The Paper Magician

CEONY, WITH PIP’S DARING Escape tucked under her arm, picked up a few snowflakes herself until Jonto showed up at the door. Still somewhat unnerved by a live skeleton, regardless of its docile (and papyric) constitution, Ceony excused herself. She stowed one of the smallest snowflakes into her skirt pocket to take with her. For studying.

Mg. Thane had already vanished into his bedroom, so Ceony vanished into hers as well. She set the book and her hat on the table, then hefted her suitcase onto the bed beside the beige capeline hat she had brought with her.

The latches on the suitcase opened with two clicks. Her green student’s apron lay on top, a last-minute packing decision, just in case she needed it. She set it aside and pulled out her blouses and skirts, shaking each in an attempt to unwrinkle the fabric. Fortunately the paper magician had remembered hangers in the closet; Ceony took her time hanging up each item of clothing.

She paused on the last skirt, her thoughts shifting from where on earth she would stow her under-things and pistol to the revelation about her scholarship. Fifteen thousand pounds. Where would she be today, if not for that money? Scrubbing some aristocrat’s floor, hoping she had saved enough to enroll in cooking classes?

And why had Mg. Thane given the money to her in the first place? She had never met him before today—she would have remembered. The scholarship had no title, no recurrences. Ceony couldn’t believe she had merely been filtered through and selected due to good grades for a one-time donation, as he seemed to imply.

Had she?

What sort of man was Magician Emery Thane, to donate such a large sum to a complete stranger, and one he didn’t even request for apprenticeship?

As Ceony returned to her suitcase, she began to wonder just how much a magician made. It must be a grand sum, unless Mg. Thane hoarded money the way he seemed to hoard all the other knickknacks in the house. Ceony hoped for the grand sum. She would feel terribly guilty otherwise. Perhaps it would be better not to pry, but he couldn’t stop her from thinking on it.

For now, though, she’d put it aside and focus on the task at hand. She reached into her suitcase, filled now with her makeup, barrettes, journal, and a library card that would do her no good here, so far away from any library she knew, when again her thoughts took a turn. Her hand went to the turquoise dog collar wedged in the corner beneath her under-things. She held it up, running a thumb over its frayed ends, worn from too much chewing. She had taken Bizzy’s tag off yesterday and given it to her mother, who now looked after the Jack Russell terrier in Ceony’s stead.

Ceony sighed. That dog had been her dearest friend through the last few years, especially at the Tagis Praff School for the Magically Inclined. One couldn’t make much in the way of friends at that school if they wanted to graduate in the designated year. There was simply too much work to do. But Bizzy didn’t have homework, and she had always waited eagerly by the dorm-room door for Ceony to return after classes every day. That made her the best kind of friend.

“You have a dog? Or a very large cat?”

Ceony’s heart skipped a beat and she whirled around, slamming her suitcase shut to hide her under-things and gun. Mg. Thane stood in the doorway, not yet breaching the threshold into her bedroom, holding a rather large stack of books. She should have closed that door.

Ceony clasped the collar. “Had one. He lived with me at the school, but Magician Aviosky told me I couldn’t bring him here. Because of your allergies.”

Mg. Thane nodded slowly, his bright eyes thoughtful. “I never was good around animals, even as a boy,” he said in agreement. “I preferred bees.”

“Bees?” Ceony asked.

He looked at her as though the preference was entirely normal and she was strange for questioning it. And, as he seemed wont to do, he didn’t respond more than that.

“May I come in?” he asked.

Ceony nodded.

Kicking the door open with his toe, Mg. Thane stepped into the room and set the stack of books down on the desk. Ceony cringed—she had worried those would be for her.

“Some reading for when Pip tires you,” Mg. Thane said, patting the top of the stack with his hand.

Arching sideways, Ceony read the titles: Astrology for Youth, Anatomy of the Human Body Volume I, Marcus Waters’s Guide to Pyrotechnics, Theories on Aviation, and Calming the Spirits: An Essay on the Tao. Ceony’s lips parted a little wider with each title.

“But these have nothing to do with paper,” she said.

“Mmm, I can see why they accepted you at Tagis Praff,” he said with a chuckle. Ceony glared at him, but he went on, nonchalant. “Paper is more than just trees run through a chipper, Ceony. These will benefit you for future lessons.”

He tapped his chin and glanced to the window. “Are you hungry?”