Seventeen Stones (26 page)

“Mia,
you know that ice is more difficult to create than water?  We’ll begin with
that.  I want each of you to concentrate on ice and add this bit of a flick to
the wand movement.  You’ll find that you have better results.”   All six of the
girls began trying to create the ice.  There was a bit of trouble with spurts
of cold water erupting from their wands. 

Mia
predictably managed ice on the second try, and Ella was close behind.  Lizzy
and Beth, who had little talent for creation, started playing piano so that
there would be appropriate noise coming out of the room.  Sarah managed snow
before the end of class, while Mia progressed to ice sculpture.  Professor Fain
put a freezing charm on the icy renditions of flowers and birds.  “They won’t
melt and the staff can use them to decorate the house.” 

Lady
Anne nodded.  “Thrifty use of power.  Now, I’ll just take the circle down, and
we can start the dancing lessons.”  Ethan Fain groaned and bowed out.  “I’m no
dancer Lady Anne.  I believe I’ll go see what Mr. Dempsey is doing at the
stables.  The repairs sound fascinating.”  He ignored her glare and practically
ran for the door.

Lady
Anne snorted.  “Well girls, it seems we are on our own…”  The girls practiced a
line dance for another hour, until they were too famished to continue. 
Everyone retired to the drawing room and they were served a large meal as a
tea.  Lady Anne must have warned the staff because it wasn’t a light meal with
lady sized portions of scones and cookies.  Stacks of thick meaty sandwiches,
bowls of nuts, piles of pastry, and finally a substantial tea cake completed
the meal.

So
it went for most of the week before the ball.  Lady Anne found an appropriate
place to practice and an excuse to keep the servants from wandering in. 
Professor Fain took them through as much as possible as quickly as possible. 
They were drained and weary after each practice session.  Lady Anne ordered two
teas a day.  “The girls are still growing you know!”  Mia often indulged in a
short nap in the afternoon.  Professor Fain seemed generally pleased with their
progress.

“Keep
your wand a little higher, that’s it!”  Mia flushed as she finally produced
silk after three hours of practice.  She was sweating, shaking, and her eyes
were crossing, but there was a bolt of sapphire blue silk on the floor.  Bolts
of other types of cloth (the results of hours of work) lay beside it. 

Mia
plopped down in the middle of the floor and put her forehead on the cool marble. 
That felt much better.  Professor Fain and Lady Anne were quickly beside her,
offering food and tea.  “Sip this Mia; you’ll be fine in no time.”  Lady Anne
was holding a cup to her lips.  This annoyed her, since she was perfectly
capable of holding the cup herself.  She indignantly tried to hold herself up
and take the cup, but her body wouldn’t respond. 

She
felt much improved after the tea, and Professor Fain offered her some cookies
that she consumed with more speed than grace.  “We pushed too far this
evening.  You can’t do that to yourself.  This is second and third year work. 
When you start feeling tired you need to slow down.  It’s like over-working a
muscle.  If you try too hard you won’t be able to do anything the next day.” 
Mia was absently stroking the created bolt of silk.  Professor Fain sighed and
went to fetch a full meal for all the girls.  Keeping them working for three
hours was too much. Mia was fine after the meal, but Professor Fain insisted on
keeping the practice sessions down to an hour and a half after that.

***

Greatlady
Imogene arrived two days before the ball in a dark carriage.  She was a stately
looking woman: her face had the stone-like quality that so many older wand
wielders had.  It was unlined but unmovable.  Her hair was silver, except for
two black streaks that swirled in her upswept hair, giving it the appearance of
some sort of odd candy cane.  Her black silk gown was as stiff as her face; it
was encrusted with a fortune in jet beading.  She carried a black cane set with
an opal and fitted with silver, in the manner popular with young girls a
century before, much as the current fashion dictated that one always have a fan
at formal functions.  She obviously didn’t require it, for the cane spent most
of its time held in two hands across her body.  Mia had the uncomfortable
impression that the Greatlady might decide to rap someone across the knuckles
with it at any moment. 

