The Paper Magician (The Paper Magician Trilogy, #1)(3)
Ceony adjusted her hat, if only to give her free hand something to do. “Twenty-two.”
“Still an accomplishment,” he said, almost offhandedly. “Hopefully you can put those study habits of yours to good use here.”
Ceony only nodded. She did have good study habits—she prided herself on them—but schoolwork had always come easily to her. She had a sharp memory, and often remembered things after reading them through only once or twice. It was a blessing that had pulled her through many difficult and dull lectures. Hopefully it would help her here as well.
Mg. Aviosky cleared her throat, breaking through the silence before it could settle. “I have her new uniform in my case. Do tell me you prepared the bonding.”
“Of course,” he answered, dismissing the question with a slight wave of his hand. He looked at Ceony. “I suppose you’ll want a tour of sorts.”
Ceony felt herself shrink. How easily this man could crush her future with a wave of his hand! For once she bonded to a material, there would be no turning back—a bond was for life. She searched for a possible escape route should she need one and spied the paper skeleton immediately behind her and shrieked for the second time. Who needed ghosts to haunt a house when one could form his own demons out of paper?
“Jonto, cease,” Mg. Thane said, and the skeleton collapsed in a heap of paper bones right there on the floor, his carefully Folded skull resting right at the top.
Ceony stepped away from it. What sort of morbid man constructed a butler out of paper? Was there no one else to answer the door?
“Do you live alone?” Ceony asked.
“As it suits me,” Mg. Thane replied, leading them down the hallway. “The study,” he said, gesturing to the closed door on the left, “and the dining room is through here,” he added, pausing at the second right in the hallway.
Ceony followed with slow steps and peeked around the corner, half expecting another paper atrocity to jump out at her.
Instead she found a short hallway with mirrors hanging across from one another on either wall, a bench, and a simple stunted dresser with an empty vase on top of it. Tightly Folded paper triangles lined the walls close to the ceiling in teal and yellow where the hall opened into a small, well-stocked kitchen. A marble countertop surrounded a single-basin sink. Dark-stained cupboards loomed to either side, but gave enough room to work in. A metal grating above the sink carried a small set of pots and pans, their dark bottoms denoting that they were well used. Around the edges of the grating wrapped a paper vine that looked very similar to the skeleton’s—Jonto’s—bones. Did it have a use, or did the paper magician merely grow bored being cooped up here, away from real people? How much of the paper décor in this house was actually used for spells, and how much of it was pointless ornamentation?
Would Ceony spend her days as little more than a glorified decorator?
Shaking the thoughts from her head, Ceony eyed the rest of the kitchen. Mg. Thane had a more narrow stove than what she was accustomed to, and an old-fashioned one at that, but not poor. Ceony felt somewhat assured knowing that between her lessons on Folding she could escape here to cook. After all, had she not received her scholarship, she would have attended culinary school as an alternative. The tuition for that was a tenth of what the Tagis Praff School demanded, and Ceony had a knack for food. She felt confident she would have been enrolled.
Ceony moved past the kitchen to the dining room. Hundreds of paper birds hung from the ceiling by filament threads, looking nearly alive. They dangled quietly, out of the way, suspended above a simple square table that sat atop a brown woven rug. Near it stood a tall, dark-stained hutch neatly cluttered with dishes, books, napkins, jars, and jugs—everything fit together so tightly that removing just one item might make the rest avalanche. Along the top of the hutch rested strange paper balls and cones made of smaller balls and cones and smaller ones yet. They hurt Ceony’s eyes. The house would be cozy were it not so crammed with things.
She wandered to a thick stack of parchment at the edge of the table and rested her hand on it, thinking of the paper illusions lining the cottage’s fence. “The front you put onto your home is horrid,” she quipped.
Mg. Aviosky passed Ceony a warning look as she stepped into the dining room. Mg. Thane merely replied, “Yes. Pleasant, isn’t it?”
He passed her and opened a door with a long handle, which revealed a steep set of stairs leading up. “If you’ll follow me.”
Ceony did so, suitcase still in hand. The ninth step creaked under her weight, and her knees hurt by the time she reached the second floor.
“Your room,” Mg. Thane said, pushing a door open, “if you want to set down your luggage.”
Ceony stepped into the room, a stark contrast from the rest of the house, as all its shelves were empty. No stacks, piles, or knickknacks, but judging by the indentations in the carpet, the room had recently held furniture that had been moved or removed. Mg. Thane must have only just prepared for her arrival, despite having a week’s notice.
Even stranger, no paper ornaments adorned the walls or the ceiling—they had been left starkly bare. A simple twin-sized bed rested against the only window. A set of three shelves had been built into the wall beside it, and a simple writing desk with one drawer rested a couple paces from the bed’s foot. There was a small closet, large enough for Ceony’s few changes of clothes, and a small table with a new candlestick and holder upon it.