hadn’t been wanded, she
could have ended up in a wandless orphanage.  She tried to be very, very
grateful for everything she’d been blessed with.  But sometimes…she wished for
what she didn’t have.  It was hard not to when it was constantly in front of
her. 

She
had similar moments of angst when speaking with Ella and Vivian: they’d been
raised in their own homes with both a mother and father who loved them.  Ella
even had brothers and sisters, though she’d mentioned that her oldest sister
had died a few years ago.  She’d heard the pain in Ella’s voice when she
mentioned it.  It was exactly like the pain in Lizzy and Beth’s when they
mentioned their parents.  The twins were less likely to give Mia those pangs of
regret for what she didn’t have, but they did remember their parents a little. 
Even that was more than Mia had.

***

Botany was interesting the next day.  Professor Cavendish
set the others to pruning a short wide shrub with scissors no bigger than a
single joint on one of Mia’s fingers.  When she asked why he laughed.  “I
needed to keep them busy while I showed you this and I decided that they
couldn’t kill the bush with manicure scissors in the time I’d be gone.”

He
padded toward greenhouse one, where some of the most dangerous plants in the
college were kept.  He took a perfectly ordinary key out of an inner pocket and
turned the lock.  “We don’t allow any magic around these plants.  They mutate
too quickly when exposed to it.”  He returned the key to his pocket. 
“Right-o.  Now watch out for the piranha plants over there.” he pointed to a
row of red and yellow flowers with three inch fangs.  “They occasionally try to
take a bite out of me when I’m in here.  Now I expect you read the book I gave
you?”  Mia nodded.  “Excellent, then you’ll know what this is.”  He pointed to
a row of bushes that stood three feet tall, with red star shaped leaves and
tiny white flowers.  She eyed the plant with immediate dislike.  “Deadly Desert
Star.”  The name said it all.  The desert star’s sap was a toxin so powerful
that it could kill a full-grown man (up to 180 lbs.) by touching his skin. 

The
professor nodded.  “Yes; I suspect you’ll be glad of these.”  He handed her a coverall,
gloves, a mask, and tongs.  While she dressed he explained her assignment.  “I
need you to pluck the flowers off the plant.  Make sure to get every last one
of them.  These little buggers are quite capable of self pollinating, and both
the pollen and the seeds are small enough to inhale, and deadly if you do. 
This has to be done twice a year, whenever the capricious thing blooms, and it
follows absolutely no pattern at all.”  He snorted in frustration.  Mia sighed
and sniffed the coverall.  It might be best not to ask when it had been washed
last.

“Why
is the college keeping so many of these?” she asked as she buttoned the
questionable coverall (mentally promising herself that she would change her
uniform before heading to her next class).  Professor Cavendish smiled.  “Smart
girl, good question.  We chop them up and stew them every third year as part of
the College’s contribution to the City.  They use the juice to spray on weapons
that are being used to hunt down dangerous beasties like leviathans, chimeras,
and drakes.  Kills even those monsters.  Only thing the darn plant is good for,
killing things.  Anyhoo, these are two and a half so you’ll get to help in the
spring when we chop them up.  Go ahead and start removing the flowers while I’m
here, I want to make sure you’ve done it right.” 

The
coverall quickly became uncomfortably warm over her uniform.  The gloves were
thin and rubbery, and made her palms start sweating immediately, but they still
felt clammy.  She tied on the mask, picked up the tongs and started pulling the
little flowers off one by one.  The professor nodded and left after a few
minutes so she must have been doing it right.

If
one discounted a piranha plant slowly pulling itself closer, the detail that
she was sweltering, and the fact that one false move and she could end up sick
or dead, it was very relaxing to pull the flowers off.  This greenhouse was
darker than any of the others, allowing only partial light to filter into the
room.  It reminded her more of the leafy hallows of Forestreach than any place
she’d been in the City.  It was nice to be alone for a bit.  She enjoyed the
assignments from Botany for their own sake, but they also gave her a bit of
quiet time.  She’d never been around people much growing up, and suddenly
living with five other girls (however nice) was a strain, especially when
combined with her hectic schedule. 

She
wasn’t quite finished when the professor returned for her.  “Ah well, I’ll do
the rest of them, you still saved me and hour of work.”  He deposited the
flowers in a ceramic tank filled with liquid.  “It’s acid; it’s the only safe
way to dispose of the things we can’t use from the desert star.”  He covered
the frizzing liquid with the tight lid and washed his hands at the sink, deftly
avoiding the piranha plant’s swipe at his head.

