The Master Magician (The Paper Magician Series Book 3) Read online

  Ceony paused, looked at her. “Oh, Zina, I can help you out with that. You just have to ask.”

  “I don’t need any debts to you.”

  Ceony resisted rolling her own eyes and continued walking. “We all need help once in a while. And if I pass my magician’s test, I will have the means to help you financially. The rest is up to you.”

  “I don’t want handouts.”

  “Then sell something and pay me back. Accept a little help from your family, Zina. I doubt you want to spend the rest of your life inside a saloon next to someone who manhandles women.”

  Zina sighed. “Carl is an idiot.”

  “See? We’re already becoming more agreeable with each other.”

  Despite the tension, Zina laughed, though it was a somewhat bitter sound. They walked in silence for a moment longer before Zina said, “I just need to find some old rich man to marry.”

  “And that’s not a handout?”

  Her sister smirked. “To suffer through a marriage like that? I’d be earning my allowance.”

  That made Ceony pause again. “I know someone who might appreciate you. Your art, at least.”

  Another eye roll. “Got another Folder up your sleeve?”

  Ceony thought of Emery’s first apprentice, Langston. “Well, yes, actually. But I won’t introduce him to someone who smells like a saloon and who doesn’t respect herself.”

  Zina pulled away from her, brows drawn together again. “I respect myself just fine.”

  “Then act like it, Zina.”

  Her sister opened her mouth to retort, but Ceony pulled her into a hug before she could speak. “I believe in you,” she said into Zina’s tobacco-scented hair. “Believe in yourself. I’ll see you at my announcement?”

  Pulling back, Zina studied Ceony’s eyes. “So sure you’ll pass, eh?”

  Ceony smiled. “When one believes in oneself, even the extraordinary is possible.”

  CHAPTER 18

  THIRTEEN DAYS AFTER her battle with Saraj and twelve days after her confession to Mg. Aviosky, Ceony stood in a short corridor in the Ministry of Licensing, in the wing devoted to the use of magic. She had at her side a giant tweed bag purchased to hold all fifty-eight of her handcrafted spells based off the list Mg. Bailey had given her. She had received no further instructions save that she was to bring the spells with her to the ministry. She wondered if they would be examined by a group of Folders for skill, or perhaps by other magicians who would judge her creativity. Perhaps it was merely a test of whether or not she had been able to complete the list. She might have to debate her reasoning for each spell. Emery had never encouraged her to study debate.

  She squeezed the handle of the bag, trying to ignore the moistness of her hands.

  A small, golden bell hanging over an unmarked door in the hallway rang—her signal that it was time to begin. With a deep breath, Ceony hefted her tweed bag and approached the door, turned the handle, and—

  She paused when the doorknob stuck. She twisted it again, back and forth, but it didn’t budge. The door was locked.

  She glanced up at the bell and felt a flush creep up her neck. Swallowing against a dry throat, she lifted her hand and gently rapped on the door.

  Nothing happened. No voices or noises of any sort came from within, though Ceony knew both Mg. Aviosky and Mg. Bailey were inside. She’d seen them enter herself. She rapped again, only to be met with silence. She twisted the doorknob. Locked.

  Then it dawned on her. Though Mg. Bailey’s list was stowed in her skirt pocket, she easily remembered the first item on it: Something to open a door. Was this part of the test, then?

  Ceony fished through her bag for the skeletal arm she’d crafted and held it to the doorknob, only to freeze when the paper fingers were a centimeter away.

  “Something to open a locked door, Mg. Bailey?” she asked, blood draining from her face. Despite her flawless memory, Ceony dug the list out of her pocket and reread the first task: #1. Something to open a door. It said nothing about it being locked. Had the Folder purposely left off such a critical element for the sake of revenge on Emery?

  Her breath quickened. She stared at the doorknob. Surely she wouldn’t fail her test before it even started!

  “Breathe,” she told the arm, and she held it to the doorknob, but the lock was nothing magical and her spell couldn’t open it. She pulled the arm away, the fingers of its hands wriggling like an overturned beetle’s legs.

