Dancing and Disaster

Episode 11

Dancing and Disaster: 3

by

‘I’m not going without Ves,’ Jay duly announced, fifteen minutes later, standing in the middle of Milady’s tower-top chamber with his chin high, eyes flashing rebellion.

‘Certainly not,’ said Milady, calmly.

The chin came down a bit. ‘What?’

‘Ves, you are late. I understand you were recuperating in the Grove, so I will let it pass. However—’

‘Late?’ I repeated, stupidly.

‘A summons was sent this morning. Several, in fact.’

And I’d been sulking with the Horn Squad and had missed them all.

Oops.

‘Sorry,’ I gasped. ‘Sorry. I’m here. And I’ll go anywhere.’

‘Silvessen, specifically,’ said Milady.

‘Great. Where’s that.’

‘Silvessen was a thriving village many years ago, with mention made in the Domesday Book. Scant references to it in one or two historic texts suggest it was a magickal community, home to at least one wand-wright of considerable skill. However, it has long since faded. Any source of magick it once possessed is either gone entirely, or nearly so.’

‘Perfect,’ I agreed, nodding.

‘It also happens to be remote in location, at a little distance from other habitations. Hence, an ideal choice for a test of Orlando’s prototype.’

Few inconvenient passers-by, magickal or otherwise, to interfere with whatever we’d be doing.

‘Sounds great,’ I said brightly.

‘Perhaps.’ Milady paused, then went on, without elaborating upon that slightly sinister maybe. ‘Indira shall accompany you, as Orlando’s representative. The workings of the regulator will be left to her, for she is properly trained in the operation of the device.’

‘Understood.’

‘Emellana Rogan has also agreed to work with us again, as the Troll Court’s representative.’

I bounced a bit. I couldn’t help it.

Milady paused again, for longer this time. ‘And,’ she finally said, ‘Valerie has recommended that Zareen be included as part of your group.’

‘Zar?’ I echoed. ‘What? Why? Not that I have the slightest objection to her being with us, but—’

‘It is unusual,’ Milady interrupted, ‘but I find myself in agreement with Valerie’s reasoning. The facts of the matter are briefly these: while little information remains about Silvessen in the historical record, there is one discernible mention which gives cause for concern. Gallimaufry has brought to our attention a short text, written by one Sumla of Witheridge in the late fifteen-hundreds, in which a village we believe to be Silvessen was described as “a deathly place“, and “beyond the pale“. It is not known why these words were used or what, precisely, they betoken. Considering that the text in question is hundreds of years old, it is likely that nothing now remains there but ruins.’

‘But in case that isn’t true: Zareen,’ I said.

‘Indeed. She assures me that she is fully recovered and ready to resume duty.’

‘And what are we doing in Silvessen, precisely?’

‘Your goal is to verify whether the use of the regulator can successfully alter, or indeed reverse, the predominant state of magick in a designated area. In the case of Silvessen, a successful test will see some restoration of magickal flow.’

My heart was too full to reply. Take several valued friends. Venture forth, into the ruins of a magickal community possibly rife with ectoplasmic activity. Deploy the hard-won regulator. Bring magick back. Save the day.

‘I love my job,’ I told Milady.

The air sparkled with her amusement. ‘I am certainly pleased to hear it.’

An idea occurred to me. A glittering, scintillating, brilliant idea, and I passionately loved it from the very first moment.

But to carry it off, I’d have to be careful.

‘So, considering the, um, uncertainties about Silvessen and the possibility of encountering unusual trouble,’ I said. ‘We’ll be needing some unusual arts at our disposal, no?’

‘Your unusual capacities may indeed prove a valuable asset, Ves, yes.’

‘That’s why I’m going along.’

‘Besides your unique familiarity with the regulator’s history and workings and, indeed, the mission’s goals, yes.’

‘I will do my best to be fully prepared,’ I vowed.

Milady knew me well. There was a pause.

‘Within reason, Ves,’ she said.

‘Oh, absolutely.’ I beamed. ‘One hundred percent within reason.’

Jay was looking at me sideways. He knew me pretty well, too.

‘So!’ I said, clapping my hands together. ‘When do we leave?’

If you’re hoping to avoid inconvenient questions, a quick subject change is always a handy tactic.

‘Tomorrow morning. Please make your preparations promptly.’

‘Faster than the speed of light,’ I promised.

