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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "What Are Little Girls Made Of?"  "Are you ordering the pizza now?" Vidya eagerly asks as you pick up your phone. "Yes. Do you and Punthali want your usual?" She nods. "Are you going to watch the movie with us?" "I have lesson plans to prepare." "School work or—?" She bounces excitedly on her toes. "Math, English, and science." Her expression sours. "I wish you'd watch the movie with us instead," she grumbles. * * * * * Your work as a teacher occupies the balance of the evening. When the movie is over you send the girls to bathe while you pick up the living room; and when they are dressed in casual pajamas you summon them for their nightly meditation exercise. You watch Vidya carefully. Though she is the elder of the two, she has no more training than Punthali, and hasn't the powers of concentration that Punthali does. (And Punthali, as an adept of Lurga, has a more natural talent for it.) Though she is often able to enter the trance state without trouble, she does struggle at times, and you are curious to see if Muniz will have more trouble than usual. Not that you are going to make it easy on him. "Do you need a countdown?" you ask as they settle on the floor. "It is an aid to learning, but can be a crutch if not discarded." They exchange a worried glance, and Punthali mutters a few anxious words to Vidya, who answers her. "Punthali wants one," she tells you. "But I think she's scared you'll be mad." You turn to the small one with a grave smile. "I will not be mad," you assure her. "But you must soon try without one." From her expression—relief tinged with a little fear—you sense that she has understood you. "Very well," you continue in a stronger voice, and begin the familiar routine. "Eyes shut on five." You illustrate with splayed fingers, and by shutting your own eyes. "Center on four. Salute your }ousiarch on three, genuflect on two, and depart on one. Ready?" Punthali straightens up very smartly. "Five, four, three, two, one." And her chin droops to her breastbone. But Vidya is still alert. "Yes, child?" you prompt her. For a moment you think that Muniz is going to break character, for she turns bright eyes on you. And as she hesitates, it looks as though she is weighing whether it is safe to speak frankly. But when she does speak, it is to ask, "Can I try it without a countdown?" "Certainly." "I didn't want to ask in front of Punthali." "I understand." She straightens herself, takes a deep breath, and closes her eyes. But then her eyes pop open again. "Am I doing good, Kali?" "At your training? Yes." "Because I don't have any prodigies yet." "We've talked about this. We don't know that you don't. Your quick wit may be taken as one." "Pff. Punthali can bring her statues to life, Kali, and she could do that even before—!" "Your sister can imbue her sculptures with temporary animation. That is not the same thing as 'bringing them to life'." "You know what I mean! When will—?" "I thought you wanted to try meditating without a countdown." She sighs. "Maybe I'm not trying hard enough? Maybe if I do harder work, it'll be like growing my muscles?" "You wish more challenging work? I can oblige you. I doubt the results will be what you desire. Exercise develops and refines, it rarely brings forth—" "But Punthali can—!" "And she had no training before she learned how to. You see how tenuous that connection is." "Alright," she groans. "But—" "But me no buts. You wish a challenge? Join your ousiarch without a countdown." She makes a face as she deflates, then rallies. Again, she straightens, takes a deep breath, and closes her eyes. And again, she breaks her pose. "Kali—" "You are procrastinating, child," you growl. Again, she sighs and deflates, then rallies. But this time she shows a troubled brow. So you are not surprised when she sags and murmurs, "Maybe you'd better give me a countdown too. Tomorrow, I'll try doing it tomorrow." "Very well. Tell me what you will do, and in what order." You raise your splayed hand. "Close my eyes on five," she recites tonelessly. "Center on four. Salute on three, genuflect on two, depart on one." "Good. Now five ... four ... three ... two ... one." A brief struggle plays over her face; her eyes shift under their lids; her chin remains upright. But after a moment, her head lolls to the side, then her chin plunges to her breastbone. She breathes deeply and peacefully. You watch her and Punthali carefully for a few moments, then close your own eyes and instantly plunge into a twilight reverie far away from where your body rests. * * * * * The next morning you take the girls to church, not because the religious services are part of their training, but because Kali rarely leaves them unsupervised in the apartment, and because the atmosphere of a worship service is (she believes) conducive to the more general training she gives them. Punthali takes readily to these expeditions, listening