Mia
ran back to the dorm, washed up and changed quickly while the others enjoyed
their normal leisurely walk to Alchemy.  She still felt better once she’d
cleaned up a little.  Having Botany first thing in the morning wasn’t an ideal
situation.

She
was excited about the upcoming class; she was going to make a burn prevention
potion from the Western Desert area.  She had found the recipe in an old book
and Professor Ambrose had agreed to let her try it.  She was grinning from ear
to ear when they left. 

Sarah
tried not to laugh at Mia’s buoyant mood.  “I take it that the burn prevention
potion went well…?”  She nodded.  “Yes, though I think I know why it was up on
a dusty shelf.  It’s a lot easier to slather on a zinc lotion or do a
reflective charm on a piece of cloth.  That was an odd brew.  The temperature
conversion chart I did earlier in the year was the only thing that saved me. 
Who would have thought that when they said room temperature they meant
eighty-two degrees?” 

Vivian
smiled in a pained sort of way.  “I think my simple burn lotion will probably
end up as plant food.  It
will not
be going to the infirmary.”  Sarah
snorted.  “If you’d pay attention you’d be fine.  It’s no one’s fault but your
own that you sloshed way too much elderberry cocktail into your cauldron.”  Vivian
frowned.  “I was trying to hear what George Michael Franklin Emmis was saying
about you to his seatmate, but if you don’t want to know…”  Sarah wisely didn’t
say a word, because she knew that Vivian was incapable of keeping anything that
juicy to herself for any length of time. 

Vivian
waited a few seconds and continued.  “Well he said..”

Mia
put the final touches on her diagram of eperbulbulus, a fresh water mollusk that
looked like a deformed bush.  It lived in the marshes in the south bounds of
the City, near the delta leading out to the ocean.  It captured prey with a
long sticky tongue that came out of a shell that resembled a stalk, and had
what looked like bulbous growths on it in place of leaves, where the prey was
actually digested.  The mollusk lived on small fish, lizards, snakes, and
insects; basically anything small enough to catch that was careless enough to
wander into its reach.  Mia was unsurprised to learn that it had few natural
enemies.  Who would want to eat anything that looked like that?

Tomorrow
was a rest day and she wanted to make sure all of her homework was up to date,
since she was going to visit Sarah’s mother at the family townhouse.  Lady Anne
was the hostess for the Greatlord; Sarah’s grandmother was too ill (or
disinterested in playing politics) to attended to her traditional duties as
hostess.  The grandmother spent most of her time raising gold for and building
orphanages.  Sarah’s uncle, the official heir to the family fortunes was
unmarried.  His wife had died nearly twenty years before and he had refused to
marry again.  He attended to the portion of the business in town, leaving his
brother to act as steward and probable heir to the estate.  Lady Anne split her
time between her chatelaine duties for the estate, visiting her only child at
the home where she had grown up, and acting as the most sought after hostess in
the City bounds.  Mia was terrified of meeting her.

The
next morning she and Sarah got ready and met the carriage outside the building
at nine o’clock.  Sarah whispered to Mia as they got in “I should have invited
everyone.  I think Vivian would have liked to have come.”  Mia nodded, thinking
that Vivian
wanted
to be what Lady Anne was.  She had more ambition than
anyone gave her credit for, but all of it was aimed at securing a husband from
one of those truly old blood families.  Mia supposed that Vivian couldn’t be
blamed for wanting to be part of that.  Mia had spent the better part of her
childhood dreaming about fantastic parties and lovely ball gowns.  It wasn’t
anyone’s fault that now she had no clue what to with any of it.

The
carriage ride took about twenty minutes, and they might have been able to walk
there faster.  The townhouse was located minutes away from the council
building, the place where the council used to meet when the Magus called them
in to session.  It was a stately building in white marble with graceful pillars
carved to resemble people.  It was in the center of a wide green lawn, with
wide marble benches and shade trees, as if perhaps the council members once sat
outside under the trees to discuss the problems of the City.  She could almost
see two men lounging under the largest oak, and a lady sitting upright on the
bench.  She shook off her whimsy and finally saw the row of townhomes come into
view.   

Sarah’s
family townhome was built in a line of similar homes, all sharing outer walls. 
They were six stories tall, about fifty feet wide and perhaps one hundred feet
long.  Each tiny patch of lawn was manicured within an inch of its life. Graceful
ivy was coaxed to grow around wire frames in the shape of animals, miniature
white rose bushes lined the stone walk, and raised flower beds were planted
with fragrant jasmine, lavender, and what looked like miniature magnolias (none
of which should have been blooming this late in the year).  Either Sarah’s
family had a wanded gardener (a terrible extravagance) or someone had a deft
hand with growth potions.     