***

A false promise, of course, despite having what they call the best will in the world. I did my best, though, by stepping smartly down to my room the moment Milady closed the meeting, Jay trailing along at my heels.

‘Ves,’ he said, in a wary tone of voice, ‘what are you planning?’

‘Me? Nothing.’

‘You know that when people answer a question like that with the word “nothing”, there’s nothing more likely to rouse greater suspicion. You know that, right?’

‘I do.’

‘And you recall that I’m your faithful partner and sidekick and I’ve always got your back, but it does help to know what I’m dealing with? Right?’

I beamed at Jay. ‘And I also know that you’d never go tell on me to Milady and ruin a plan of guaranteed genius. I do know that, right?’

‘Right.’

The word was not uttered with quite the ringing confidence I was hoping for, but Jay had a point, so I took it.

‘The plan,’ I said, flinging open the door to my room, ‘is simple. We’re taking Merlin with us.’

‘Okay…’

‘Things could get hairy. We might need her.’

‘I can’t fault your logic, but Ophelia’s rather retiring, are you sure she’ll want to—’

‘No,’ I said, striding over to the silver star on the floor. ‘I’m sure she won’t want to. Which is why we aren’t taking Ophelia.’ I smiled seraphically at Jay. ‘We’re taking me, though, aren’t we?’

I didn’t give him time to reply. Another step carried me into the centre of my portal-star, and I was gone in a blink.

He didn’t follow. By now, he knows better than to remonstrate with me when I’ve got a Brilliant Idea.

Wise man.

It not being Tuesday, I was polite enough to knock on the door of Ophelia’s cottage before I interrupted her. I found her with her rough green overalls on, mixing up something sweet-smelling in an enormous pestle and mortar. Every pound of her heavy granite pestle sent up another, pungent waft of scent, and I inhaled deeply. ‘That smells wonderful. What is it?’

‘An emollient.’ Ophelia neither elaborated nor looked up, intent upon her process. ‘Hello, Ves,’ she added, absently.

‘Good afternoon! And I hope you’ve had a pleasant day.’

At that, she did look up. Perhaps it was the buoyant quality to my voice that alerted her suspicions. ‘I have,’ she said, eyes narrowing, ‘thank you.’

‘So, you know how you said that if I want something I should just enquire?’

I could see regret for these recently uttered words unfurling behind her eyes. ‘I did say that.’

‘I come with an enquiry.’

‘So I perceive.’ She set down the pestle, giving me her full attention. ‘Let’s hear it, then.’

‘Have you heard about the new regulator?’ I was never sure how much she kept up with the news at the Society. She spent so much of her time alone in her cottage, engaged in her own, solitary work.

‘I have,’ she nodded.

‘Aha. Well, I asked for time off because a few of us are going off to test it in the field. Tomorrow.’

‘Congratulations.’ She smiled, a little, and I was touched. She knew me well enough to understand how excited I’d be.

‘Thank you!’ I beamed. ‘The thing is, Milady is sending Zar with us, just in case we encounter Toil and Trouble. Which we very well might. Apparently there are unquiet spirits, possible undead, who even knows? So, I thought I’d better be as well equipped to deal with trouble as I can.’

‘I believe I can see where we are going with this.’

‘And. And! Since the whole mission is about testing a new magickal art in the field, I thought it might also be a nice opportunity for me to test my new magickal arts in the field. Two birds with one stone. Super efficient.’

Request made. I had only to shut up and wait, while Ophelia turned the idea over in her mind.

‘It is too soon,’ she said.

‘I thought you’d say that, and you’re not wrong. But really, how are we ever going to know when I’m ready unless we try things out?’

‘There is some justice to that thought, yes.’

‘And I will, of course, swear on my honour to remember everything you’ve taught me, and never to abuse my power.’

Her head tilted. She regarded me thoughtfully, and said, in a deceptively placid tone: ‘How will you know what constitutes abuse?’

‘Um. You’ve taught me a lot about ethics, and—’

‘I have tried to teach you a lot about ethics. I am not sure how much of it has registered with you.’

I coughed. I do have a reputation as a rule-breaker and sometime trouble-maker, and it’s not altogether unjust, now is it? But…

‘You knew me by reputation when you chose me for this job,’ I pointed out. ‘I have to believe you’d trust me to get it right in the end. Even if I make some mistakes along the way.’

