Chapter Ninety-one – Doorknobs and Cantrips

Pandy didn’t need to eat, but Isidor always looked too thin, so she felt very guilty when he didn’t go to dinner late, but rather stayed in the room, fiddling with Tempest’s box. The tortoise retreated inside as soon as she was given the opportunity, though she did linger just long enough to give Pandy a look that might have been disgust, but also might simply have been contemplation.

Once he was clean and dressed in a fresh uniform, Isidor ignored Pandy in favor of setting his hands on his knees and closing his eyes. He made soft noises that might have been words, but also might have been vocal exercises because he was secretly a shower singer. Pandy scrambled beneath Thaniel’s bed and waited, worried that if she reminded Isidor she was there, he might make good on his threat to expel her.

Thaniel came tumbling into the room almost as soon as the bell rang to tell them dinner was over. He was supposed to go straight to the library for his last day of chores there, but apparently he hadn’t been able to stand not knowing where Pandy and Isidor were. As soon as he saw Pandy poke her nose out, he scooped her up, nuzzling his face into her fur and taking a deep breath. He’d once told her he recognized her in her Ms. Wellington-shape because she smelled like ‘Bunny’, but she’d thought he was exaggerating. Maybe not, though. She sniffed herself surreptitiously, but could only smell fur and dust.

“I was really worried when you an’ Izzy didn’t come to dinner,” Thaniel told her reproachfully when he finally pulled away. Then his eyes lit up and he grinned, “And you didn’t get to hear about the painting! We found it!” He grimaced. “Well, Geri found it. None of us found anything around here, but we met up in the foyer, and there was one really creepy painting, way up high next to the chancellor’s office. You can’t even see it unless you go up those big swoopy stairs at least a little bit. But then, there he is, an old guy with great big, white whiskers out to here.”

Thaniel lowered Pandy so he could hold his hands a good foot away from the sides of his face. “He has a big ol’ red nose, and buggy blue eyes that watch you all the time. And when Bing started to walk up the steps with his shoes off, it let out this moan, like it had really bad gas, but couldn’t go to the bathroom.”

This description made Pandy want to laugh, but she was a rabbit, so she didn’t. Besides, Thaniel wasn’t done yet. “Then Ms. Davenport appeared outta nowhere, and grabbed hold of him, just like this.” He reached around and pinched his own collar between thumb and forefinger, like his shirt was a dirty handkerchief someone else had dropped on the floor.

“So now Bing has to help out in the stables tonight, but he says that’s okay, because he usually helps out anyway. He doesn’t feel right not doing anything, which I don’t understand, because isn’t it nice when you don’t have to work? Though I did like helping Martha in the kitchen, as long as she didn’t ask me to take out the compost, because it was always really stinky, and sometimes it dripped.”

Thaniel finally came to a halt, and Pandy could see that he’d had more fun tonight than in the last week of school. His cheeks were pink, his eyes bright, and he looked like he had enough energy to light up a small city block. She was going to tell him she would be away the next day, but she didn’t want to ruin his mood, so instead, she just nodded and nosed his hand until he stroked her ears.

Isidor had listened to Thaniel’s ramble, but now he stood and reached into Tempest’s box, plucking out the tortoise, who was firmly closed up in her shell. He tucked her into his pocket and turned to Thaniel and Pandy.

“Well, I guess at least some of those mysteries are real, then. We…,” he glanced at Pandy, then sighed and finished, “obviously didn’t find the portrait. And then we were late to dinner. We should go to our chores now. We’re going to be late.”

“You’re still helping Mrs. Farrier, right?” Thaniel asked, climbing to his feet with Pandy in his arms.

Isidor nodded. “And today is your last day with the- in the library?”

“Yeah, but Professor Beeswick hasn’t been there lately, and I think we’re just in the way of the older kids.” Thaniel opened the door, looking slightly crestfallen. “Have you-? I mean, have you put away books before? With magic?”

To Pandy’s surprise, Isidor hesitated, because as far as she knew, he hadn’t helped file books, so that should have been an easy ‘no’. Instead, he made a noncommittal sound as they began walking down the hall and said, “Why do you ask?”

Thaniel’s arms tightened around Pandy. “No reason,” he blatantly lied. “I just don’t want to, um, do it…wrong.”

They walked down the steps and out into the foyer in silence, but when they reached the point where Isidor needed to turn right so he could go through the dining hall, the older boy stopped instead. He had his hand in his pocket, touching Tempest, as he seemed to do when he was conflicted about something.

“You know,” he said slowly, “the nobles, they don’t use innate magic for much. As soon as they can, they get elementals, and after that, it’s all about knowing how to summon, talk to, and contract with those elementals. They just…forget they even have magic of their own.”

He withdrew his hand and met Thaniel’s eyes. “The common people, though, they use innate magic for everything, unless they’re lucky enough to have a low-tier elemental or two who lives nearby and likes them. And that means they can’t afford to have people with Fire alignment accidentally burning down the house in order to light a candle, or a Water mage flooding the kitchen when they try to do dishes. The nobles pride themselves on being able to do everything without using commoner’s tricks, but they don’t see that all they’re doing is using elementals as a crutch instead.”

