Master Goss leaned down and, ever so carefully, allowed a single drop from the vial to fall from the tiny bottle. The entire class watched the black drop plummet through the air, before landing on the skin just behind the cat’s head.
"I have heard that many of the other houses perform similar demonstrations," Master Goss said, keeping a careful eye on the cat. "I have even heard that the elementalists of Petrya use a human, a half-wit or other type incapable of surviving without care. Here it goes."
The cat’s back began to arch and a soft whining sound came from its throat. It clacked its jaws together, twisted its head from side to side. It stopped and rolled over twice, three times, before leaping up again, its mewling getting louder.
Suddenly it squawked. Its back arched further and further, impossibly bent, like a whipcord mid-flight, about to release pent-up energy. A keening started from its throat, a howling screech that grew louder and louder. Ella put her hands over her ears. The cat was in such terrible pain.
"Stop it!" she heard Amber cry. "Please, just stop it!"
Master Goss stood back, watching impassively. He had seen it before.
The cat’s jaws opened wide, wider, as if trying to vertically line one jaw up with the other. It twisted, screaming, screeching. Its tongue was black.
The cat’s back was arched too far now. Everyone in the class heard a massive crack, as the stray’s back eventually broke.
Ella thought it would be over now, but it wasn’t. It was horrific, yet she couldn’t look away.
A horrible rumbling sound came from the cat’s throat. In an instant the liquefied contents of its body erupted from its throat. Its eyes burst, dripping down its ruined face. Finally it stopped moving. The cat was dead.
Ella could hear Amber sobbing to herself now, and felt the bile in the back of her own throat rise. She swallowed, trying to keep it down.
"I will give you all a short recess. I expect you all back in here once you have had a chance to think about what you’ve seen."
~
ONCE more the theatre was filled with students — a sober, white-faced bunch. A few of the seats were empty, but Master Goss nodded in satisfaction. There was a tall metal stand placed beside the teacher, a set of strange objects resting on it.
Ella looked with concern at Amber. Her friend’s face was terribly pale. She had been sick again and again during the break, Ella holding her hair.
Ella reached across and gave Amber’s hand a quick squeeze. Amber gave her a brave smile in return.
Ella grew even more determined to help her friend and keep Amber away from any old man with such a streak of cruelty in him. Master Goss was evil, she had decided. What if Master Samson was as bad? Or worse?
"Now that you’ve seen that, I hope you will all give essence the proper respect it deserves," said Master Goss. "It requires less than a drop and any kind of skin contact to elicit the type of reaction you’ve just seen." He looked about the room, pausing to make his point. "Now, back to our green-hued nightlamp." He pointed at the matrix of runes he had drawn on the wallpad. "You are going to see your first enchantment."
Some excitement came back into the class, although Ella noticed many angry eyes pointed in the teacher’s direction.
The teacher again put on the silver gloves. With exaggerated care, Master Goss took an incredibly thin metal rod from its holder. He then dipped the end of the rod into the tiny vial.
"As you know, the rod is hollow, to draw up a small amount of the liquid. It is important to draw just the right amount of essence into the scrill. I find that dipping the rod and counting two short breaths gives just the right amount to aid decent rune-making and minimise waste."
A small block of polished wood rested on the stand. Ever so carefully, Master Goss withdrew the scrill and began to inscribe the rune matrix that was up on the wallpad.
As the rod moved against the wood, Ella heard a hissing sound. Smoke rose into the air as the symbols were drawn onto the surface of the block.
"The essence will write on any surface, any at all. Choosing the correct tool for the job is critical — we have scrills for inscribing on cloth, scrills for delicate work, scrills that take two hands to hold… The list goes on. Keep your face from the smoke. It won’t kill you, but it can make you quite ill."
Master Goss spoke as he worked, his hands moving deftly with sure movements. Presently he stood back, regarding his work proudly.
"Trellon, do you want to do the honours?"
"Tish-tassine," called Trellon.
The runes lit up as the nightlamp was activated, glowing brightly with a steady green light.
"And then all you need is a material such as paper or cloth placed over the runes to diffuse the light, and you have a nightlamp! A very good one, I must say."
Ella suddenly felt reckless. She was angry that Master Goss could be so cruel one moment, so proud and arrogant the next.
"There’s a flaw in the upper crest," said Ella.
"What?" Master Goss said, interrupted.