by The jumping pas de sissonne was lovely, but it wasn’t until Jay executed a passable saut de basque sodecha that I knew we were likely to win. He soared about six feet up (aided, conceivably, by a wee touch of levitation magick), performed a three-sixty-degree pirouette in mid-air while doing the splits, I mean, I ask you. Who could possibly top that?
Not our opponents, anyway. No chance.
‘Let’s not get too comfortable,’ I warned a winded and sweating Jay. ‘More to come.’
Jay hadn’t the breath to speak, but the look he gave me said enough.
‘Not yet,’ I said, soothingly. ‘Rest first.’
I waited, with a hopeful smile, as Jay fought for breath. When, at last, he stopped gasping for air, he said, ‘No. No. Next time’s your turn.’
‘That’s fair,’ I said, cautious-like.
‘I want a double tour en l’air, at least, Ves.’
‘No can do.’
Jay looked at me.
‘I might be able to go as high as a single.’
‘Ves, I’ve just performed any number of manoeuvres of which I am not capable and my poor body will be paying for it for weeks.’
‘Sorry,’ I said, momentarily shame-faced. ‘But you looked fine.’
Jay was not mollified. ‘Double tour en l’air.’
‘Okay.’ I was meek and contrite. ‘Anything for you.’
Jay shook his head. ‘I’d ask how we even got here,’ he panted, turning away from me. ‘But what would be the point? We followed Ves. That’s how we got here.’
Since you might be wondering the same sort of thing, permit me to explain myself.
It wasn’t entirely my fault. Honest.
***
The regulator is ready.
October came. Mid October, when the intense heat of summer had finally packed itself off and I’d spent several weeks as an apprentice to Merlin (yes, the Merlin, even if she wasn’t quite as most of us expected). It was going pretty well, but we weren’t done, not by a long shot.
Time waits for no man, however, and neither does Orlando, for the rumours started to circulate. The regulator is ready.
It’s supposed to be a top-secret project, of course, so there shouldn’t have been hearsay. Where there’s life there’s gossip, though, and there’s plenty of life at the Society.
‘Is it true?’ I asked Milady. She hadn’t summoned me. I’d invited myself, clambered all the way up the stairs to her tower-top room, knocked on the door, then waited over half an hour for an invitation to enter.
What can I say. I’d spent weeks and weeks at Home, and, while I’d had the by no means uninteresting diversion of Tuesdays at Merlin’s cottage to entertain me, I was starting to get antsy. I was brimming with a small fortune in magick and I had nothing much to spend it on.
I’m a tool. Use me.
‘I require more information in order to answer your question, Ves,’ said Milady. ‘Is what true?’
‘You know what I mean.’ I said this in a half-whisper, aware that I was dealing in information contraband.
Milady did not dignify this comment with an answer.
I kicked at the rich, blue carpet with one toe, feeling uncharacteristically annoyed. ‘The regulator,’ I said, capitulating. ‘I hear it’s ready.’
‘Oh? And where did you hear that?’
I had to think for a second. ‘Not Indira, of course. She’s far too good to break faith with Orlando. But Nell mentioned it at lunch. And Luke at breakfast. And I heard Molly and Dave H. talking about it in the common room. Oh, and Aki said—’
‘I see.’ Milady sounded weary. The Society might be full of brilliant people doing important work, but we were like a bunch of rowdy, recalcitrant children sometimes. Poor Milady’s hair must be grey to the last strand. I heard her take a deep breath. ‘Officially, I can confirm nothing.’
‘Of course.’
‘But off the record, yes. Orlando has recently informed me that he has a functional prototype and he feels it will soon be time to test it in the field.’
Test it in the field. Words to strike delight into the heart of a Ves, and probably a Jay, too. Maybe. Hopefully. I bounced a bit on my toes. ‘I volunteer!’
‘I am well aware of your right of interest in this matter, Ves.’
That wasn’t quite a yes. I frowned. ‘You… you are planning to send me on this mission, aren’t you?’
‘How are your studies with Ophelia progressing?’
Not an answer. This didn’t bode well.
‘Excellently,’ I said, with perfect truth. ‘She’s very patient with me.’
