The Glass Magician

Emery’s arm lingered a moment after she had steadied herself, and he seemed hesitant to remove it. Was he worried she’d fall?

Clearing his throat, Emery rubbed the back of his head. “You should practice this when you get a chance, perhaps with thinner paper to start, hmm?” He glanced toward the door, then at the table drawer containing the loose pencils. He stepped around Ceony and began reorganizing the errant drawer. “And the paper doll, of course. That should keep you busy until the tour tomorrow.”

Ceony took a deep breath, hoping he didn’t notice her blazing skin. “I think it will. I’ll finish my work on the doll first. It’s a little less jarring.”

Emery nodded, and Ceony excused herself.

She settled back down on the floor of her room, leaving the door cracked open. However, as she picked up her enchanted scissors and held them to the paper doll, she found she had an especially hard time holding her hand still.





CHAPTER 3



CEONY ROSE EARLY THE next day without the help of Jonto, whom she found lurking suspiciously outside her bedroom after she had gotten dressed. She wore her red apprentice’s apron over a beige blouse and navy skirt, and had pinned her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck, where the uniform top hat wouldn’t disturb it. She had enough time to prepare two fried-egg sandwiches and fluff Fennel’s bed before the buggy pulled up to the house, the driver casting a wary glance at the illusion of a dark mansion with broken shutters and sharp-eyed crows. He must have been new.

Emery didn’t appear until the buggy honked. He looked somewhat bleary-eyed.

“You really should go to sleep earlier,” Ceony commented as he locked the house. “Why did you stay up?”

“Just thinking,” he said, stifling a yawn.

“About what?”

He glanced at her, paused, and smiled. “As I said, I can’t give away all my secrets.”

Ceony rolled her eyes and hurried to the car. “I think there’s a good many hours in the daytime for thinking.”

Emery merely smiled a second time and helped her into the cab. Once they were comfortably settled, Ceony handed him his sandwich. The man really would have starved by now had Mg. Aviosky not appointed Ceony to his stewardship. She told him so as he chewed his first bite.

“A great many things would have been different without you, that is certain,” he replied.

Ceony mulled over his words for some hidden meaning, but deciphered none. Perhaps she really wasn’t as astute as she should be. She wondered if there was a spell for that.

It took the buggy two hours and Ceony and Emery eleven conversation topics, ranging from Ceony’s father’s new job as a facilities worker for the local water treatment plant to the mating habits of honeybees, to arrive in Dartford. Ceony had never before been to Dartford. She glanced out the window as they approached, soaking in the sight of the large, industrial-looking city. Narrow, cramped-looking homes and flats occupied both sides of nearly every street, and various factories, warehouses, and sparse trees lined the city’s perimeter. Dartford also had a very wide river with a port. Leaning forward, Ceony closed her eyes and held her breath as the buggy drove over a long suspended bridge, trying to block out all thoughts about the miles and miles of water beneath her. Emery placed a hand on her back for comfort, which he did not remove even after the buggy found solid land. Ceony made no comment, letting herself enjoy the subtle warmth of his fingers.

The driver pulled into a wide square paved with cobblestones, parking in a free spot amid a long line of automobiles and one unhitched carriage. When Ceony stepped out and looked for the paper mill, she saw only more flats, a butcher shop, a bookshop, a Polymaking—plastics—studio, and some sort of foreign-foods grocery store, all more squat and less colorful than similar buildings in the capital. Only the bank building reached more than one story high.

A breeze swept by, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She turned around and scanned the narrow street behind her, but saw only businessmen on their way to work and a small flock of flying mail birds, enchanted by some other Folder in a nearby city. Odd—for a moment, Ceony had experienced the distinct sensation of being watched.

“Where’s the mill?” Ceony asked after Emery paid the driver and began walking toward the square.

“It’s on the east side,” he answered. He jutted his chin forward, toward a short, faded red bus parked in the square. “The shuttle will take you there.”

Ceony paused. “Just me?”

Emery smiled, and Ceony spied mischief in his green eyes. “It’s a rather dreadful tour, and the place doesn’t smell too pleasant, either. I’m going to pass on this one.”