The Master Magician

Ceony twirled a strand of hair around her finger. #53. A means of escape. Emery’s glider immediately came to mind—could she use something that large on her test? She couldn’t see why not, though she had a feeling the items on this list would need to be brought to and used in the test itself, and a glider large enough to carry her would be difficult to transport, especially if she didn’t want it damaged during the trip. Unless she rode in on it . . .

Concealing confetti, she thought. A trick parlor magicians loved to purchase from Folders—paper confetti that could be thrown in the air to teleport a person a very short distance, so long as it wasn’t through a wall. She’d first encountered the spell in Belgium, when Emery had used it to circumvent Grath. Perhaps that would work.

Too bad I can’t just mirror teleport, Ceony thought. She fingered the charm necklace hidden beneath the collar of her shirt.

“Miss Twill.”

Mg. Bailey’s sharp use of her name drew Ceony from her thoughts. She lifted her head and dropped her hand from the necklace.

The Folder frowned. “Did you not bring a ledger?”

She blinked. “A ledger?”

“For notes.”

Ceony cast a glance at Bennet, who rubbed the back of his head and avoided eye contact. “Notes on this lesson?”

Mg. Bailey sighed. “Yes, Miss Twill.”

“I know the ‘Shred’ spell, Magician Bailey,” Ceony said.

“And would a review not be beneficial to your magician’s test?”

Ceony felt as though her ribs had turned into vipers and were in the midst of attacking one another. She tried to smooth her eyebrows, which had skewed significantly in response to the Folder’s questions. “I . . . no. I’m quite familiar with the spell and have used it multiple times successfully. Taking notes would be . . . redundant.”

“And what of other spells I may teach today, or tomorrow, hm?” Mg. Bailey asked, his face looking even longer. The corners of his lips drooped into his chin. “Do you feel too experienced to benefit from them?”

A blush threatened to creep into Ceony’s cheeks—or perhaps it was a flush of anger. “I mean no disrespect.”

“Answer the question.”

“Magician Bailey . . .” Bennet whispered, but if the Folder heard his name, he ignored it.

Ceony sat up as straight as her spine would allow. “If I did not feel confident in my knowledge of Folding, I would not be making the preparations for my magician’s test. No, I don’t believe I need a ledger. If by some means you teach something that Magician Thane has failed to instruct me on in his lessons, I will pay rapt attention, I assure you.”

Mg. Bailey snorted. “If Magician Thane believes he can cover every aspect of Folding in two years, he’s deluded.”

The flush made it to Ceony’s face this time. “You’ll have to take that up with the Cabinet, then, Magician Bailey,” she said, each word sticking to her teeth like saltwater taffy. “The education board is the department that deduced a person could earn their magicianship in two years. I’m sure Patrice Aviosky would love to hear your explanation as to why the department is in error.”

Mg. Bailey narrowed his eyes. A few long seconds passed before he said, “You’re dismissed, Miss Twill.”

Gladly, Ceony thought, but she dared not push her luck with more words. Rising from her chair, she smoothed her skirt and walked to the door with the paper list in hand, fighting her desire to run, stomp, and curse the bloody man’s name.

“Deluded,” she mumbled to herself. She pinched her lips together, hoping the word didn’t carry through the vast emptiness of the ridiculous house, if the man could hear anyone speak with that ego pressing against his eardrums. “No wonder this place is so empty,” she added with a scowl. “Who on earth would want to live with him?”

She fidgeted with her necklace and daydreamed of going back into the study and turning Pyre right then and there. How she would love to hurl a ball of flames right at Mg. Bailey’s head!

She found Fennel scratching at the door in her room, his rubber paw pads thumbing against the doorjamb. She picked the pup up in her arms and scratched his neck.

“Sorry, boy,” she said. “I’m sure Magician Bailey would love to de-spell you if you wandered into his line of sight.”

Fennel huffed and wagged his tail, jerking toward the window. Another butterfly rested on its pane, a brief letter from Emery hidden in its Folds. He recounted the dullness of his day and an invitation to a ball being thrown for new Tagis Praff graduates. He had likely been invited since he might soon be free to take on a new apprentice. So they both hoped, anyway, at least if the position opened for the right reason, and not because Ceony was forced to relocate and live with a female mentor. Of course, he claimed he didn’t plan to attend.

Oh, how she missed Emery. And the thought of how Mg. Bailey had insulted him, not to mention her, set her bones blazing once more. She lowered Fennel to the floor and punched her mattress. That man was trying to be impossible.

Ceony pulled free her list of items to Fold for her test and set it on the breakfast table, which was slowly transforming into a desk. It would be best if she started now. The sooner she passed her test and left the Bailey prison, the better.





CHAPTER 9