Her
granddaughters greeted her enthusiastically and she hugged them both before
saying “Miss Amelia, thank you for inviting us to your Midwinter festivities.” 
Mia smiled and muttered something polite about the honor being hers and asked
if she could show the Greatlady to her rooms.  Greatlady Imogene nodded
graciously, and Mia showed her to a grand room with the best view in the house:
it overlooked the same formal garden as the ballroom. 

The
gardener, Sebastian, had outdone himself for the party.  Barren rose bushes
were decorated with green mage lights no bigger than the tip of a child’s
finger, while glittering fungi grew in oddly geometric shapes in reds, blues,
pinks, purples, and golds to replace the roses in a riot of color.  Hearty
evergreens were shaped like woodland creatures in different poses, and then decorated
with tiny gold mage lights.  The effect was enchanting. 

The
house was just as beautifully decorated.  Greatlady Imogene declared herself
charmed.  “It’s beautiful but not overdone, absolutely spot-on for a young
girl’s first house party.  I’m impressed.”  Mia gave the credit for the décor
where it belonged: to Lady Anne and Mrs. Wallace.  It was rather nice.  Evergreen
boughs hung over doorways and windows tied with wide gold ribbon and laced with
red berries for color.  Scented beeswax candles were burning to add light and
make the house smell divine.  The ice sculptures that Mia, Sarah, and Ella had
produced were sparkling from different corners.  Ice lilies decorated every
flat surface in bowls of snow; they glittered and added their fragrance to the
atmosphere.     

The
Greatlady turned her steel grey eyes on Mia.  “Beth told me that your guardian
would be attending.”  Mia nodded.  “Lady Anne is chaperoning the ball, but my
guardian, Emma Faithling of Forestreach Village will be here a few days after
the dance.  I was hoping she would be able to stay for the entire three weeks,
but there was an outbreak of Warbling Weakness in the village and she had to treat
it before she came.”  The Greatlady nodded.  “Serious business that.  I always
keep a supply of wren’s hair on hand.  My son had a terrible case of it when he
was thirteen.”  The lady’s eyes took on a far away look.  “I had to come back
to the estate to see to him, despite my duties at the library.  Sang for three
weeks, and his voice was breaking at the time.  Made the chickens stop laying
for miles around.”  She chuckled in remembrance.  That flash of humor moved her
face slightly, and Mia finally saw the resemblance between the lady and her
granddaughters.    

The
Greatlady’s addition to the household did not stop the lessons in Creation, or
the girls’ search for information on the council members.  There were many
distractions of course: the local wand wielders were invited as guests at
dinner almost every night, all anxious to meet the heir of the estate.  In
fact, common dinner conversation elicited quite a bit of information.  Vivian
was especially deft at extracting intelligence from visiting wand wielders
while playing cards.

“Apparently,
when Greatlord Wilkins found out, he cut them off without a copper.  Lady
Wilkins is sending her daughter a small stipend every month to help, but
they’ve never seen their granddaughter.”  Vivian was relating that latest bit
of gossip she’d heard at the card table.  Lady Wilkins had the bad luck to have
a daughter who had not inherited enough magical ability to go to college and
had married a tradesman.  Greatlord Wilkins had been angry enough to legally
disown her.  (The process of disowning a family member involved stacks of forms
and depositions.  In these modern times it was rarely used except for the
families of violent criminals.)

They
were gathering reams of information about the local wanded population.  Unfortunately,
most of it was minutiae.  Mia wasn’t particularly interested in how many rams
Greatlord Hopper had sold this year to pay off gambling debts or how many
fields Greatlord Prosper had standing fallow at the moment.  She’d never wanted
to know all the dirty little scandals that their families were involved in. 
She wanted to find out who might be willing to kill younger wand wielders to
protect their own power.  They weren’t getting even a hint of anything like
that.  None of the Greatlords seemed to care what was happening outside their
personal jurisdictions.  The Magus hadn’t called the entire council to session
in years, so they didn’t even talk that much to each other.  No one had, or
seemed to want, an overall picture.       