A
craggy faced old man in powdered wig and an expensive coat opened the door as
they approached.  “Miss Sarah.  Miss Amelia.  If the two of you will just
follow me, Lady Anne is waiting in the west sitting room.”

The
butler led them through the entryway, paneled and floored with highly polished
cherry; a long, pale runner spanning the hall itself.  Golden magelights lit
the hall, shining from polished brass hardware installed at intervals.  The
butler opened a door hidden in the paneling.  They were led out of the hallway
and into a light-filled room.  Mia looked around in awe.  Two of the six walls
were made of glass panels two feet by two feet squared, and had a spectacular
view of purple mountains (despite the fact that there weren’t any mountains
near the City).

The
furnishings were placed in conversational groupings.  Two wingback chairs were
positioned near a chess board in front of the fireplace, a chaise lounge with a
tiny table were angled for the best view of the mountains outside, and two
backless chairs, a striped sofa, and a settee were grouped in the middle of the
room.  Lady Anne rose from the sofa and greeted her daughter with a tight hug,
and her guest with a warm smile.

“Sarah”
the lady breathed as she touched her daughter’s face and kissed the top of her
silky hair.  Sarah hugged her mother again.  “Mother, may I introduce one of my
dorm mates, Miss Amelia Rusticov?”  Mia felt a little out of place with such a
formal introduction.  Lady Anne gave her daughter a mildly chiding look. 
“Sarah, you’ve made her uncomfortable.  Now Mia, I
can
call you Mia?  I
know Sarah and the other girls do…”  Mia nodded and worked up a small smile. 
The lady returned it graciously.  “I’ll just ring for the tea tray and we can
get to work.  You must have all kinds of questions.” 

Mia shook her head.  “Just one. 
What do I do?”  Lady Anne laughed and sent for the refreshments. 

As
they sipped tea out of delicate little cups, Lady Anne questioned Mia about
every aspect of the festival and former parties.  Mia blushed because she
hadn’t even asked what the former parties had been like.  Lady Anne pulled out
a book filled with heavy parchment and started jotting down notes.  Mia, with
an eye toward securing her mother’s permission for Sarah asked “I don’t suppose
that you would care to come?”    

Lady
Anne studied Mia for a moment and then looked at her daughter’s hopeful face. 
“As a matter of fact, for the first time since my marriage I am free to do what
I like for mid-winter.”  She looked at Sarah.  “Your grandfather has asked his
sister, Lady Bernice to come and live in his household, since she was just
widowed and her husband was rather…lax when it came to finances.  Lady Bernice
has taken up most of the duties on the estate that I’ve been juggling since
your father and I married.  I’m grateful, because my schedule here in the City
has become more strenuous over the past year and a half.  I was thinking about
giving a party here at the townhouse for those who had to remain in the City,
but if you need the aid of an experienced hostess, I’d be happy to help.” 

Sarah’s
face glowed and Mia gave a subdued exclamation.  “Please!  I can’t tell you how
much I’d love for Sarah to be able to come.”  Lady Anne smiled indulgently and
directed her next comment to Sarah.  “It’s going to be a lot of hard work.  I
think if you girls will help we can get it together in two months…though you
know that I normally start planning a year in advance.  But it’s not for
nothing that I have contacts in every corner of the City bounds.”  The
anticipation of the upcoming challenge gleamed from the Lady’s eyes.  It made
Mia feel a little better about the lady’s offer to help with the party. 

Sarah
ran up and hugged her mother, and Mia experienced another little pang of jealousy. 
Emma was wonderful, but she had always known that Emma wasn’t her mother.  Lady
Anne looked at her daughter’s smiling face and snuggled her only child next to
her on the sofa.  She turned to Mia.  “What did you have in mind?”

Lady
Anne searched through the fat stack of notes to remind herself of some point or
another.  “So we know there are three local Greatlords and their families, though
we don’t know how many members each might bring: and we have some idea of the
wanded population, but don’t have exact numbers.  That’s fine; all we need for
now is a rough estimate.  Greatlord Chilton’s estate is four hours away…we’ll
send him an invitation, but I wouldn’t expect him to come.  His wife’s gone
stone-mad with age, and he normally attends the Magus’ mid-winter celebration
to stay away from her.  It’s just as well.  He’s going around the bend a bit
himself.  Hopefully he’ll resign his post as Council Representative for the
College before he goes completely deranged.  Now, what size ballroom do you
have in the manor?”  Mia’s head was reeling; she’d been able to answer about one
in five questions that Lady Anne posed, and she could tell the lady was getting
a little discouraged.

