Seventeen Stones (9 page)

The
headmistress frowned.  “That’s going to be a nasty shock for her.  Professor
Randle was her father.”  At Mia’s stricken look, the headmistress frowned. 
“None of that please; you did exactly what you should have done in calling Mrs.
Bennett.  There was no way you could have known or should have known that it would
be a problem.”  She turned to the Professor.  “Well, George.  Thank you for coming
to help.” she said. “Would you mind finishing up here?  I’m afraid that the
professor’s death, while not entirely unexpected, will cause a number of
problems that I’ll need to solve personally.”  She walked out of the room in
the direction of her tower. 

Professor
Cavendish glanced down at Mia.  “Are you alright?”  Mia nodded.  She’d seen a
few dead people.  The villagers always called Emma when someone died, to verify
the cause of death for the CTA (City Tithe Authority) records.  Two registered
witnesses had to confirm each death, to keep people from cheating on their
tithe requirements. 

She
was staring at the old professor’s chair.  The rest of her dorm mates had been
sent on errands.  Professor Cavendish gave Mia a slight push toward the girl’s
dorm.  “Go eat some dinner.  It’s horrible to say it, but none of this will
seem quite as bad on a full stomach.”  The fact that he was right didn’t make her
feel any better about it.

Mia
was starving by the time she got to the dorms. The enchanted plates were
already zooming by as she dodged a floating salad and slid into her seat beside
Ella.  The others were already halfway through the first course, a pale
flavorful soup with thin slices of bread toasted with soft cheese.  Mia’s bowl slid
into place just as she did.  How did the serving spell do that?  She would love
to get her hands on a copy of the original spell…it must be hideously
complicated.  She ate with appreciation and appetite, if not the transports of
delight that the meal might have invoked before Charms.

After
dinner the girls returned to their dorm.    There was a quiet murmur about what
happened to the Professor.   Vivian whispered.  “He finally turned to stone?” 
Mia rolled her eyes.  “They don’t actually turn to stone.  Emma said they
calcify…normally it is the arteries.”

“What, exactly is the
difference?”  Mia shrugged. “Chemically or practically?”

Vivian rolled her eyes.  “For
practical purposes.”

Mia shrugged.  “For practical
purposes, there isn’t much.  But it only happens to really powerful, really old
wand wielders, and only after a couple of centuries of magic.  Normal villagers
don’t often make it past the century mark.”

Vivian rolled her eyes. 
“Still doesn’t make up for ending up as a pigeon roost.” 

Homework
took precedence after dinner was over.  Mia practiced creating water by filling
all of the bath tubs up and pulling the plugs repeatedly.  Ella was filling a
cup over and over while Sarah watched intently.  After about an hour of
practice, Sarah managed to fill a cup, much to the delight of the other girls. 
“You should have taken Creation.  Professor Fain’s incredible.”  Sarah
grinned.  “I am taking Creation, with Professor Montesquieu.  But we didn’t do
anything today besides go over theory.”  Mia was glad she’d gotten Professor
Fain.    

She
was sweating and tired by the time she finished, and famished again.  She ran
down to the dining area and ordered a large snack for all the girls: a pot of
tea with cream and sugar, slices of melon, small round cookies, and a large
bowl of almonds.  After a minute’s consideration, she also ordered a pile of
dainty chicken salad sandwiches.  She munched on a couple of sandwiches as she
levitated the heavy tray back to the dorm and sat down for a bedtime snack. 
Sarah and Ella ate as much as Mia.  Vivian, Lizzy and Beth, who hadn’t been
doing magic that evening, nibbled on some of the melon slices and sipped a cup
of tea.

After
they finished, Ella and Mia divided the history books that Professor Fain had
loaned them, while the others followed their own inclinations.  Lizzy and Beth
were searching through a package of music and talking quietly.  Sarah was
reading a heavy text for one of her classes the next day.  Vivian pulled out
her sketchbook and what looked like burned pieces of wood.  She spent most of
the evening making sure strokes with the charcoal and muttering about the
position of the light and shadows. 

Vivian
was the first to claim a bathtub, closely followed by Ella, who took the second
cube.  Mia took a very quick bath and settled into the soft bed with her
curtains closed and the magelight on.  The book was fascinating, and kept her
awake long after the quiet murmurs of her dorm mates indicated that they were
sleeping.   If she was a bit sleepy the next morning, no one commented.  Then
again, the bustle of six girls getting ready for class would have covered any
yawning she might have done. 

