Chapter Thirty: The Sorceress's Trials

+++++Anise+++++

Amazingly, nobody had gotten into any trouble. As soon as Ezra stepped through the arcane portal and it closed, Lusha Dryad announced that he was taking the arcane portal with him and that he was taking Anise and Franyi home. When Anise stated in no uncertain terms that this was their artifact, that she and Franyi had built it with their own four hands, that she had blisters on her fingers from learning to work the arcanite extruder, the dryad simply shrugged in that maddening way of his.

"Then bill me, madame magistress. I'm buying it."

And, since Anise figured she and Franyi were worth what any professional mage was worth, calculated parts and labor as thirty stacks. Even if the math worked out, it sounded absurd coming from her mouth. Lusha Dryad didn't even blink. He just shrugged again, opened his case, and handed her six blue-pal notes worth five stacks apiece.

"We really should get going, Miss Derrigin, unless you want to spend your windfall from jail."

"I don't," Anise assured him.

Anise wasn't quite sure how to split the money - Ezra had purchased all of the materials and equipment, but it was with money stolen from her uncle. Franyi suggested an even split between the three of them, which Anise readily agreed to, figuring she and Franyi had earned their ten notes by kludging together the world's first useful arcane portal based on Ezra's diagrams of two completely disparate devices. Most mages went their entire careers without inventing anything with such far-reaching implications.

"And now we've sold it to Mr. Teak," Franyi said.

"And now we've sold it to Mr. Teak," she agreed. What the crime lord would do with it she could only speculate. Granted, Teak was probably the least objectionable of the city's crime lords, given that his business model involved:

A) murdering criminals and selling their bodies and

B) freeing the usually-decent infernics who subsequently occupied those bodies from slavery.

Still, he was a crime lord. Lusha offered to drive Anise back to Jue's manse in the Old City, but Anise would much rather spend the night with her girlfriend making love and conspiring over how to spend their windfall of criminal money.

"Probably tuition at St. Arbalest," Franyi said.

"Probably tuition at St. Arbalest," she agreed. That only made sense.

Franyi still didn't have a roommate, thank the lord, and would probably never have one if she was transferring after the term. Things were still very much up in the air on whether they'd even be admitted. Jue had submitted her endorsement and made the necessary contacts within the school's Board of Sorcery, but she was the only woman on the board (and, indeed, the only woman among the St. Arbalest's faculty or student body, though there were plenty on staff as secretaries, maids, and so on). And she only constituted one fifth of the five-sevenths majority needed to admit any student, male, female, scriben, or other. Fortunately, Uncle Fenrik was not on the board and only one person on the board didn't detest the man.

She and Franyi snuck through her slightly-ajar window, which was old hat by that point. Either of them was capable of levitating for a few minutes with no difficulty and Franyi habitually kept the window ajar. Frankly, Anise wondered why her fellow mages didn't do it all the time. As far as she knew, there was no statute against floating all over the city.

It was past Anise's bedtime and her adrenaline from that evening began to ebb. She desperately wanted to sleep, but Franyi insisted on showing Anise her new night dress... and if there was anything that could get Anise interested in anything, in was Franyi in nighttime attire.

"Aren't you wearing anything underneath it?" The dress had a very brief hem.

"No?" Franyi said, her fingers running along the frilly hem half-way down her thighs.

Anise grinned. "Good!"

She pulled Franyi on top of her, the scent of her oils, of jasmine and cloves, and of Franyi herself filling Anise's nostrils and making her tummy do flips. She couldn't believe there'd been a time when she'd thought this was wrong. Her whole life before Franyi was just a prelude, years leading up to a conclusion as inevitable as gravity. She sighed and ran her fingers along the lace of the dress's midsection, smooth caramel skin between little circular ridges of cotton like bubbles of seafoam enshrouding a lusty goddess rising from the surf.

"Do you like it?" Franyi asked.

"Mmm hmm," Anise said, and she yawned happily. Usually, she hated being sleepy, but she could simmer near sleep forever in Franyi's bed, just the two of them, and the rest of the world could fade into nothing.

Franyi yawned, too. "I wonder how Ezra and Rill are."

"Oh..." That was a very good question. Was Anise a horrible person for having been too obsessed with Franyi's delightfully risque sleepwear for that to even cross her mind? Probably.

Just then, there was a tap on the window, followed by a much louder tap a few seconds later. It sounded a lot like somebody throwing small pebbles at the window. Anise shuffled over and peered out, spotting two pairs of glowing eyes in the dead of night below. No matter how many times Anise saw a powerful infernic in the dark, it would never cease to be a little spooky.

"Ezra?"

The paler eyes bobbed up and down. "Yes," Ezra said. "Rill and I need a place to stay for the night."