That, it seemed, was the right thing to say, for at last she nodded. ‘Very well. I believe I can invest you with Merlin’s magick on a temporary basis. Shall we say, one week?’

‘That should be plenty. Thank you, thank you, thank you.’

She cut me off mid-gush with a raised hand, and I shut myself up. ‘I will expect a full account of your doings as Merlin. An honest account. And I will be asking your colleagues for an appraisal of your conduct and achievements while wielding these arts.’

‘That seems fair,’ I said, cautiously. I knew I could rely on Jay and Zareen to soften any misdemeanours I might happen to stray into, entirely accidentally. But Indira? She was too scrupulously honest for that. And Emellana, well, she was a wild card. I couldn’t tell what she would do.

I might actually have to behave myself.

Ophelia’s smile returned, tinged with an amusement I might even term faintly malicious. ‘It will be quite the test.’

I let out my breath in a deep sigh. ‘What happens if I fail?’

Ophelia thought about that. ‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘I will have to think about that if it happens.’

So I’d placed myself on trial as the up-and-coming Merlin, with criteria I would personally find difficult to stick to, and the threat of unknowable consequences if I screwed up too badly.

Excellent.

I was beginning to feel nicely alive.

Episode 11

Dancing and Disaster: 2

by

‘You look like a parti-coloured rain cloud,’ was Zareen’s comment upon my appearance at her door.

She has a little cupboard of a room in the west wing, sort of near the library. It stood empty for over a month while Zareen was off enduring — er, benefiting from — her own, post-mission treatment back at the School of Weird. If I’ve had a tough time of it lately, try talking to Zar. By the end of a certain few, chaotic weeks, she was half out of her wits and I hadn’t seen the whites of her eyes in a while.

She’s better now. I think.

‘I’m grumpy,’ I agreed, plopping down into the only unoccupied chair in Zareen’s tiny little room. I produced a few raindrops in illustration of my point, and they rained with cheerful greyness all over the faded crimson carpet.

‘Let me guess…’

She was lounging in her chair as was her usual wont, her booted feet up on a corner of her disordered desk. The green streaks in her black hair were brighter than usual; freshly dyed. She’d lost the inky shadows under her eyes, mostly, and she was a normal-for-her kind of pale, not bone-white.

Most of all, she’d got her withering sarcasm back, as she proceeded to demonstrate.

‘Word is the regulator’s ready for testing, which ought to please you. But you’re not pleased. So, you’re officially too special and important to be sent out with it, is that it? Poor Ves.’

I glowered at her. ‘Milady’s reluctant to interrupt my studies.’

‘With Merlin. The actual, literal Merlin, with whom many a person would kill to study.’

This is what I like about Zareen. She’s bracingly realistic.

‘You make a good point,’ I allowed.

‘I’ll swap places with you.’ She laughed at the look on my face, showing off a new tongue stud: poison-green and glittering. ‘Not for real. It’s not like Ophelia wouldn’t notice.’

‘No, that’s actually a great idea,’ I said earnestly. ‘Merlin’s got such a lot to teach. Everybody should benefit from it. Not just me.’

‘Said in no selfish spirit whatsoever.’

‘Zero self-interest involved,’ I agreed. ‘Not one iota.’

Zareen shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t say no to a lecture or two, but good luck getting it past Ophelia. And Milady.’

Ophelia was rather retiring. Curiously so, for a person with her kind of power. She was obviously most comfortable in her own cottage, teaching one person at a time (preferably me). She wasn’t the type to volunteer herself as a lecturer.

I had a notion Milady might like the idea, however.

‘Wouldn’t get me out of Tuesdays, though,’ I said, regretfully. ‘I want only one glorious, glittering week…’

‘Risking your life for the good of Queen and Country?’

‘See. You get me.’

Zareen shook her head. ‘Ves. Can you think of even a single time someone has seriously said no to you?’

I sat up a bit. ‘Loads. Milady often says—’

She held up a hand. ‘I’ll rephrase. One single time someone has seriously said no to you, and you didn’t just go and do it anyway. And get away with it.’

I dutifully thought.

‘Nope.’

‘There you go.’ Zareen quirked a brow at me.

I took this to mean, Go do your Ves thing.

She was right. I was going, one way or another. I’d rather do it with Milady’s official sanction than without, but whatever.