I make myself sound like a difficult student, but I’m not, not really. Not in the usual fashion. I am just eager, and brimming with enthusiasm, and I want to know everything yesterday. One cannot learn all of Merlin’s myriad and ancient arts by last Tuesday, however, even with the best will in the world. Ophelia-who-is-Merlin bears gracefully with my impatience. Usually.
‘I am reluctant to suspend your studies at this time,’ said Milady.
My heart sank.
‘It would only be for a little while!’
‘It may not be. Your future role as Merlin is important.’
‘So’s the regulator! And who better than Jay and me to test it? We’ve been part of this from the beginning. We know everything about it. Who could possibly do a better job?’
‘No one, Ves, that I grant you. Nonetheless—’
‘Please,’ I interrupted. ‘Please?’ My heart was dropping through the floor, and I was becoming seriously worried that Milady might leave me out. Might even send Jay and Indira without me.
There are times when I’ll beg, if I have to. I’m not proud.
‘I will consider the matter.’
I hoped I didn’t imagine the slight softening of her tone.
Pity that she’s a disembodied voice. I couldn’t read her face to determine how sympathetic she was to my cause.
‘I’ll be on my best behaviour,’ I promised. ‘Strictly no shenanigans.’
Well, it wasn’t really a lie. I said it in good faith. At the time.
***
To be honest with you, I’d said my studies with Ophelia were going well, but it’s a little hard to gauge my actual progress.
She wasn’t really teaching me anything solid. It’s not like there’s a set curriculum for Merlinhood, with a couple of exams at the end, so I know when I’m ready. She was teaching me along more abstract, wishy-washy — one might even say airy-fairy — lines, like: how to go deep with myself, so I truly know where I’m at and what I’m capable of. How to sense and manipulate my own magick, on a far deeper and more complex level than I’ve ever even heard of before. How to understand my own capacity — and safely exceed it, at need. How to sense and manipulate magick external to myself. How to draw on the world around me. And a fair bit of what one might call magickal ethics, according to Ophelia’s admittedly peculiar world view.
It’s not quite what they teach you at the University.
I’m already a far better practitioner than I used to be. I used to need a little magickal Curio to change the colour of my hair, as simple a thing as that is. I don’t need such tools now, to the probable relief of Ornelle at Stores. The number of objects I need to, er, borrow from the Society’s stockroom in order to do my job has drastically decreased.
But when it comes to Merlin’s arts, the small stuff is inconsequential. Ophelia is teaching me to handle big stuff with big magick and I have no idea when that process will be complete.
To be even more honest, I’m not in a hurry for that day to come. Eventually, she’ll decide I’m ready, even for the really big stuff. I’ll be given the keys to all the ancient magick she possesses, trusted to use my powers for Good, not for Evil, and then… she’ll disappear.
Leaving me to fight the good fight for British magick without her guidance.
Gulp.
Maybe I wasn’t sorry for the prospect of a temporary suspension of study. It’s been an overwhelming few months. I’ve changed in ways I never imagined possible. I’m wielding far more magick — and far more responsibility — than I know what to do with.
It’d be nice to put it all down for a week or two and go back to being Just Ves again. Just a field agent with the Society for Magickal Heritage, surrounded by my excellent and capable peers, achieving remarkable things in unorthodox ways and making stuff happen.
Blissful thought.
I wanted to talk about it.
Jay was out on a research trip with Melissa’s team again, so I couldn’t bitch at him about the unspeakable trials of my life.
Val was closeted with Merlin’s grimoire, the loan of which I had successfully negotiated with Ophelia and Crystobel Elvyng. I had thereby secured Val’s Eternal Gratitude for myself, which was no inconsiderable blessing. I had by the same means lost her attention for the foreseeable future, which was a pity.
I could go and talk to Rob. I’ve been doing that quite a lot, lately. He’s a good friend and a good doctor and he has a nice, calming way about him that’s very much appreciated in a crisis.
I’ve also had a few appointments with Grace, our head-rearranger, and she’s excellent too. But they both use words like anxiety and coping systems rather a lot (usually prefaced with words like “unhealthy”). Much as I appreciate their help, their approach is medical rather than friendly; they treat my conditions rather than sympathising with my plight. If I wanted someone to bitch with, Rob wasn’t going to be the ideal choice.
So, I went down to the Toil and Trouble division.
