“Where is she?” I ask when I get in the door.
“Your grandmother was on a schedule,” my mother informs me. Her tone is so frosty, that I wonder who is in trouble. “She left something for you,” she says with her arms folded across her chest. That’s not a good sign. I’d bet that we are both in trouble. I wait for a minute, but she doesn’t seem inclined to continue.
“Where is it?” I ask.
She waves her hand in the direction of the visiting room. I am happy for an excuse to leave, but I’m back again in a minute.
“I don’t see it,” I tell her, “but she forgot her coat.” I hold it up, as if my mom needs to see proof.
“Yes,” she says.
I wait again. “So how long ago did she leave? Could I catch up with her?”
“That is what she left you.” She flashes me a tight smile.
“Oh.” I can’t think of anything better to say. Why would she leave it for me? It’s really convenient, but she couldn’t have known. It’s strange.
“It might be a good idea to wash it if you actually want to wear it,” my mom says.
“You could be right.” I try to look like I agree with her without actually promising to wash the coat. I will probably need it too soon. I trace a finger on the embroidery. It will look ridiculous at EI, but I still like it. If I can get my other coat cleaned up, then I’ll wear it, but if not, then at least I won’t freeze in the morning.
“Well,” I say, anxious to get away from her, “I guess I’ll take this to my room then.”
She shakes her head, not telling me not to, but just expressing her views of big, embroidered coats in general.
I put the coat on as I climb the stairs to my room. I don’t know why really, to see if it’s warm and if it fits, I suppose. It feels very heavy. My grandma must get cold easily. I’m warm, nearly too warm, right away. I stick my hands into the pockets to see how deep and warm those are. Very warm, I decide,and then my fingers close around something. It’s round and smooth. A coin?
Then I pull it out and realize that it’s a button. It’s beautiful--made of mother-of-pearl. Even in the dim stairway, it catches the light.
Once in my room, I set it on my desk to look at later. I take off the coat, and for a few seconds I feel cold until I adjust. I set the coat aside, and consider tackling the one under my bed. Really, I should be doing more studying. I only have one chance at my Exam, and I’ve wasted nearly a whole day. I’ll have time to think about everything later.
There was a book by Dr. Hematite that I wanted to finish. I’ve read parts of it, but I wanted to make sure I understood what he was saying. Actually, I’m pretty sure that I don’t. It’s a theory on the use of filters to cause change with magic. He seemed to think that with the right mechanics, crystals could be used to change things without a human focusing the magic. He only wrote one book, I’ve never seen another by him, not even another copy of this book. I found it in a trunk of some things my mom brought home when her mother died. Some of them hadn’t been opened since before my mom got married. But I used to play in the attic all the time, and I opened the boxes without realizing that maybe I shouldn’t be in there.
I pick up the button and tap it on my desk. Maybe Dr. Hematite would have been able to help me make sense of what happened last night. The only thing I can think of is that I filtered my magic for change, because no filter would have meant that all of the energy was changed into light or heat. I shudder at the thought of how the night could have ended. So the question is how I filtered it in the first place? When I touched Slade, did I do anything different? It was wet, but not like water--actually, it felt more like when I help cut up raw meat, from a chicken or a duck that has just been killed. That makes sense because--I can’t think about how that is the same. I just can’t. I realize that I’m rubbing my hand against my leg; I can still feel the memory of wiping my hand on my skirt without thinking about it. I lift my hand and check for blood, but I think it’s all gone.
I tap the button against my lips, and then I put it in my mouth. I wonder why my grandmother gave me the coat?
Then a tingle spreads across my tongue and the roof of my mouth. I spit the button out. It’s like my tongue fell asleep and is waking up now. It’s like magic.
The button is still white and shining, but it’s still just a button. No glowing, no warmth, no tingling on my hand. Greenwomen don’t use crystals; they use strange bits of fur and bone. I’ve always thought that it was creepy and not at all exact. They use feathers or anything that was once alive. Like shells.
I rub the smooth, iridescent button between my thumb and finger. Am I holding a spell? Maybe I was imagining it.
Greenwomen get a Class B license. They are restricted to crystals under 100 units. What could you put in a button? Nothing really. Greenwomen don’t power anything with magic. They make little charms for keeping away evil spirits or something.
Except that my grandmother’s really work.
Did she leave it for me on purpose?
If I get it to work, then what will happen to me if it’s just an accident? An idea occurs to me. I go back to the coat and reach back into the pockets. I dig my fingertips deep down into the seam of the pockets. Nothing.
To me, it seems that if she would accidentally leave a charm or a spell in her pocket, then she would carelessly leave something else--at least the normal crumbs and fluff that are in most people’s pockets. Nothing is there. They’re perfectly clean.
1) Maybe that’s not good evidence, but it’s good enough for me. I begin to suspect that I should have stayed to talk with her. But she left this for me; she knew that I would find it and be able to get it to work.
http://kestrelbook.blogspot.com/2012/08/218.html
2) It might be safe, but playing around with magic is dangerous. Look at last night; I got lucky. How much should I press my luck when it hasn’t even been a full day yet since the last close call?
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