+++++Anise+++++

Anise didn't think that, tonight of all nights, she would be experiencing deja vu, but here it was: she and Franyi sharing a bed while Ezra and Rill occupied her old bed. Rill had floated right up to the window, her eyes flickering fire as she did, and then Franyi tossed her rope down and Ezra climbed up five meters in three seconds flat. Rill was completely nude and she smelled like she'd been rolling around in a bonfire, which turned out not to be so far from the truth.

"You can use my old night dress if you like," Franyi said.

"I'm fine," Rill said.

"Please wear my night dress," Franyi clarified.

"If you insist."

After they got the story of the eventful midnight sojourn, Ezra wrapped Anise in a hug but managed not to get weepy. Then the four of them made their sleeping arrangements. Anise snuggled in next to Franyi, who was the best person in the world to sleep next to. Franyi held Anise from behind, which was their typical arrangement, and traced little circles on Anise's belly with a gentle fingertip, which was the best feeling in the world to fall asleep to. The only thing that prevented her from happily drifting into a snooze was the sound of wet lips smacking as Ezra and Rill engaged in tongue spelunking on the other bed. It was a bit distracting, but Anise wouldn't bother them as long as their antics didn't descend into creaking bedframes and loud groaning, which they did not.

"I thought I'd lost you forever," Ezra whispered.

Rill giggled. "Silly boy. I knew you'd come."

Anise wondered what she's do if anybody ever kidnapped Franyi and took her away. And the answer was: anything. She'd burn the world down to get her back. The lord chancellor had gotten off light. She drifted off to sleep and dreamt of Franyi captured by pirates, and of herself as a brave privateer captain sailing into uncharted seas to save her. They'd just gotten to the really good part of the rescue, where she and Franyi were nude and kissing in her sumptuous captain's chambers, when the tapping awoke her. A tap at the window and then another.

Anise grumbled, but she was the only one doing more than barely starting to stir, so she extricated herself from the octopus hold of Franyi's limbs and plodded over to see who'd come to call. A great, white owl swept by the window, its sleek, black talons tapping against the glass. Anise yelped, but that was just a reflex. She lifted the window to let the bird perch, shivering against the cold dawn. It was one of Jue's many familiars, a majestic snowy owl with great, ice-blue eyes that suggested an absolute disinterest in anything that wasn't small and rodent-y. After a moment's hesitation, she accepted the rolled up paper clutched in its beak.

Meeting with the Board of Sorcerers today at noon. Your presence is required. Be proper. Be brilliant. Be prepared.

-Jue

+++++Anise+++++

"'Be brilliant'? What does that even mean?" Franyi said.

Anise wondered the same thing. You couldn't just tell somebody to be brilliant! That's not how brilliance worked! You might as well tell somebody to 'be tall' or 'have blue eyes'. What if she wasn't brilliant enough?

"You're brilliant enough," Franyi said. She finished buttoning Anise's blouse and kissed her cheek. "And too clever by half."

The advanced program at St. Arbalest's took in perhaps twenty students a year, training them to be magisters (and, Anise hoped, magistresses) of the highest order. Only 4th and 5th elevation mages of high potential were ever admitted, and of the hundred or so applications received and considered each year, only a fifth ever saw the inside of an etudium practice hall. The entrance requirements were vague, but the board wouldn't admit any student of insufficient scholarship, practice, or power. Of the three, the only one Anise felt even vaguely confident about was her raw magical power, which was pretty decent, even by 5th elevation standards. But she'd only been 3rd elevation that summer and knew literally no advanced techniques - not the ones they taught the girls at St. Quillia's, let alone the more advanced ones they probably taught the men.

"I think I'm going to be sick," she said.

"You're not going to-"

Anise leaned over and promptly vomited into the bushes, acid and bile burbling back down her throat.

"Never mind," Franyi said. "Feel better?"

Anise nodded. She could do with some water to wash out the astringent taste, but she'd rather vomit along the primrose path to the men's etudium than in front of the whole Board of Sorcerers. She glanced at the nearby clock tower and felt her stomach churn again. It was ten minutes to noon. Ten minutes until they met with the board. This was insane... better to just run off and...

Franyi grasped her hand and gave it a squeeze. Her palms were clammy, too, but it somehow made everything better. Even if Anise didn't make it, Franyi would. She was the most brilliant person Anise knew, after Sorceress Jue maybe. Her girlfriend would be a magistress and Anise could learn from her. That would be almost as good, right?

"I wonder if we'll be sworn to secrecy?" Anise said.

Franyi bit her lip. "If I don't make it, you have to promise to teach me."

"We'll never keep secrets from one another. Not ever."