Madam
Reece came for a final fitting the day before the party, speaking with the
maids about proper ornaments for the ball, and particularly inquiring about the
flowers in each girl’s hair.  Lady Anne’s personal maid, a stern-looking woman
named Perkins was going to oversee the additional staff. 

Lady
Anne fretted over the lack of proper lady’s maids.  “Not that the girls who are
going to help aren’t talented, but a lady’s maid trains for years before one of
these balls.  Thank goodness they’re all so young.  No one will really expect
them to be
perfect
…”  Perkins quietly assured the lady that the girls
would be in good hands and continued sorting through the magical bag for the
ivory fan to match her mistress’ gown for that night.

The
preparations for the ball began as soon as Mia woke up.  The maid, another of
Madam Reece’s many relatives, was very gentle: the tweezers, exfoliating
potions, eye-lash lengthening spell were not.  The smell from her room should
have been enough to ruin her appetite, but she managed to eat a few bites
before the nail-buffer serum was applied.

The
maid brought up another lady-sized meal at lunch: Mia was used to much larger
portions, but she tried to keep the disappointment off her face.  After all,
the beautification spells she was performing weren’t that difficult.  They
didn’t burn nearly the amount of energy that a transfiguration spell did, much
less creation.

Ten
hours after her beauty regimen began, she stood in front of a full length
mirror surveying the result.  To her intense surprise, there were no bloody
spots on her brow from the tweezers, no scratches along her cheeks from the
exfoliating potion: not a single visible bruise!  She did wonder how she was
supposed to dance with powders on her lashes and cheeks.  Surely that stuff was
going end up all over her white gloves…

***

Mia
stood in the receiving line greeting her guests.  Her hair was swept into a
twist with miniature purple roses inserted here and there.  Her gown was a pale
lilac, with a lace overdress.  It was totally unlike the blush creation that
Sarah wore, the pale green gown that Vivian had chosen, or the cream silk that
Ella sported.  The twins were wearing pale blue of course.    

Professor
Fain’s quick comments about how she was holding up were the only respite she
had during the hour-long ordeal.  She did get the opportunity to meet Lord and
Lady Powers, as they arrived with the headmistress.  His bright blue eyes stared
out of an unlined face but her snow white hair showed their true age: they were
two of the oldest wand wielders left in the City bounds.  They took her measure
in the thirty or so seconds that they were able to spend together in the
receiving line, and then they parted, with the Powers following Headmistress
Villanova to the refreshment table. 

Mia
was already weary of meeting her guests by the time that Greatlord Chilton
arrived.   Seeing him three guests down the line, Lady Anne whispered in her
ear.  “It looks like Greatlord Chilton accepted the invitation and did not
remember to send the card!  Drat…I’ll have to arrange something at dinner. 
He’s half stone-mad anyway, so no one will take offence…”

He moved slowly and took
Mia’s hand.  She tried to smile.  Stone-mad or not, Chilton was the College’s
representative to the council.   It wouldn’t do to make a bad impression.

Lady Anne made the
introduction.

“Greatlord Chilton, this is
Amelia Rusticov…”

The Greatlord batted the
Lady’s hand away irritably.   “Don’t be daft girl, I know very well who Amelia
Wellington is!” 

He
turned his head to the side and gazed intently at Mia.  “I must say, Mellie,
I’m not sure I care for the change of hair color…had a mishap with a potion
again, have you?  You should ask my Audrea…the wife’s a dab hand with
potions…”  He looked around as if he expected to see his wife, who from all
reports was confined to their estate for her own stone-madness.   Mia watched
in horror as he seemed to realize where he was and that his Audrea wasn’t
there.  He stepped back and something stirred behind his eyes, though his
facial expression never changed.  “Pardon me…I seem to have mistaken you for
someone else young lady.  You must be the granddaughter.”  He looked down his
rather large nose.  “I hope we shall see more decorum from you than your mother
has shown.  Where is Alexandra?”

