The Glass Magician

She loved him.

She loved his genuineness, his honesty, his cleverness, his humor and eccentricity. She loved the way his hands moved when he Folded, and the way he pursed his lips when concentrating. She loved his kindness—at least, he was always kind to her. She imagined a great number of people felt scorned by Emery Thane, or they would if they were sharp enough to notice when he mocked them. He had a very subtle way of insulting people.

Still, she wished she hadn’t fallen for him as quickly as she had.

She took her safety bicycle—complete with enchanted tires that wouldn’t wear—into town. She had purchased it one month into her apprenticeship after growing weary of waiting for buggies and spending large chunks of her stipend on transportation. It made for a much longer ride, but the road into the city was a peaceful one, so Ceony didn’t mind. She just made sure to stay on the far side of the street, away from the narrow river running alongside it.

She found Delilah waiting outside St. Alban’s Salmon Bistro, a small, redbrick shop with chocolate-colored window molds and a worn, oval sign over the window that bore a weathered blue fish. Delilah looked like her normal, chipper self. She waved broadly as Ceony parked her bicycle.

“How are you feeling?” Ceony asked once they had been seated at a small oak table near the center of the half-filled restaurant. A few couples and a family occupied the booths to their left and right. The scent of cooking fish wafted through the air; the sound of clinking dishes percussed from the kitchen. Ceony tucked her purse under the table, near her feet.

“Oh, Ceony, wasn’t it just awful?” Delilah said as she glanced over the menu. Her eyes lingered for a moment before she set it down. “I kept waking up last night. Magician Aviosky cancelled all her appointments this morning and headed back to Dartford. She’s all wrung up, worse than usual. Says she can’t sit by while students are in danger.”

“They’re not still in danger, are they?” Ceony asked, hair follicles prickling.

Delilah shook her head. “Well, no, we’re all fine,” she said as the waiter brought their water. “The others went to a different station, is all. I don’t know more than that. But I was so embarrassed. I have a spinning head, you know. I wish I could stay calm, like you.”

Ceony laughed. “I don’t think anyone’s described me as calm before.” She paused. “I don’t know. I suppose after you see so much, the extraordinary starts to become more ordinary.”

“Have you seen so many extraordinary things?” Delilah asked, leaning forward. “Do tell! I hope they’re romantic.”

Ceony blushed. “Not entirely. And perhaps I’ll tell you when we’re alone.” She didn’t think it wise to recount her Excisioner escapades in a crowded restaurant, especially since Mg. Aviosky knew very little of what had actually happened with Lira, short of what Emery had shared with Criminal Affairs.

As for Emery . . . she’d keep that to herself.

The waiter carried a small basket of bannock to their table and took their order. Delilah requested fish and chips, and Ceony asked for crab bisque. Afterward, Delilah stuck her head into the large cloth bag she had brought with her, muttered something, and then resurfaced with a compact makeup mirror. It was a beautiful object—a silver Celtic knot was welded to the top, and a seashell-shaped clasp kept it closed.

“Extraordinary like this?” she asked.

Raising her eyebrows, Ceony accepted the mirror and opened it. Only, instead of the reflection of her face, the dark eyes of a gorilla blinked back at her.

Ceony shrieked and dropped the mirror. Delilah laughed and scooped it off the table.

“How did you do that?” Ceony asked.

“It’s a Choice Reflection spell,” she explained. “You can make the mirror reflect whatever you picture in your head.”

“With just a command,” Ceony mumbled, thinking of Delilah’s covert whispering. She studied the compact in Delilah’s hands. There were very few spells Ceony could merely dictate to a piece of paper; Folding required just that: Folds. Preparation, foresight. Manipulation with creases and cuts. Gaffing, or glass magic, was the second quickest after fire magic. Smelting, or enchanting metal alloys, was the slowest.

Ceony tapped her fingers on the table. “It’s like story illusion.”

Delilah frowned. “Um, yes? I’m not sure what that is. But you face the mirror”—Delilah opened the compact and gazed into it—“and say ‘choice reflection,’ and think of exactly what you want—or don’t want—to see.”