Pandy was pretty sure she knew where he was going with this, and she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it herself. Sure enough, Isidor held out his hand and said, “Light appear. Gentle, clear. Shine right here.” And a light did appear, not exactly steady, but without the flicker of electricity that all of his other lights had. When he closed his hand, the light went out.

“There are a lot of these little spells, but the important thing is that they’re all simple. They just describe what you need, without any frills or extras. Some scholars think they work because they help people hold a clear image of just exactly what they want. Others think they’re completely pointless, and they only work because the people who use them believe they need them. Nobles, of course, would never use anything so common.”

Thaniel was staring at the spot where the light had been, his eyes huge. “Can I…do that?”

Isidor shrugged. “Try it.”

Thaniel’s hand shook a little as he held it out and whispered, “Light appear. Gentle, clear. Shine right here.”

“Picture it,” Isidor said softly. “It’s a nice, even light. Like any other light. Nothing special, just a light.”

Thaniel nodded, and a light bloomed in his palm. It was hazier than Isidor’s, a dandelion puff of light, but it was there, and it stayed there as Thaniel stared in amazement, tears forming in his eyes before he sniffled and swallowed them back down. Finally, he closed his fingers, and light seeped between them in smoky streamers before fading away. It was strangely beautiful, and all three of them watched until the light was completely gone.

“Thank you,” Thaniel said, then abandoned all propriety and threw his arms around Isidor, hugging him fiercely. Pandy was pinned between them, which was probably almost as awkward as it was for Isidor.

As quickly as possible – without being insulting – Isidor extricated himself from Thaniel’s embrace. Clearing his voice, he took a few extra steps back, making sure he was completely clear of all possibility of a reenactment.

“Well, good. Then you just have to…figure out what the spell is for whatever you want to do. Some people can even make up their own, but others can only use spells they learn. Just remember, it’s only innate magic, so it can only do little things. If you try something that’s too hard, you can end up draining yourself to unconsciousness.”

At this, Thaniel looked up from the hand he was opening and closing as if it might suddenly contain the answers to the mysteries of the universe – or at least the school. “Can you hurt yourself? Or…or other people?”

Isidor took another step away, glancing behind him toward the dining room doorway. There was no one else around now. No one except the smiling faces in the portraits. Pandy still wondered who they all were, and perhaps most especially who the grumpy old man was in the painting Thaniel had described. She couldn’t see it from here, and she wondered how she had missed it when she had hopped up to the chancellor’s office. To be fair, she had been distracted that morning.

“You can hurt yourself or someone else any number of ways,” Isidor said matter-of-factly. “Stab them with a sword, trip over them in the dark, steal their food so they go hungry.” His expression went dark at this, then settled back into his usual abstracted air. “Make sure you keep the right picture in your mind, and make it small.” He gave a little smile. “Mrs. Farrier will teach you a spell or two, if you ask her. They use them all the time in the Valley.”

Thaniel brightened. “Does Bing know some, then?”

“I’m sure he does,” Isidor said, then turned away and flipped a wave over his shoulder as his long – for a six-year-old – legs carried him away.

Thaniel looked down at Pandy, and if it was possible, he was even more excited than he had been earlier. “I can do it, Bunny,” he told her, grinning until both dimples appeared in his little round cheeks. “I can put away those old books. And do the other things I’m supposed to be able to do, too.”

Pandy stretched up, resting her paws on his shoulders, and pressed her soft nose to his chin. Thaniel giggled, and Pandy wiggled her whiskers. <You can do it,> she thought. <You can do anything.>

It took her a moment to realize that Thaniel had stopped laughing, and when she backed up enough to look up at him, it was to see his eyes wide and fixed on her. “Did you…say something, Bunny?” he asked, then glanced around, eyeing the smiling portraits with a suspicious gaze. Leaning closer, he murmured, “It was real quiet, and I couldn’t understand it. Not quite. But I think…I think it was something really nice.”

He cradled her against his chest with a gentleness that was usually absent from his hugs. He was a child of brilliant joy and hidden sorrows, but he often forgot that Pandy wasn’t a stuffed animal that could be tossed around. This probably wasn’t helped by the fact that he could actually throw her around, and she never seemed to be hurt.

Thaniel practically ran to the library, only to find the door closed. It was usually open, at least when the library was open, but sometimes someone closed it behind them without thinking about it, so Thaniel just reached out and grabbed the doorknob, only to yank his hand back with a yelp. Pandy twisted so she could look down at the knob, only to find it looking back.

The eye was unmistakable. A pale silver blue, it blinked once, then again, and when it opened next, the lids had become thin lips that parted to show slightly too-sharp teeth. “Blackwood,” it said, in Professor Beeswick’s airy voice, and then it faded away, leaving Thaniel and Pandy staring at what looked like a perfectly normal brass knob.

Thaniel whirled and ran back the way he’d come.