Mia took a deep breath. 
“Greatlord, my mother has been dead for fifteen years.” 

The
Greatlord’s eyes pinned like a falcon’s.  “Not possible.   Mellie would never
allow that.  Where is Amelia?”  His mind seemed to slip away again.  “I suppose
she and Audrea are in some corner for a nice gossip.  We poor men are left to
our own devices again.”  His smile held some of the charm he must have had as a
younger man.  “Well, it was a pleasure to meet Mellie’s granddaughter.  I’ll
just toddle along and find Audrea.”

Lady
Anne took his arm.  “I think she felt ill sir.  I believe she is at your
estate.”

As the lady walked him away
he blustered “Poppycock!  I hate parties.  Never go to them except when my wife
makes me…where is Mellie?  She’ll know how to settle everything properly…”

As
the final guests entered the ball room, Lady Anne released her, and she was
able to rush to the refreshment table for a glass of punch to wet her parched
mouth.  It didn’t help her horror at the Greatlord’s madness.  She didn’t
really expect it to.    

She
was finishing her punch when the first gentleman on her dance card claimed her
for a set.  Lady Anne was calling the dances.  The first one was a country dance;
one Mia was quite fond of.  Her partner missed a turn and glanced her foot, but
he apologized sincerely, so she forgave him.  She successfully finished the set
and managed another dainty cup of punch before the next set was called and she
was swept away again.  Next year she was increasing the time between sets and
the size of the punch glasses. 

If
her partners had been boys that she knew well or people whom she had something
in common with, the dances would have been the stuff of her girlish fantasies. 
As it was, she spent most of the night dancing with young men with the proper
breeding who were told to ask her to dance by their mothers.  It wasn’t exactly
the way she had hoped she’d spend her first ball.

Between
the second and third set the Headmistress walked up to Mia and her current
escort, a young man whose name she couldn’t remember without checking her dance
card.  The headmistress hinted that she was thirsty for two minutes before he
caught on and grudgingly went to get the ladies a cup of punch.  The
headmistress immediately steered Mia toward the open double doors of the veranda,
where Greatlord Powers and his wife were waiting.  His ancient blue eyes seemed
to see through her.  “It’s a difficult thing, to have a conversation at one of
these events.” 

His
lady nodded.  “Not that it matters, dear.  I have a bit of sight, you know, and
we’ll be seeing you again, not this upcoming summer, but the next.  Don’t
bother writing; we’ll have a bed ready for you when you know the questions to
ask.  Our estate is a bit of a trip, so pack for a couple of weeks.”  The old
wand wielders nodded their stone-like heads and ambled away from the veranda. 
They disappeared into the garden holding hands. 

The
headmistress cocked her head to the side.  “When you know what questions to
ask?  I think she’s worse than the Oracle.  I hope you have better luck when you
visit their home.”  Mia found herself agreeing with the headmistress’ implied
disapproval.

The
boy returned with the punch a few minutes later.  Mia drank hers with relief;
the headmistress sipped hers twice with obvious distaste.  “I’d forgotten how
sticky sweet this stuff is!  I believe I shall go to the card room and have a
cup of that excellent tea you mentioned.”  Mia, who hadn’t mentioned tea at
all, smiled and encouraged the headmistress to sample any sort of hospitality
that her home provided.  A moment later she was swept away by the next person
on her dance card, another old blood boy whose name she couldn’t remember.

Lady
Anne beamed at all six girls from the sidelines, and occasionally from the
dance floor.  She spent most of her time making introductions and seeing that
everyone had a partner.  Mia had barely been able to say a word to her friends
during the entire ball.