  Tears welled in her eyes. Surely if she showed them the list . . . but they wouldn’t even talk to her through the door. Would she really have to walk back down the corridor in shame, her bag of paper spells in tow? She had no other spells to Fold . . . nothing that would open this bloody door!

  Ceony grit her teeth. No, she wouldn’t fail, not after everything she’d been through. She would pass her magician’s test. She would be a Folder. She would see that smug look wiped off Mg. Bailey’s face when she opened this door if she had to break it down herself—

  She paused, studying the door. It had no locks besides the one in the knob. For a moment she was tempted to become a Smelter so she could use an unlocking spell, but she’d left her necklace with Mg. Aviosky. And it would be cheating anyway. Ceony Twill was no cheat.

  A simple lock. She could get past a simple lock; her old friend Anise Hatter had done it once at their junior academy when the principal ordered no desserts were to be served at lunch after discovering graffiti on his office window. Anise had broken into the cafeteria, and she and Ceony had eaten two pieces of cake each.

  Stepping back, Ceony began dismantling her enchanted arm, which broke the animation spell on its bones. She pulled a thin, rectangular piece of paper from below the wrist and, with a “Stiffen” command, wedged it between the door and the doorjamb. She shimmied the paper down until it hit the knob’s latch. Sawing the paper back and forth, she wriggled it under the latch and, with a clipped sigh of relief, pushed the door open.

  Bright afternoon sunlight poured through window blinds, illuminating the rectangular room, which measured smaller than Ceony had imagined. It had unpolished wooden floorboards and sand-colored walls, undecorated save for a large, clean chalkboard on the wall with the door. The only furniture in the room was the long table across from the chalkboard, behind which sat Mg. Bailey, Mg. Aviosky, and two men Ceony didn’t know.

  Mg. Aviosky stood and gestured to the two men. “Miss Twill, this is Magician Reed, the headmaster of the Tagis Praff School for the Magically Inclined. He is a Polymaker.”

  The man, who was gravely overweight and wore a thick, white mustache, nodded his head. So this was Mg. Aviosky’s replacement at the school.

  “And this is Magician Praff, nephew of Tagis Praff,” she said, gesturing to the second, younger man. He looked to be about Emery’s age and had a very straight nose and kind eyes. “He too is a Polymaker, and is attending this testing as a witness.”

  Ceony offered a small curtsy and a nod, since it didn’t seem appropriate to march over and shake their hands. “The pleasure is mine,” she said.

  Mg. Aviosky sat down and read a paper set before her, pursing her lips. After a few seconds, she said, “A . . . creative way to complete your first task, Miss Twill, but I’m not entirely sure it counts.”

  Ceony stared at Mg. Bailey and said, “I believe the request was for something, not a spell specifically. Correct?” Fight this and I’ll show the others your lack of specifics on the paper you gave me, she thought. She prayed none of the other tasks had been similarly abridged.

  The slightest twinge touched the corner of Mg. Bailey’s mouth. The inkling of a smile, perhaps? “Correct,” the Folder agreed. “If you’ll continue to item number two, Miss Twill, we will proceed.”

  Ceony nodded and tugged her large bag into the room, letting the door close behind her. She moved to the center of the room, backdropped by the chalkboard, and pulled a paper crane from the top of her pile of spells. #2. Something that breathes. The first Folding spell sh
e had ever learned.

  She passed that task easily. Her spell for the third item, Something to tell a tale, also dated back to her first days as an apprentice. After her visit with Mg. Aviosky two weeks ago, Ceony had returned to the cottage with Emery to collect the children’s book Pip’s Daring Escape. She now read the story in its entirety, and the four magicians across from her watched the ghostly images of a gray mouse dance before them. Mg. Reed seemed especially entertained, which bolstered Ceony’s confidence in her solution to item number four: Something that sticks.

  Ceony laid out four bearing squares on the floor, the same she had used when decorating Mrs. Holloway’s living room for her husband’s celebration party. While she had been tempted to use the squares to hang a dunce sign on the back of Mg. Bailey’s shirt, something as critical as her magician’s test required a certain level of politeness. Instead, she used the squares to stick a paper doll of herself to the chalkboard, which also completed task number five: Something that copies.

