The Paper Magician (The Paper Magician Trilogy, #1)(5)
CHAPTER 2
“I ALWAYS FOUND BONDING incredibly anticlimactic,” Mg. Thane commented as he picked up the easel from the chair. “Do you want to save it?”
Ceony blinked a few times and held her bonding hand to her chest. “Save what?”
He shook the large paper in his hand. “Some find it sentimental.”
“No,” she said, perhaps a little too sharply. Mg. Thane didn’t seem to notice and placed the paper against the wall, and the easel atop the table perfectly parallel to the paper stacks.
Finding no empty table space, Mg. Aviosky crouched on the floor and opened her hard plastic briefcase, crafted by the hands of a Polymaker—a type of magician who had come into being only thirty years ago, after a rubber magician had discovered plastic itself. From the briefcase Mg. Aviosky pulled a crisply folded red apron and a short, black top hat: the garb of an apprentice.
Despite the gnawing inside her stomach and the pieces of heartfelt dreams collecting in a heap at the base of her skull, Ceony accepted the clothing with a quiet reverence.
Unlike the green student apron, the apprentice apron had pleats across the thighs and thin scarlet trim around the collar. The fabric covered more of the bust as well. It tied behind the neck and around the ribs and had two small half-circle pockets at either hip.
The top hat, stiff and shiny, was a mark of experience. Students didn’t have top hats. Even though the road Ceony had stepped onto would be narrow and unexciting, at least the apron and hat proved her worth. Proved she had achieved something, for graduating from Tagis Praff, especially in a single year and at the top of her class, had been no easy feat.
“Thank you,” she said, hugging the apron to her chest.
Mg. Aviosky smiled, the sort of smile she had always given Ceony at the school. The smile that made Ceony like her so much. If only I could study under her, Ceony thought. Given the choice, she would rather enchant glass than paper.
Mg. Aviosky squared her shoulders, dispelling that notion rather abruptly. “I’ll see myself out,” she said, “unless you have another paper servant to do it for me.”
Mg. Thane’s eyes smiled as he said, “It’s no bother to escort you, Patrice. Ceony?”
“I’ll . . . stay here, if you don’t mind,” she said. Ceony had the feeling that, should she get to the buggy with Mg. Aviosky now, she’d run away and never come back. And, though she despised it, Ceony knew she needed to wait for her new responsibility to settle before she could trust herself near any easy exits. She had bound herself to paper indefinitely, and it did her no good to push through a year at Tagis Praff just to throw it all away now.
Mg. Thane nodded once, then handed her back the wrinkled piece of paper he had had her “feel.” Confused, Ceony accepted it. It took a couple of seconds—enough time for Magicians Thane and Aviosky to reach the library door—for her to realize something had changed about the parchment.
She turned it over in her hands. It still bore no Folds, no writing, but it felt different in a way difficult to describe. It still felt like paper, of course—a medium lightweight that a sketch artist might find useful—but something beneath her skin tingled at the feel of it. Was this the result of the bond? Was this why Mg. Thane had insisted she touch the paper before, so she would notice the difference now?
Somewhat confused, Ceony set the paper on the chair and hurried to the library door, peeking out to see Magicians Aviosky and Thane moving down the hallway, discussing something too quietly for Ceony to hear. She couldn’t help but follow them. Ceony crept through the hallway as the magicians vanished down the stairs, then crept down the stairs as they vanished into the dining room, making sure to step over the creaking ninth step. She scuttled after them and saw that as Mg. Aviosky finally stepped outside, Mg. Thane followed her, keeping the front door propped open with his heel. They spoke in hushed tones, so naturally Ceony suspected it was about something she was not meant to hear. Mg. Aviosky never did trust her to do as told.
She padded quietly down the hall, eyeing the unmoving pile of Jonto’s paper bones near the door. She still couldn’t make out her teachers’ conversation, but dared inch no closer.
Instead, she turned the knob to Mg. Thane’s study and let herself in.
This room had more organized clutter than all the others, highlighted by a circle-top window on the far wall, facing the bespelled front gate. Yellow paper curtains had been drawn back to reveal glass that had not been washed on the outside for quite some time. Beneath the window sat metal shelves bearing more books, folders, and ledgers similar to the one Mg. Thane had been holding earlier. Kitty-corner to that shelf rested three cedar-wood triplets, four shelves high, weighed down with neat stacks of paper pressed into one another to minimize empty space. Yet more papers had already been Folded—starter Folds, perhaps, to save time. A great deal of trinket spells likely started with those V-shaped Folds. Ceony assumed a great deal of her apprenticeship would be spent making starter Folds of no importance for Mg. Thane to use at his leisure. She sighed.
A second, square window, blocked on the outside by some sort of ivy, had various paper chains hanging down in front of it, some tight-knit with sharp angles, others made of large loops torn on the ends and fitted together so loosely that a simple tug would pull the entire thing apart. Some chains were blue, some pink, others multicolored. The color didn’t matter, of course. Ceony knew that much from her History of Materials course at Tagis Praff.