Young Writers Society

Time turned on. Over the next week, Ayda settled into her routine of spending much of her waking hours pouring over old books in a cramped room, even as the summer heat began to set in. Late in the evening, when Cinder would finally call a halt, Ayda would dash upstairs and carve, at times touching up her contest piece, but also carving whatever came to mind. She didn’t see a lot of Madeline, but by the time she was free each evening, she was usually too exhausted to go looking for her.

Her parents’ letter arrived a few days after she was caught by Cinder, sitting on the desk in her room when she returned for the evening. Ayda had put off reading it for a whole day, but when she came in the next evening, she eyed the scroll, tied neatly with a blade of grass, sitting there pristine and foreboding. With a sigh, she untied and unfurled it to find her mother’s flowing script.

-

My dearest Ayda,

In hindsight, I should have realized you would try something like this, but Ayda, I am still disappointed. The letter came this morning and only now am I able to begin this response. Your father was furious when he realized you were gone. Even still, I can’t tell you how relieved I was when I received the Lord and Lady’s letter.

Relieved that you had not gotten lost or been harmed on the road, yes, but receiving the letter has raised more questions than it’s answered. Ayda, it said nothing. That you are safe but involved in something secret is all I know. Whatever it is, Ayda, why did you not come to us first?

But what’s done is done. They promise you’re safe, but I’m still wild with speculation and yes, worry. Be careful, Ayda. I do hope you were able to enter the contest. Write back and tell me as much as you can.

I won’t lie to you — we’re no closer to leaving then we were when you left us. I am sure you know already, but the rumors of rogue Shades were true. Yesterday, a band attacked Millfield and Crowbrook, and now everyone is in a panic. If they come here, we can drive them off, but try telling that to those who are already thinking of fleeing.

But something is bound to turn up, and I only hope you’ll be allowed to come home before we leave. Don’t worry about us. Stay focused on your work, and do remember to write.

Your loving mother

-

Her father was angry. Her mother was disappointed. Ayda let out another sigh. About what she’d expected, and they were still stuck in Nikka. She set the letter back down on the desk, watching as it curled up at the ends. She opened the drawer, hand hovering over a sheet of parchment.

Then Ayda dropped her hand and closed the drawer with a snap. The room was stiflingly hot and the thick air pressed in from all sides. She glanced over at the carving of the Shade, sitting proudly on the dresser. What more could she do with it? The sight of her tools brought no wish to carve tonight.

Madeline. It was high time she sought out her friend.

-

Once Ayda remembered Madeline’s room number, the girl’s room was easy to find. Ayda knocked on the door when she reached it.

“Come in.” Madeline’s voice was quiet.

Ayda heaved the door open, a feat only possible because the door had been designed to be light enough for Little Folk to move. “It’s me. How has training with Xaniphe been?”

Madeline looked just as tired as Ayda felt. Clearly the centaur was working her as hard as Cinder pushed Ayda. The girl moved slowly as she settled back onto the bed, but she was smiling. “I have so much to show you.”

She fumbled in a pouch around her waist — that was new — and pulled out a large stone that glowed with light brighter than any firemoss. Ayda blinked rapidly, eyes watering at the sudden brightness. “What is that?”

“This was my first permanent talisman,” Madeline said, running her fingers along it gently. Ayda could hear a touch of pride in her voice.

“Talisman? Cinder mentioned they had something to do with human magic.” They were also one of the things Ayda was supposed to look for in her reading.

Madeline almost laughed. “Human magic is talisman magic. We’re sure of it. It’s what the books say, and everything I’ve been able to do leads back to talismans.”

She fingered the necklace she still wore. “It’s funny, isn’t it? All the stories, all those good-luck charms… everyone back home thinks magical objects were just superstition, but they were always real. And now I can make them!”

“But how does it work?” pushed Ayda. “What exactly can you do?”

“We don’t know everything yet,” Madeline said. “Xaniphe found some books that mention a few things, but we’re doing a lot of experimentation. For this one, I just made the pattern with my magic, then pushed it in the stone and secured it.”