  The magicians remained silent save for the occasional “Please continue” or “Go on” from Mg. Bailey, though after the first dozen spells, he merely nodded or gestured with a hand for her to continue. It seemed Mg. Bailey had also determined the test required a certain level of politeness.

  On Ceony worked.

  She displayed her blind box for item fourteen, Something to hide the truth, and a “Conceal” spell for item fifteen, Something to hide yourself, to which Mg. Reed commented, “Good show.” To Ceony’s relief, she did not have to make item twenty-four, Something to cross a river, actually cross a river. Mg. Bailey simply stood from his chair, walked over to her Folded boat, and inspected it. A simple “hmm” from his lips indicated it passed inspection, and she moved on.

  Despite having her spells premade, Ceony found the time dragging. The room bore no clock, but she checked the windows after every spell to see how the sunlight had moved behind the blinds. She shook out the front of her blouse as she reached for her thirty-seventh spell, Something to defend against a tramp, in an attempt to cool her skin. She didn’t dare break the silence of her test to request that the magicians open a window.

  After encircling her “Enlarge” chain spell around her torso, Ceony retrieved a “Ripple” spell from her tweed bag. The commands “Enlarge” and “Ripple” grew her to ten feet and distorted the room enough that Mg. Praff cried out for Ceony to stop, which she did immediately.

  A nod from Mg. Bailey allowed her to bring forth her next spell.

  Her forty-fourth spell, the flying starlights, managed to impress the impermeable Mg. Aviosky, whose eyes widened in childlike delight once Mg. Bailey closed the blinds and the starlights began to glow. For item forty-five, A way to be in two places at once, Ceony defaulted to her paper doll.

  Mg. Bailey frowned and folded his arms. “You cannot use the same spell for two different tasks, Miss Twill.”

  Ceony’s heart missed a beat. Her tongue went dry, and she had to swish it around in her mouth before croaking, “Wh-What?”

  The Folder leaned forward. “You cannot use the same spell. You’ve already showcased the paper doll. If you do not have an alternative solution, I will end the examination.”

  Taking a deep breath and trying to keep her voice level, Ceony said, “I don’t recall that requirement being in the rules, Magician Bailey.”

  The Folder’s face remained unchanged. “It’s there, Miss Twill.”

  “Is it?” Mg. Praff asked. The two, simple words sparked some hope within Ceony. She was so close to finishing. She couldn’t flunk now!

  Ceony glanced at Mg. Aviosky, meeting her eyes. If I were a Gaffer, I could be in two places at once, she thought. She wondered if Mg. Aviosky could read her thoughts, for a knowing smile touched her lips.

  It vanished quickly. Mg. Aviosky pulled out a briefcase hidden behind her chair and opened it. She filed through the papers within until she pulled forth a booklet, which she then thumbed through without comment. The silence of the room pressed on Ceony from all sides. She reminisced traveling through the tight, hot valves of Emery’s heart. This felt very much the same.

  Mg. Aviosky’s voice severed the quiet. She read from the booklet: “An apprentice cannot use the same prepared spell for two consecutive tasks. The perpetration of this will terminate the test.”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Twill,” Mg. Bailey said.

  Ceony’s heart splattered onto the floor.

  “Don’t be, Magician Bailey,” Mg. Aviosky said. “The rule book says ‘consecutive.’ These two tasks are more than a dozen list numbers apart. Therefore, the paper doll is eligible.”

  Ceony’s eyes widened and her hands flew to her heart. She bit down a loud Thank you! that threatened to break her teeth.

  Mg. Bailey frowned all the deeper. “You realize that a simple reordering of the list would make the doll unusable, yes?”

  “One does not simply ‘reorder’ the test list, Magician Bailey,” Mg. Aviosky said, placing the booklet back in her briefcase. “It has a set order determined by the Supreme Council of Magic. If you truly believe Miss Twill deserves to fail, you’ll have to send your request for reversal to them.”

  Ceony felt a drop of sweat trace a path down her backbone.

  The frown engraved itself onto Mg. Bailey’s features, but he nodded for Ceony to continue.

