Of Caverns and Casters ✓ [TLRQ #1]

Chapter 43 - Aster

Markus shakes his head.

It makes some sense; the materials are expensive, and I've heard of people getting sick and even dying from using poor quality powder. It would be hard for it to be a common practice in such a remote place, especially this close to Kadran, a country of barbarians who detest magic. Still, at least Markus and his daughter believe it. Leavi and Sean's total dismissal of the practice confounds me.

I slip the cube back into my cloak as Markus takes Zena off to bed. From the corner of my eye, I notice Leavi standing nearby, watching me. She approaches, sitting in front of me on the floor. "How did you do that?"

"Magic," I reply simply. "How else would I have?"

"Science?" she says like it's obvious.

I chuckle. "Theories and predictions? While helpful, I'm not sure I could science the block different colors." I smile good-naturedly.

She seems shocked. "I can think of at least three ways to do it right now."

"Really? Are you a scholar?" Out this far in the middle of nowhere, it's surprising that she would have a good enough education to be.

She laughs. "If, ah"—she mimes reading a book—"studying my whole life is being a 'scholar,' then yes."

"Where did you study? Bedeveir?"

"No. Draó." Her words are too quick.

She's lying. "That's impressive. I've never heard of such a well-studied institution in Draó. Where is it?"

"North."

Smiling, I press, "You can't really get much more north without hitting wasteland."

"Weren't we talking about something else?" She picks the blackwood bowl up, catching my eyes as she holds it in the air.

Curiosity burns inside me at whatever she's hiding—and a little fear. Why would she hide where she's from? What does that mean?

But I know I'm not going to get any more information out of her right now, so I nod. "That's a blackwood bowl. It helps with many spells."

She runs her fingers along the wood, tapping different spots as she inspects it. "How does it really work?"

I ignore the disbelief. "Blackwood has strong magic-affecting properties. Too much dampens the magic, but a little, like this," I say, tapping the bowl, "makes many spells much easier to cast."

"It is also conveniently"—she holds it up over her eyes—"not clear." Beneath the bowl, a smile twitches up.

My eyebrows draw together. "What does that have to do with anything?"

She moves the bowl away from her face, teasing smile broadening. "Because you can't see the—" She gestures, looking for the right word.

"Cube?"

She nods. "You can't see the cube during the..." She hesitates, then says with mild distaste, "Spell."

I pause, unsure how to reply. "I'm afraid I don't see what difference it makes."

She shrugs. "All magic is—" She stops, a frustrated expression flashing over her face before she pulls some folded-up papers out of her pocket and flips through them. She seems to find what she's looking for. "Trickery," she pronounces carefully. She looks back up at me, tucking the papers away.

I cock my head, interested. "What are those?"

"These?" She tugs them back out, and I nod. "My notes," she says, passing them to me. "To study Avadelian."