The
book skipped the story of the origin of the City: it began with the first
written account of the City government and continued through on the firm ground
of written historical accounts, ignoring legend entirely.  The advancement of
the protective charms was of particular interest to her.  They had started out
as magical fences, but had evolved into something much more intricate.  They
used delicate calculations involving the angles of the sun, moon, and heavenly
bodies to regulate systems as complicated as a living organism.  The current
spells formed a semi-permeable membrane around settlements that allowed most
creatures to pass with nothing more than a tingle of power.  It had the
signature of certain types of creatures that were not allowed into the City
Bounds, and it formed a powerful magical charge that kept them from crossing. 
A chimera testing the protections would get a potent shock to its system if it
tried to pass the barrier.  It might even kill the beast, though wand wielders
hadn’t had much luck with using the shield to deliberately kill them.  A nightingale
would flit past without the slightest whisper of power.  It was fascinating
stuff, even though it didn’t include the exact calculations used to build the
barriers.  She’d fallen asleep before she’d gotten to the chapter on the making
of wands, but she was looking forward to reading it.            

Breakfast
was a hearty meal of omelets filled with meat and cheese, with sliced
strawberries, toast and jam, and fried potatoes on the side.  Mia grabbed a
pear out of the basket beside the door, and a small bag of roasted pecans for
later.  They didn’t starve you at the college.

Mia,
Ella, Vivian, and Sarah walked to Transfiguration.  Vivian was repeating gossip
about the professor.  “Everyone says he’s a nightmare to take class with,
especially for the girls.”  She looked at the building nervously.  Mia was
determined to reserve judgment, but Professor Marshall’s opening comments made
his position clear.  “Every year the headmistress” he spat out the word “sees fit
to place a passel of bubble-headed females in my classes.  Those with
pretensions are inevitably put in their place.”  He shot the group of girls a
nasty look.  “Turn to page three and read the chapter”.  He stomped back to his
desk, much to Mia’s relief, since the smell he was radiating wasn’t in the
least bit appealing.  

Mia
had grown up in the country, with farmers and blacksmiths who were filthy at
the end of a day’s work.  But she had never met anyone who seemed as dirty as this
man.  His clothing was rumpled and stained despite easy access to cleaning
spells all over campus.  His mostly bald head was littered with a few long,
lank hairs that dandruff continued to cling to.  Overall, he was the most
repugnant person she’d ever encountered.     

She
left the class with her skin crawling and wishing for an extremely hot bath, as
if filth was catching.  Of the thirty people in the class, three withdrew that
day.  Mia caught herself wishing that she’d been one of them. 

Her
next class, Elementary Healing, was canceled until further notice.  The
Professor was filling in for Mrs. Bennett in the infirmary while she settled
her father’s estate.  The laws concerning the transfer of property at the time
of death were famously complicated.  Mrs. Bennett would be filling out
paperwork and submitting documents for weeks. 

Mia
enjoyed the free period.  She found a comfortable bench to settle on with her
book.  The wind was coming out of the north now, with just a hint of bite in
it.  Very soon, she would need to switch from light slippers to boots.  The
chapters detailing wand making were less detailed than she had hoped. 
Apparently, each wand maker had specific techniques that they shared only with
their apprentices (almost always a wanded offspring or relative). 

The
girls met at the dorm for a hearty lunch of roasted goat and new potatoes,
asparagus, fresh crusty bread and butter.  Then she, Ella, Lizzy and Beth made
their way to the domed theater building at the main stage for music class.

Theater
was the only college course open to non-wanded students.  The City stage held
weekly entertainments and most of the performers were wandless.  Those courses
were scheduled during times when the wanded students were not in the building. 
Theater was generally held to be an area where the ‘wandless’ excelled, so
wanded girls did not enroll in the classes.

Music,
while not a magical ability, was a grace that every young wanded girl should
possess if possible.  The only acceptable substitute was art, currently a bit
out of fashion, since it was harder to enthrall a husband with your
watercolors.  The class was packed with girls, without a male in sight.