I felt better.

‘Hey, maybe we can take you along, too,’ I offered, brightly smiling. My idea of gratitude. Not everybody appreciates it.

‘Seems unlikely there’d be cause,’ was her only reply. And she had reason. I mean, Zareen’s particular talents might more rightly be termed peculiar.

That said.

Famous last words. 

***

I worked my magic on Ophelia next (the charismatic kind, not the enchantment kind. The former might not succeed, but the latter would get me squashed like a bug).

I found her intransigent.

‘But you’d be wonderful,’ I protested, smiling in the face of a flint-eyed glare from my usually mild-mannered tutor. ‘Think how much everyone would learn!’

I’d hopped through to the Merlin cottage via the personal gateway I have in my room. Ophelia made it for me, even drew a pretty silver star to mark the location. I chose to interpret that as a mark of special favour, not merely a practicality. I mean, she could have just drawn a big, black ‘X’.

I found her engaged in study, as was common. That, or she was indulging in her secret(ish) passion for Georgette Heyer novels. She was tucked up in an overstuffed armchair and I couldn’t see much of the book she was clutching, except that it looked rather ragged.

Having swept in like the whirlwind I am, I’d started arguing for the lecture immediately. ‘Ophelia! Zareen and I had the best idea.’

It all went downhill from there, but, to be fair, that was according to plan.

‘I am no lecturer.’ Ophelia shut her book with a decisive, and disapproving, snap. I caught a glimpse of the title before she hid it away. The Talisman Ring. ‘And,’ she added, somewhat ruining the impact of a statement so sternly intoned, ‘Merlin’s arts are not for everyone.’

‘True,’ I agreed. ‘Just for you. And me.’

She looked at me with an expression I tried not to interpret as second thoughts on that latter point.

‘I understand,’ I said hastily. ‘Wouldn’t dream of pushing.’

She waited, sceptical.

I suppose, after a couple of months, she’s getting used to me.

‘Can I have next Tuesday off?’ I said, possibly rushing my fence a bit. ‘And maybe the one after that?’

She blinked, and her hauteur deepened. ‘For what purpose?’

‘There’s an important assignment I need to be involved with. Might take a week or two.’

‘Oh. Of course.’

It was my turn for a surprised silence. ‘Really?’

‘Certainly. I am not so stern a task-master as all that, I hope. There is time.’

‘Oh. Well. Thank you.’

She studied me. ‘Your first proposal was a deliberate attempt to unsettle me so I would agree more readily to your second.’

I opened my mouth, hoping some glib defence would spring easily to my lips.

It didn’t.

‘You needn’t have gone to such lengths. While the prospect of your temporary absence seems trivial in comparison with the horrible prospect of my performing lectures for the benefit of a hundred reluctant students, I would have agreed anyway.’

‘I see that now,’ I said in a small voice.

‘Consequently, the complimentary nerve-shattering was unnecessary.’

I mulled that over. She was right. Why had I imagined I’d have to manoeuvre her into it? It was Milady who arranged my schedule — and held decided opinions about it, at that.

Perhaps I’d got so used to dealing with my mother, I’d forgotten that not everybody said ‘no’ as a matter of course.

‘I apologise,’ I said. ‘Another time I will simply enquire.’

To my relief, she began to look more amused than affronted. ‘I perceive that few people ever really refuse you anything,’ she said, curiously echoing what Zareen had said earlier in the day.

I began to wonder if I was viewed as a spoiled, wheedling child by the Society at large, and decided not to pursue the subject any further.

‘Just my mother,’ I offered. ‘It doesn’t stick.’

***

Three days passed; days in which Indira remained close-mouthed about the regulator, Milady did not summon me for a mission briefing, and Jay did not return.

By Friday my mood had gone from grey and drizzly to storm warnings, take cover.

By Sunday I was out in the unicorn grove, sulking. I’d love to say something more flattering, like, acknowledging my feelings and engaging in judicious self-care, but I was sulking. The ears were down, the tail was drooping, I was eating grass, for goodness’ sake.

So when Jay suddenly appeared, the sun came out again in my sad little world and I went to meet him all a-frisk.

‘And there she is,’ said Jay, striding into the heart of Addie’s grove and smiling. I think. I may not have mentioned this, but human expression can look a little different when you aren’t presently being one. The stretching of Jay’s face in sideways directions, the baring of the teeth; these registered with me as good and odd in about equal measure.

