interesting spells.
By midafternoon, servants had moved Arram’s trunks and books to his new home in the next wing to the north, closer to the library and classroom wings. Even on the ground floor, students slept only four to a room, not twenty-six. Most of the residents were teenagers hoping to move to the Upper Academy within the next year.
For now, Arram’s room was shared by only one other person. His roommate plainly came from moneyed people; that much was visible in the fine wood and lacquered finish of the bow and quiver that hung by his window, accompanied by a good sword in a sheath studded with topazes. The boots tucked under his bed were nearly new, well-stitched leather with a glossy polish. Not only did this fellow possess a trunk made of fine teak, but beside the window was a matching cabinet. Arram dared a peek behind the wall that separated their cubicles – the desk matched the trunk and the cabinet, as did the chair. All four pieces had been carved by a master’s hand. His envy over the furniture vanished when he saw the contents of the three shelves over the desk. This boy left his schoolbooks there. The books on the shelves were very different, showing none of the battering and spots on the school volumes. Arram spotted Si-Cham’s Principles of Consistency and Edo Clopein’s Quick Defence, bound in fine leather with gold trim. Other classics, nearly as fresh as the day they’d been printed, occupied the shelves. His fingers twitched with greed; he actually whimpered.
Someone tapped on the outer door, and he jerked back into his own cubicle. He didn’t want his new roommate to think he was a snoop. ‘It’s open,’ he called, his voice squeaking.
‘I can see it’s open,’ Sebo called. ‘Come out here and meet someone.’
Her purpose, Arram quickly learned, was to introduce the floor’s housekeeper to her newest charge. ‘This is Irafa,’ Sebo informed him with considerable pleasure. ‘You are to do precisely as she says, understand?’
Arram looked up at the housekeeper and gulped. Irafa was tall and imperious, dressed in the red-on-red headcloth and wrapped dress of the northwestern Oda tribe. She smiled at him with satisfaction. ‘Say thank you to Master Sebo,’ she said. ‘And be sure you do your bed up properly every morning, because I will check it.’
Arram bowed to Irafa and to Sebo, then retreated to his cubicle. He would have to wait to see how far he could open his window. In the meantime, he began to make up his bed. All was not yet lost. Tucked among his belongings was another small volume he had bought on a rare visit to the city’s markets, one titled On Coming and Going by Rosto Cooper the Younger. He had already successfully worked two of the spells for walking around the campus without being seen. He slid it under his mattress as he made his bed, reminding himself to find a better place before the housekeeper’s morning inspection.
He was pleased with his situation. His window commanded a view of a broad kitchen garden, and the ledge was low enough that hopping out would be easy. The scent of new herbs freshened the room when he left the shutters open.
He was arranging his books when someone else knocked politely on the open door.
Not only did the lovely Varice stand on his threshold, but she had a friend with her. The friend looked to be as old and as pale as the girl, and he was a couple of inches taller. Like most Carthakis, he wore a calf-length tunic, though he had skipped the shoulder drape due to the heat. The white cotton was embroidered at the hem, collar, and sleeves with green signs for health, protection, and wisdom. For adornment he had gold studs on his sandals, three gold rings on his fingers, and gold and gem earrings. His glossy brown hair was tied back in a horsetail. Just as Arram looked him over, he did the same, inspecting the younger, shorter boy from top to toe. His eyes were clear, straightforward, and curious.
Varice elbowed her companion. ‘I told you it was him.’ She smiled at Arram. ‘When they said a boy was being advanced, I told Ozorne, “Depend on it. That’s the one I met.” This is your new roommate, by the way. Ozorne Tasikhe, this is Arram Draper. Arram, this is my best friend, Ozorne.’
Ozorne offered his hand with a crooked smile. ‘How do you like the place? Unless Cosmas produces another child wonder, we should be safe with the whole thing to ourselves.’
‘I’m not a child wonder,’ Arram retorted, stung. ‘I’m eleven!’ Then he gulped, recognizing the name. This was the member of the imperial family called the leftover prince. He had just snapped at the emperor’s nephew!
Ozorne’s crooked smile changed into a real one. ‘Are you? And I am thirteen, and Varice is twelve and a half. We shall take the world by storm, see if we don’t.’
Varice sat cross-legged on one of the empty beds across from Arram’s, while Ozorne dragged his desk chair over and slouched in it, smiling. ‘You’ll get used to her,’ he told Arram, who sat gingerly on his own bed. ‘Once she’s decided you’ll be her friend, she assumes command.’
Varice sniffed at him. ‘You’ve never complained.’ To Arram she said, ‘Ozorne and I are in the same classes most of the time. We’ve been friends for two years, I think.’
‘So, what horrible thing did you do to end up in classes with us?’ Ozorne asked. ‘Varice said I had to hear it straight from you.’
Arram gulped. ‘I flooded my classroom.’ He got to his feet and looked out the window. ‘I didn’t do it on purpose! It just happened …’ He faced the two older students again. ‘I still don’t understand why Master Cosmas is promoting me instead of sending me home.’
Ozorne smiled. ‘What was my misdeed, Varice?’
The girl tapped her forefinger against her chin. ‘We were in one master’s gardens, stealing cherries, and you saw a bird you didn’t recognize. You called to it, and called, and – well, I saw a great flood of your Gift roll from your hand, and the next thing I knew, the garden and every tree and plant in it was covered in birds! And then the master came, the one who managed the garden. He wanted us thrown out of the school for its ruin, because the birds refused to leave. I was laughing so hard I was crying by then, and Ozorne wasn’t even listening because he was able to hold any bird he wanted …’
‘All I had to do was point and call, and the bird would come to sit on my hand,’ Ozorne said, dreamy-eyed. ‘Even the hawks!’
Arram sat back down on his bed, fascinated. ‘I’ve never heard of such a thing. In The Magic of Birds by Ayna Wingheart, she writes that the magical nature of birds is such that only the most powerful mages can control more than ten or so, and that even she could handle no more than twenty-three or twenty-four at a time.’
Ozorne smiled at him. ‘What’s this? A fellow bird scholar?’
Arram chuckled and drew a pattern on the coverlet. ‘Oh, no, it’s just for fun. I can’t say I’ve studied.’
Ozorne got to his feet. ‘Well, study or no, let’s have a look at the bird enclosures in the menagerie! Varice?’
She stood and shook out her skirts. ‘I never turn down a visit to the menagerie.’
The two older students were at the door when they stopped to look back. ‘Aren’t you coming?’ Ozorne asked.
‘I wasn’t sure you meant it,’ Arram explained.
‘Anyone Varice likes is fine with me,’ Ozorne said. ‘And you still didn’t tell me how you flooded your class, the Gift of it. We’ve both done that stupid spell, but we didn’t get those results!’
When she saw Arram had a tendency to lag behind, Varice tucked her arm in his and forced him to keep up. To his delight, Arram discovered that the students who cared for the menagerie animals were well acquainted with his companions. Ozorne in