Professor
Fain rescued her during the supper dance, so she was at least assured a dinner
partner that wouldn’t ruin her appetite.  He grinned when he saw her relief and
the liberal use of her fan.  “You’re very popular.”  She snorted softly, aware
that it wasn’t lady-like to do so.  “I’d prefer to sit out a dance or two and
have partners who were actually interested in talking to me.  Some of them
haven’t said a single word beyond pleasantries, and they were the more
enjoyable ones…” 

Ethan
Fain shook his head.  “I’ve been avoiding the dance floor.  Lady Anne is
pouncing on any unattached man who strays into her sights and forcing them to
dance with girls who don’t have partners.  I’ve been in the card room getting annihilated
at chess.”  He grinned when Mia muttered “I’m jealous.”  He led her to the
dance floor with good grace.  She had gathered, from his total refusal to dance
on other occasions, that he would be awkward on the dance floor, but nothing
could be further from the truth.  He guided her through the set creditably,
without damaging her aching toes in the least.  He led the way to supper when
it was announced. 

They
talked about her studies and his apprenticeship, history and current events.  His
dry comments made her laugh and his knowledge of the City gave them an almost
unlimited scope of topics.  She went to her next partner with no small amount
of reluctance.  He watched her walk off with an odd look on his face and then returned
to avoiding Lady Anne’s eye for the rest of the evening.

The
early light of dawn was beginning to color the eastern sky as the final guests
climbed into their carriages.  Mia stood in the anteroom with a yawning Lady
Anne.  The other girls were snug in their beds.  Mr. Dempsey and Professor Fain
had been the last to leave, gallantly aiding the reluctant to remember their
waiting carriages, chivying the weary to return to their own homes.  Mia
thanked the gentlemen and traced her way to her own room, where the maid helped
her out of the confining ball gown and into her nightdress.  She slept like the
dead until noon.

***

The
other girls hadn’t had quite as uncomfortable a time as Mia.  Sarah had escaped
her mother’s notice and spent almost an hour in the card room with her father
playing chess before returning to the dance floor.  Vivian had encouraged her
most unpleasant partners to talk about the council.  She’d had the diversion of
gathering information while she danced which kept her interested, and it made
her a more pleasant partner.  Several high-ranking ladies had remarked about
her manner. 

Lady
Anne approved.  “That’s exactly what you wanted them to see Vivian!  You showed
yourself to be above your breeding, the old tabbies will love that.  Lady
Fredrick even commented on your grace as you danced with her son!  That’s a
real coup.  She’s one of the worst snobs in the pack.”  Vivian didn’t like the
phrase ‘above your breeding’ but Mia grabbed her wrist under the table.  Lady
Anne meant well.  She couldn’t help being something of a snob. 

Sarah
rolled her eyes.  “Her son is also a blithering idiot.  She’ll be lucky to snag
any wanded girl for him, old blood connections and fortune or not.”  Her mother
shushed her, but without any force behind her command.  Either she agreed with
her daughter’s estimation of the young man or she was too elated by the success
of the party to quibble over a chance comment…possibly both.   

Lizzy
had kept her partners chuckling; Beth had been very sweet and attentive.  Young
Mr. Stubbs had unexpectedly taken up the mantle of white knight and had kept
the fragile-seeming Beth well supplied with punch and pastry.  Lizzy made fun
of him.  “He’s such a big clumsy puppy.  I’m not sure if Beth’s feet survived
the evening.”  Beth blushed, but she chided her sister.  “He’s not so bad, once
you get to know him.  He really loves the land and lakes around here.  He’s
kind to small children and animals, and he hates injustice of any sort.  That
has to be worth something.”  Lizzy chuckled.  “It would be if he weren’t such a
stuffy prig about everything…”  She stopped when her sister shot her a dirty
look.  Lizzy didn’t bring up the subject again.