I gambolled coquettishly towards him, tossing my mane. If there was a just goddess in attendance then there ought to have been an opportune gust of wind at just that moment, blowing back my hair, and a ray of sunlight like a star gleaming at the tip of my horn.

There probably wasn’t.

There definitely wasn’t, for Jay’s smile disappeared and he took a step back. ‘Wait. Are you okay? What are you doing? Is there something wrong with your legs?’

I suppose unicorn mannerisms are no more easily comprehensible to a human. So much for my joyous prance of welcome. I sniffed and shoved him with my nose.

He grinned and stroked it for me. ‘Do you fancy coming out, or should I come back next week?’

I answered this question by setting off for the exit at a brisk trot. Jay had to run to keep up with me, which he did with enviable grace. He looked good. Like always. Dressed in jeans and his beloved black jacket. Slightly tousled hair, but the look suited him.

‘Great, so,’ Jay said, keeping pace with me without apparent effort, ‘what do we know about Silvessen?

What? I shook my head. Nothing. What are you talking about.

‘That’s what I thought. Which makes it the perfect choice, I suppose, because if even you don’t know anything about it then probably no one’s very attached to the place. Means we can do some pretty thorough testing and just, see what the results are, no great pressure. I— uh, Ves? Wait?’

This speech confused me to the point of frustration, for I had no idea what he was talking about and no way of saying so.

So, I took off for the exit at a dead gallop, leaving Jay to high-tail it after me. So to speak. Oh, what kind of a unicorn would he be, if he could be one? Dark and sexy. No question.

Having wound my way through the maze of silver-leaved bushes, roses that shouldn’t have been in flower, draping willow trees and other faerie paraphernalia with practised ease, I raced over the threshold of Addie’s grove and collapsed in a Ves-shaped heap on the other side of it.

Jay took another couple of minutes to reach me, time which I spent checking that my clothing was correct (yes), arranging my disordered hair (important) and regaining my composure.

So, when Jay burst out of the grove, looking windblown and wild-eyed and, I judged, confused, I was able to say, with a certain icy cool: ‘Testing? Testing what?’

‘The, um. The regu— Milady hasn’t told you?’

‘No. She has not.’

Jay stopped dead. ‘Oh.’

Oh indeed.

This was it, then. My request had been denied. I’d been excluded from the mission I had a unique right to be part of — even Milady had agreed that no one was better suited to the job.

And, okay, I was going to find a way to go along anyway, sneak if I had to. But, still. Everyone else thought I should be left out.

I felt like I’d been punched.

‘It’s… probably because of your training,’ Jay offered. ‘It’s really important.’

‘That’s what Milady said, when I asked her if I could go last week.’

Jay nodded. ‘It is really important,’ he said again.

I felt too forlorn to reply. I wasn’t even angry, just gutted. Jay was going, Indira would be going, someone from the Troll Court, most likely — maybe even Emellana Rogan, my personal hero.

And I’d be stuck at home, going deep with myself so I could understand just how much magick and lacerated feelings were lurking down there.

‘I’m sorry, Ves,’ said Jay, apparently reading some fraction of this in my face.

I nodded and turned away. Back Home, then. I had homework for Ophelia that I hadn’t finished, because I was hoping I wouldn’t need to for a couple of weeks. Then, on Tuesday, lessons. Or… or a rule-and-law-defying stealth pursuit of Jay’s mission to Silvessen.

I was losing my enthusiasm to even try the latter — and that wasn’t good.

Jay walked beside me in silence for a couple of minutes. I wanted to ask him how his latest assignment went, or how he was doing today, but words didn’t come.

Eventually he said, ‘No. You’re right, it isn’t okay.’

‘What?’

‘You should be with us.’

I tried a smile. ‘Surely the law-abiding Jay isn’t suggesting I break ranks and hare off after you.’

‘I’m not suggesting that.’

‘Oh.’

‘I’m suggesting I’ll refuse to go unless you’re coming too.’

‘Oh!’

I sneaked a sideways look at Jay. He had his mulish face on, jaw set, eyes steely.

‘Jay,’ I said. ‘I appreciate that.’

He merely nodded, brusquely, and strode on.

This time, it was me who had to trot a bit to keep up with him.

Episode 11

Dancing and Disaster: 1

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.