“Why a stone?”

“Oh, the books say stones are good for practical, low-level talismans. So are wooden buttons, but since those were once alive they’re also better for talismans that affect living things. If it’s something big, though, it’s better if the object is special to you in some way, or more closely related to what you’re trying to do.”

Ayda shifted to her magical vision and flew over to Madeline, squinting as she tried to see the magic in the stone. “Can’t you turn that light off?”

“Uh, yes,” said Madeline, putting her hand on the stone for a moment. The glow faded to nothing. Now Ayda could see Madeline’s magic curling inside, dormant but set in its pattern. “I’ve made it so anyone can turn it on or off if they’re touching it. You just have to feed it a bit of magic.”

Ayda perched on the bed’s headboard, her mind already racing ahead. “So in the fight with the Shade, you somehow turned the stick into a talisman and it protected you?”

Madeline nodded. “Apparently ‘protect me’ is intuitive. It confused Xaniphe because it’s such a complicated command, but then I had to directly work the magic to make this.” She closed her hand over the stone and put it back in its pouch.

“We’re not sure why, but it’s actually easier for me to make a talisman with an abstract command or intent, like ‘protect me.’ I guess because even though those words are subjective, I infuse them with my own interpretation and the magic knows what I mean. A specific, concrete effect like emitting light is harder because I have to think about what light actually is. If you just picture the stone glowing, all you’ll end up with is an illusion of light, not the actual thing.”

“That makes sense, in a bit of a backwards way.” Something occurred to Ayda. “What about a good luck talisman? That’s subjective, so wouldn’t it be intuitive?”

Madeline shook her head. “I think so, but Xaniphe told me not to try. He said it would have to physically change too many things in too many ways. I wouldn’t be able to make it powerful enough.

“But going non-intuitive makes lots of things difficult. Like healing talismans. If you don’t actually know what needs to be fixed in the body, the talisman will make the person feel well, but they’ll still be dying. You have to understand the disease and the specific parts of the body to target — ”

She broke off, looking down as if defeated. “It’s just so complicated.”

Why was she so downcast? Ayda frowned. “Other species don’t have to do that sort of thing. Unicorn magic heals, and it’s supposed to be completely intuitive.”

“Really?” Madeline seemed to perk up.

“Well, that’s what they say. It’s not like most people have ever seen a unicorn. They’ve been reclusive for centuries. But I mean, even I can heal a small plant — we call it cleansing, since the magic sort of sweeps away the impurities, the stuff that doesn’t belong.”

“Can you show me? Show me the pattern you use to do it?” Madeline asked.

“Why?”

“I’m just curious,” Madeline insisted, but she was touching her necklace again.

Ayda gave up and shook her head. “I haven’t practiced working active magic at all. I don’t think I could make the right pattern, especially since I’m not going to actually use it. If I could find a sick plant here — and the plants here are the healthiest I’ve ever seen — I’d do it intuitively, but it would happen too quickly for you to see much.”

“You need a teacher,” said Madeline.

Ayda just shrugged. It seemed like everyone was too busy with the Nadra crisis to justify the time it would take to teach her. “I can work it out myself. Or you could teach me. You know, since you’re practicing active magic so much.”

She meant it mostly in jest, but Madeline bit her lip, considering it. “If you wanted me to, I would do my best. I don’t know much about fairy magic, but I do have practice working directly with patterns.”

Ayda had been using magic for most of her fourteen years. Madeline had been using it for less than a month. But Madeline did have more experience than her when it came to active magic. “Alright,” Ayda finally said. “That could work. But for now, what other talismans have you made?”

Madeline showed her several more talismans. One glowed only when it was dark. Another imitated the sound of rushing water. A third radiated warmth. Of them, only the last one had been intuitive, and already its magic was starting to fade.

Slowly, they moved away from magical topics. Madeline began to tell Ayda about her world and its technological wonders, and from her descriptions of a device that sent your voice across the world to wagons that moved under their own power, Ayda couldn’t understand why the simple magics of the Kingdoms had been so wondrous to this human girl.