with particular reverence to the hymns (though she doesn't join in), and even paying close attention to the sermons even though it is clear she doesn't understand more than a few words from them. Vidya, by contrast, must strain not to fidget; and her expression is that of a girl who is a million miles away. Afterward, back at the apartment, you fix lunch while releasing them to work on "art projects." This is another form of study, though a much looser, self-directed one. As Vidya mentioned last night, Punthali has already manifested one remarkable prodigy: the ability the create sculptures and imbue them with animation. The results are clumsy and a little horrifying when the sculptures are poorly constructed—you could shudder at the memory of a clay spider that flopped about like a disembodied hand—but they rarely turn out badly. Their animation is only temporary, though it can be long-lasting, and once it "dies" it cannot be reanimated. For this reason she keeps only a handful of her best toys as mementos; the rest are recycled into the clay supply. Just as often, though, she contents herself with watercolors, and there too she shows a preternatural skill, though merely an artistic one. She is uncommonly fond of sunrises and sunsets, and of rivers and lakes and pools. What is most striking about them is their sense of stillness. Though they are pastoral scenes rather than portraits, they have a quality that reminded Kali of Vermeer: they give the impression of a moment that has been suspended in time, into which one might step and tranquilly dwell. On more than one occasion Kali caught herself in a reverie out of which she had to snap while perusing some of Punthali's work—and she has wondered if they might represent the action of a very subtle prodigy and not a mere quality of the art. Punthali's ousiarchs are Perelandra and Lurga (Venus and Saturn), but Vidya's are Viritrilbia and Kenandandra (Mercury and Pluto). As she complained last night, she has no prodigies yet as Punthali has, but her planets are clearly manifested in her talent for mechanical construction. So where Punthali works in paints and clay, Vidya works with Lego blocks, and is astonishingly quick at making complex constructions, and even more skilled at making working machines—clocks and such. Prodigies rarely repeat exactly when a new Stellae is born with the same ousiarchs as a previous one, but they sometimes do, and you wonder if Vidya might not in fact manifest something like Punthali's "animation" prodigy, only with mechanical objects rather than artistic creations. At the very least, you would predict that she will be able to create "animatronics" with very lifelike qualities. * * * * * Late that afternoon you get a call from Gabriel, informing you that London wants to speak to you remotely on a video hookup. You tell the girls—who are still playing—that you have to run a short errand and will be back within the hour. "What's up?" you ask Gabriel on entering his apartment. "Big boss wants to talk," he says, "I guess just to check in. Or," he adds in a much lower voice, "because Plante's been complaining." "The fuck has the elf got to bitch about?" "He's going stir-crazy." You sigh and let Gabriel—who might be Liu or might be Cox or might be White—lead you into an office. There you settle at a desk twice as large as your own, in a chair twice as deep and comfortable, and wait for the call to come in on the giant monitor. "Good evening, Ms. Valentine," the professor greets you with a plump smirk when his pale, bony visage appears onscreen. "May I offer you my compliments." "Why thank you, professor!" You smile in character. "And you have mine." Actually, you feel a thrill of loathing. You've never much liked Hyde-White, and Kali's instincts, shivering just beneath your own, recoil from him. "Have you anything to report? I understand you have made one further infiltration, of one of your students?" "That is correct." "And do you anticipate an infiltration of the other student? Or of other colleagues?" You hesitate. "I do not wish to move more quickly than is prudent," you confess. "But yes, there are other opportunities, which perhaps ought to be grasped." "Oh?" Malaika, you think to yourself. Does Fane know she exists, or who she is? But you decide not to mention her. "Two colleagues will be arriving shortly, to confer with a third. They are to receive instructions for a mission. A fairly important mission, I deem, if it is to employ two of them." "Do we know who those colleagues are?" "Frank Durras and Miko Toyotomi. They are Malacandrans. The warrior caste." "Ah!" The professor's eye turns inward. "Do you think that we should infiltrate one or both of these? You have the manpower." Actually, you only have one to spare if you are to leave Gabriel and Daniel in circulation. That would leave only one to infiltrate, either Punthali or one of the others. Next: "The Third in the Trap" |
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