The Art of Imagination

Chapter 5

“Ingrid did not inform you of my visit, did she?” Matilda said dryly, shooting the young girl a disapproving stare. “Nevertheless, I suppose this was the only way.”

“Only way for what?” Tabitha eyed her aunt and her daughter in suspicion. “How did you get in contact with my daughter? I specifically instructed for her not to send any –”

“Mother, I would like to apply for Great Aunt Matilda’s Imaginist Academy,” Ingrid blurted out, unable to help herself. Her fingers were twiddling nervously with each other as she anticipated the older women’s reactions. “Please?”

A look of fury boiled across Tabitha’s delicate features. “You didn’t call Harry, did you? Oh, I should have known!” She seemed to speak the latter more to herself. “How could you disobey me like this? How can you still be so hopeful on this? I have told you many times over and over; no.”

“Mother!” Ingrid protested, feeling desperation leak into her tone. She turned to her Great Aunt, clasping her hands. “Aunt Matilda, you said you’d help me!”

“Auntie –”

“Tabitha, you cannot deny the girl’s abilities out of fear,” Matilda interjected, turning to her niece with a sharp gaze. “Her imagination is unbelievably powerful – didn’t I tell you that from the start? What will it take for you to realise that her best option is to come with me?”

“But you had no right to plan this behind my back!” Tabitha raised her voice, on the verge of shrieking. “Auntie, I respect imagination and the work you do for Imaginists but for mine and Leonard’s sake, please let this go! I will not have my daughter gallivanting about, constantly exposed to danger and bad influences –”

“Stop it!” Ingrid shouted. Her anger burst at the seams and her vision flashed red. The abrupt silence of the women was instantly followed by the explosion of the window, scattering its contents across the floor. Ingrid threw her arms up protectively, seeing her mother do the same out of the corner of her eye.

Surprisingly enough, the force hadn’t thrown shards of glass upon them. Ingrid slowly lowered her arms to find Matilda with a raised hand, as if she were silencing somebody. Her palm faced the ruptured window, an invisible wall protecting the three from harm’s way. Ingrid could still feel a slight breeze wander in.

“This is what happens to untamed imagination, especially someone with as much raw talent as Ingrid.” Matilda lowered her hand and though she could not see it, Ingrid could almost feel the protective barrier vanishing into thin air. Perhaps it was some sort of Imaginist’s intuition.

On the carpet in the middle of the room, powdered glass and fragments littered the floor yet a long clear line had been drawn across the mess, separating the three women from the window. One side was glittered with dust, the other completely absent of such clutter. It came to Ingrid as a surprise when none of the maids burst in from hearing the noise. Maybe they’d thought one of the women had shattered a glass vase by mistake, even though the window noise was ten times louder than that.

“Ingrid only needs to picture something and she can make it come true,” Matilda explained, waving a hand dismissively to the floor.

As if on cue, the dust accumulated across the floor, gathering tightly until they were clear shards of glass. Other pieces that were still intact had started throwing themselves against the gaping hole of the window, seamlessly mending themselves back together in a succession of thwip! thwip! thwips! until finally, the window was as good as new. Ingrid marvelled at her Great Aunt’s imagination. How had she accomplished such a feat so effortlessly?

“But with the right tutelage and control, she can learn to protect herself much better than whatever you can offer.”

Disbelief flickered through Tabitha’s eyes, rather offended at the claim. “I can give my daughter the best darn protection this world has to offer, thank you very much.”