July 12 / Hierschtan 20

  “Susan, can you come help me with something?” Aunt Fiona asked the fourteen-year-old. “I need some stuff from the basement.”

  “Sure, Auntie. I’m almost to a save point. Can you give me five?”

  “I can play it for you!” Agatha peered over the back of the couch. “I’m good at Rocket Racer 5!”

  “Quit hanging off the edge of the couch like that, Ags!” Sue half snapped. “You’ll break it.”

  “No, I won’t I’m not as heavy as you.” She stuck out her tongue and ran away, braids snapping in the air as she beat a hasty retreat upstairs. Sue threw a pillow at her. She was sensitive about her weight.

  “Aunt Fiona, when did you start braiding Agatha’s hair like that?”

  “I’m not. I assumed you were doing it. If she’s already doing French braids so evenly, she may have a career as a beautician.”

  Standing, she brushed her red-gold hair over her shoulder and out of her face. “Let’s get started, Aunt Fiona!” she called up the stairs.

  “In a moment, dear.” Fiona descended, and the two went down into the basement. The first room held Alboim’s exercise equipment: a treadmill, simple weight rack, and his fencing gear. A shelf displayed his trophies, including last year’s state U-18 saber-fencing champion and the bronze from the year before. The rooms beyond were furnished with a pair of guest beds, and beyond that, the storage room.

  Fiona, however, stopped to sit on a bed. “Come here, honey.” She patted the spot next to her. “I have something to show you. Please don’t ask any questions until I reach the end.” Sue sat. “Your parents had a secret, one they decided not to burden you with until you came of age. I am breaking my promise to Brittany and Wilson because they could not have known that their enemies would pursue them after all this time.

  “‘Ixghel id-dawl.’” Fiona spoke the Words of Power Brittany had taught her twenty-five years ago. A blue-white light appeared, hovering inches above her outstretched palm.

  “The Summoned Mage Cycle is real.” She solemnly told the teen. “Your father wrote a sanitized history of his world. We, the Society that your parents belonged to, believe that Alboim was kidnapped and taken to Barugala.”

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  Susan realized that she was sitting there, gape-mouthed, and firmly shut her jaw. Mom and Dad were magicians? An Aunt Fiona of all people is too? Her mind boggled.

  “So Al is alive?” she asked hopefully.

  “He was when he was taken. I saw the film. The problem is we still have no idea why, so it is possible that they will want you, and Agatha as well. Agatha is too young for all this.”

  “And she won’t be able to keep it a secret.” Susan interrupted.

  A sigh from Aunt Fiona. “That is the unfortunate truth, so it falls on you. I am no good at Wilson’s way of using magic, and I am not great at Brittany’s, but I am better than nothing. I am going to teach you everything I know, then give you Brittany’s old data cube. She worked feverously over her last six months to finish her list of spells.”

  ~*** *** ***~

  July 20 / Hierschtan 30

  Dad had already started her on the breathing exercises, and Susan mastered touching her arwa, which she saw in shades of gold, amber, and copper forming around a dense ball of ahna, to her inner sight, in three days.

  “It took me almost four months, Sue,” Fiona told her with a rueful chuckle. Brittany always said you took after her the most, and her grandfather.”

  “Grandpatter in the books. Dad must have really wanted us to know more about Mom’s family. He had so many side stories of her telling the Companions about her life on the farm.”

  “And there were many more I made him cut out. I should get the file for you to read.”

  “You kept them?” Susan practically squealed. The stories often had amusing minor spells, and she was starting to learn the logic behind them. “I would love to see them!”

  “Later, love. For now, back to the task at hand.”

  They sat across from each other, cross-legged and eyes closed. “See your arwa, watch how it coils around your ahna. Now, will a single strand down, touching your ahna core. Lightly, gently, softly. Too much can drain or even shatter your core.

  “Now comes the most difficult part, Susan. While maintaining that thin connection, remember the spell we practiced, visualize what it is supposed to do, will your arwa around the spell, and encourage—do not force—your ahna to power the spell.”

  “Ixghel id-dawl.” Like a tiny prick of static electricity, she experienced something with all six senses, and opened her eyes.

  “Do not be alarmed if it does not work the first time, Susan.” Fiona still held her eyes closed in meditation. “It took me a week of-” she opened her eyes. “Oh.”

  The mage light in Susan’s hand shone like a lantern, pale violet.