“I
hope you don’t mind Mia, but I think it would be good if we went to your estate
next rest day to look at it in person.”  Mia nodded; maybe Lady Anne would find
her answers then.  Lady Anne put down her note book.  “On to the next matter. 
Have you any idea what you’re going to wear?”  Mia mentioned the emerald silk
gown.  Lady Anne lifted her pale eyebrows.  “Dear, you can’t wear a dark color
like that before you graduate the college.  Girls your age wear pale colors
like...” she pulled out her wand and summoned a pale blush gown from Sarah’s
wardrobe.  “Like this.  You see how wide the skirt is?  The layers of tulle and
satin?  It’s supposed to make a young girl look like a blooming flower:  if
she’s not slim the way the two of you are, it makes her look like a pink cabbage,
but you’re lucky, you’ll be able to wear something like this and look nice in
it.”  The gown was lovely, with tiny little puff sleeves over a stiff bodice,
and yards and yards of silk tulle in the skirt.  The blush color would suit
Sarah’s pale coloring.  Mia would look like a corpse in it.

“Are
you sure we have to wear something like that?” she asked thinking of the
striking color of her own gown.  Lady Anne nodded.  “Absolutely.  If you break
the unwritten rules about the way young girls should behave, the old tabbies
will never forgive you.  Trust me, you can be as rich and beautiful as you
like, but if you insult the old dames, you won’t be marrying an old blood
boy.”  Mia looked down, not sure she cared about offending the old tabbies,
whoever they might be.  “It doesn’t
have
to be pink does it?” 

Lady
Anne ordered lunch and sent a note to her own dressmaker.  “Madam Reece isn’t
cheap, but she’s the best.  She’ll make something that suits you and is still
acceptable.”  Madam walked in after lunch with a young girl and two large
trunks floating behind her.

The
premier dressmaker in the City was a neat little woman in her mid-fifties.  Her
hair was mostly silver, with hints of dark brown around the ears.  She was a
comfortable size (partially due to her love of truffles) and had a decidedly
motherly air.  The young girl behind her was one of her multitude of great-nieces. 
Madam Reece employed a huge number of seamstresses.  It was a fine position for
a wandless girl to take, as long as she married and left the City before she
became infertile.  Madam herself had no children, she had tarried too long in
the City as a girl.

Lady
Anne had a high opinion of Madam Reece, and with good reason.  A Lady in town
was only as good as her wardrobe.  Lady Anne had been the arbitrator of fashion
these past ten years and more, ever since she’d met the little dressmaker.  The
current mode for ladies of good family and finances (clean, elegant lines and
neutral colors) was entirely their doing.           

“Oh,
I wouldn’t think that pink would be so bad on you, but you’d need a pale, clear
pink like this, not a blush like Miss Sarah wears.  The two of you have totally
different coloring.”  Madam Reece handed her a small square of pale pink silk. 
Mia looked at it.  That wasn’t nearly as bad as the blush.  “Yes, I think the
pink silk for a morning gown, or perhaps a tea frock.  And here are samples of
velvet for the riding habit, I think the navy blue would work nicely.  
Thankfully, society only requires those pale colors for afternoon and evening
wear.”  Mia kept her face smooth as she ordered dresses without even
knowing
the price, much less haggling a sharp deal the way Emma had done for her school
uniforms.  She tried not to wince as she thought about how much this was going
to cost the estate.    

Madam
held up sketches of morning gowns, tea gowns, walking dresses, riding habits,
and finally, ball gowns.  They were fuller than Lady Anne’s famous mermaid
trains and tailored suits.  These dresses moved with the wearer, using yards of
fabric to soften a young girl’s too-thin frame.  She showed fabric samples with
each gown, velvet, muslin, cottons, lamb’s wool, and wool plush that was as
soft as the velvet.  Trims and decorations were discussed and chosen, beads,
lace, and even some leather and fur. 

Madam
Reece and Lady Anne insisted on pale clear colors for the gowns, darker colors
for the riding habits, and simple lines and decorations on the gowns
themselves.  Suits like her school uniform were debated and bought, in plum,
navy, and dark grey, with skirts and jackets and black shirtwaists.  These
suits were most suitable for traveling by carriage, shopping, or walking in a
village or town.