A
stern-faced woman with elaborately braided black hair and heavy brows nodded to
the girls as they entered and sat on the velvet cushioned seats in the main
auditorium.  She let the chimes die away before she began.  “Good afternoon
class.  I am Professor Petrov, head of the music department for the College. 
We’ll just be judging your standard today, so if each of you would choose a
piece of music, we can begin.”  Several of the girls played the harp on the
stage, and one screechy soprano sang. 

Lizzy
and Beth took the two pianos on the stage.  The twins exchanged a mischievous look
and began…Mia had never heard anything like it.  Their duet was a showpiece of
hundreds of hours of practice and a great deal of natural talent. The notes
flowed like water, crisp and clear, harmony and melody switching from one
instrument to the next with seamless grace.  They certainly earned the spontaneous
applause from their audience and the commendation from the teacher.  “Who was
your instructor?”  Beth dimpled.  “Master Bienni.  He doesn’t teach anymore,
but he was a friend of our grandmother’s.” 

Professor
Petrov nodded.  “I caught his final performance on the City stage when I was a
student.  He’s one of the finest pianists the City has ever produced.  I
suppose you are old blood then?”  The girls nodded.  The professor sighed. 
“Now that’s a pity.  I hate to see that much talent wasted. Next.”  The next
song was a rollicking ballad preformed by a northern girl playing some sort of
lap drum.  Under the cover of the drum beats and ear-splitting yodeling, Mia
asked Lizzy what the Professor had meant. 

“Well,
we’re old blood.” Lizzy explained patiently.  “Sometimes a wanded woman from
other backgrounds will go on the stage for a living.  Old blood ladies
never
perform in public.  The best we can do is play at private gatherings for groups
of friends and family.”  Beth whispered “And it’s really only done while you’re
young.  Older ladies never seem to participate in evening musicals.”  A dark look
from the Professor effectively ended the conversation.

Ella
sang next, and she surprised everyone with her sweet, light soprano.  Her voice
rang out through the building, filling the rafters with pure, high notes
without a hint of the trepidation that she sometimes showed in her speaking
voice.  Mia listened with open-mouthed admiration, and clapped along with
everyone else when the song was done.

Ella
smiled and blushed at the enthusiastic applause.  She sat down by her friends
and whispered while the professor scratched notes on a pad of parchment.  “We
always sang everything back home.  Mum had us singing all of our sums and
alphabet, and we had songs about our history too.  Made learning easy and you
could sing while you were doing the chores.”  The girls quieted as the next
performer played.

When
her turn came, Mia walked up to the stage and sang a love song, one that old
Geoff from the village had sung for as long as she could remember.  Her voice
was strong, in the mezzo range, but nothing spectacular.  She used a little
wooden pipe, a gift from Emma, to play the part of her lover who had been
transfigured into a bird.  She let the final notes die away.  The acoustics
from the stage were amazing.

Professor
Petrov eyed her speculatively.  “May I see the instrument?”  She fingered the
little hand-carved flute for a moment.  “That’s well made, for a wooden pipe,
but you’ll need to invest in a metal instrument if you intend to carry on with
it.”  Mia shook her head.  The metal flutes were very complicated compared with
the simple instrument she was used to.  “I’d like to try piano, since I’ve
never had the opportunity to learn.” 

The
professor warned her in a stern tone “We don’t get many complete novices, and I
can’t guarantee that you’ll be ready for the mid-winter show without a lot of
hard work.”  Mia nodded and sat down.  The rest of the class was spent watching
performances varying degrees of difficulty.  The professor told them she would
have a course of study mapped for each of them by next class, and the chimes
rang.

Mia
and Ella hurried to the other end of campus, where the stables stood in front
of a large grassy hill where the pegasus grazed.  The winged horses each wore a
specially spelled harness that kept them on the ground as long as they were
confined in the field.  They beat the chimes (barely) and stood with a large
group of students, waiting for the professor.  Mia was just digging in her bag
for her schedule to be sure she was in the right spot, when a lanky man of
twenty-three or twenty-four dashed up.  “Sorry kids.  A three headed puppy escaped
from the kennel and I lost track of time.”  He absently flicked his wand at his
clothing, erasing paw prints down his front that were eight inches in
diameter.  Mia suppressed the urge to giggle when he turned around; he still
had one large print in the middle of his back.