  Ceony moved through her last spells with renewed energy, sprinting at the end of the marathon in a desperate attempt to reach the finish line before Mg. Bailey could cut the ribbon ahead of her. She demonstrated a vitality chain, the “Shred” spell, the illusion spell she had created of the night sky, even a cardboard box used to keep food from spoiling. For #53. A means of escape, she threw down two handfuls of navy-blue concealing confetti. She felt her body warp before it reappeared behind the judging table.

  Finally, after what felt like hours, Ceony reached for the final spell in her bag, one that took up barely more space than her fist.

  She imagined task number fifty-eight had been meant as the most challenging, one intended to make the apprentice reflect on her years of training and ponder her future years as a magician. A means of living. Unspecific, yet inspiring. As a paper magician, she could easily have written an inspiring essay on how Folding had changed her life, how it would shape her career as a magician. She could have orchestrated an army of animated spells, creating a room full of magic-induced life. She could have created a wall-to-wall illusion grander than the junglescape in Mrs. Holloway’s mansion, displaying an abundance of wild, perceived life.

  But she hadn’t.

  She’d used the first idea to bloom in her mind upon reading the last task. She’d set it aside at first and pondered on more clever and striking things, but her thoughts always returned to this one, simple spell. She could defend it with pretty words and tear-filled emotions if need be, but with Mg. Aviosky on her panel of magicians, she doubted she’d need to utter a single syllable.

  Her fingers wrapped around the paper heart sitting in the corner of the tweed bag. She straightened and held it before her, cradled in both hands, and whispered, “Breathe.”

  The heart pumped softly in her hands, it’s PUM-Pom-poom rattling gently against her skin.

  A means of living. The greatest spell she had ever crafted.

  She said nothing. Even Mg. Aviosky didn’t offer an explanation, which made Ceony wonder how far word of Emery’s near demise had reached.

  Mg. Bailey stared at the beating heart in Ceony’s grasp.

  And smiled.

  CHAPTER 19

  “MAGICIAN ERNEST JOHNSON, Siper, District Four.”

  Ceony’s hands sweated beneath her white gloves. She wrung them together as she watched the newly appointed Siper, garbed in a black magician’s uniform, rise from two seats to her left and approach the podium on the other end of the stage, where Tagis Praff himself shook his hand and handed him a framed magician’s certificate. The audience that filled the Royal Albert Hall applauded, the noise sounding like crashi
ng ocean waves in Ceony’s ears. She could feel the stage shake with it.

  “Magician John Frederick Cobble, Smelter, District Three.”

  The words summoned the man sitting beside Ceony, dressed in the light-gray uniform of a metals magician. He left Ceony alone in a row of four chairs.

  She felt eyes on her but couldn’t see into the audience for the bright Pyre lights lining the stage. She knew where the watchers sat, though, having spied them from behind the red velvet curtains before the ceremony. Her mother, father, sisters, and brother occupied the second row in the middle set of seats. Emery sat beside Mg. Aviosky in the first row in the leftmost seats. She wondered what they thought of her, sitting up here.

  “Magician Ceony Maya Twill, Folder, District Fourteen.”

  Magician. The word expanded inside her, spreading a sugary warmth to her fingers and feet. Her legs, half-numb, managed to pick her up off her chair. Her white skirt fluttered about her ankles, and the silver buttons of her blazer glimmered in the enchanted light. She moved across the stage toward the podium that bore the magician’s seal on its face.

  Tagis Praff extended his hand. Ceony didn’t remember lifting hers to meet it, but suddenly the man’s fingers were clasped around hers. In his other hand he held a crisp white certificate, lined with gold leaf and signed in dark ink.

  Its printed letters read her name.

  Magician. She had finally made it.

  The applause sounded louder than before, as though it came from all sides. As though it poured from the ceiling and bubbled up from the floor. Ceony’s hand closed on the black frame embellishing her certificate. Magician Ceony Maya Twill, Folder, District Fourteen.

  She shook Tagis Praff’s hand with renewed vigor, blinking tears from her eyes.

  A few choice words from Tagis Praff closed the ceremony. The Pyre lights dimmed, and folk began to rise from their seats. Ceony hurried down the stage stairs. Her foot had not firmly touched the carpet before her father’s broad arms clasped about her. He swung her in a circle, laughing heartily in her ear.