Franyi nodded, and that was as good as a pact. Women of their word didn't have to shake on it. They passed through there St. Arbalest's campus, past old stone buildings with ivy slowly withering and browning as the winter took hold. The air was crisp even with their light jackets on. It never got really cold in St. Arbalest, but chilly with a brisk breeze was enough to make Anise shiver.

They arrived at the Hall of All Magisters, the imposing castle-like structure that served as the stronghold for the dons and prestigious sorcerers of the etudium. It took a full minute to negotiate with the doorman to let them in, but they eventually convinced him that this was no joke and he relented. If he made them late, Anise was going to...

"Right on time," Jue said. Her face was impassive, as it often was, but Anise was gradually learning to read her from body posture alone. She was... proud? Or maybe her dress just had a girdle. That was probably it.

A scriben sorcerer in school robes strolled out to meet them, his face a literal wooden mask. "Welcome, ladies," he said. "The sorceress has had a great deal to say about the both of you and I'm eager to see it for myself. Who'd like to go first?"

"I will," Anise said. And she nearly gasped - it had just slipped out! She wasn't ready! Not nearly ready!

"Excellent. Please, step inside."

+++++Anise+++++

Being in the Magisters' Chamber was like being in temple - dim, dark stone, and soaring ceilings with stained glass filtering colors in like whispers from the past. Only, instead of all eyes forward at the bishop, there were seven mages of the 7th and 8th elevation peering down and scrutinizing Anise... and some of that scrutiny did not feel benevolent.

A large scriben presided in the center, the mouth of his brassy face moving in a strange parody of normal speaking motions. The speech that issued forth, though, was smooth and confident.

"Miss Derrigin, you shall be subjected to the same entrance examination as any graduate of a mage's program, including the graduates of the St. Arbalest's preparatory magister program, which is itself a lofty goal that few mages can boast. Your family pedigree and recent... public presentation... are of no relevance. Do you understand?"

"I only want a fair chance," Anise said. In her own ears, her voice sounded small and childish.

"And you shall get it," the scriben said. This was, Anise gathered, High Sorcerer Guli-sezhit, one of two scriben on the board. The other was Ekra-tava, her uncle's friend, who might be less kindly inclined. "I suppose I'll start..." he leaned forward and glanced toward Ekra-tava. "A certain high sorcerer known to this Board of Sorcery insists that the human female is incapable of great feats of magic because she lacks the analytical mind for it. Sorceress Jue is an exception, of course."

"How obliging." Jue did not hide the rolling of her eyes.

"Let's try to put that rumor to rest, shall we, Miss Derrigin?"

With a wave of his hand, a portable chalkboard creaked across the room and over to Anise, clunking next to her in a little puff of chalk. "Please solve the problem presented."

Anise would have been indignant about being conscripted as a scion for her whole gender and their ability to do math if it wasn't for the terror of seeing a mess of indecipherable squiggles in front of her. There were a few letters and numbers... she recognized the little citron symbol... but most of it was just patterns and particular squiggles. She picked up a piece of chalk and it immediately felt like it weighed about ten kilos. She'd never seen any math remotely like this. Already, they were whispering behind her back as she utterly failed to apprehend the equation on the chalkboard. Anise was about to ignominiously fail her very first question...

"What, really?" Guli-sezhit muttered.

"Yes, sixty or seventy years ago," the kao-alta sorcerer whispered.

"Hmm... Miss Derrigin, it has come to my attention that the notation for this sort of problem has very recently been changed..."

An eraser and two pieces of chalk hovered away from the little stand and rewrote the equation in a flurry of scribbling and white dust.

"Oh! It's a differential equation!" Anise said.

That she could do. She worked her way through the problem - the old fashioned way, chalk held between her fingers, as she didn't yet have enough control to have neat handwriting (mindwriting?) with one piece of telekinetically-controlled chalk, let alone the two Guli-sezhit had managed. She stalled, reaching part of the equation that didn't seem to be solvable... and, in fact, wasn't. After a minute, she spotted the trick, worked back to the previous step, and arrived at an equation array that appeared to work.

"Is that correct?"

"It is."

"She didn't exactly solve it quickly."

That was to be the pattern for the next hour and a half: seemingly-random questions, often poorly-worded and reworded, and without the usual tools to address them. The kao-alta asked Anise to mix a distillate of wormwood over a refraction of esper of lyme in the gradient fashion using only a refluxor, a beading flask, cast pipe, and a burner, and Anise would not have volunteered to drink the end product.

The whole time, Anise fretted over Franyi. She was probably pacing outside, sweating flechettes and stressing while Anise was getting grilled (while also sweating flechettes and stressing like a wicker bridge). At least Franyi would probably pass, whereas Anise was utterly failing the exam.

The borrenkin member of the board - a medicinal sorcerer, apparently - had an assistant wheel out a borrenkin corpse on a gurney and told Anise to ascertain the cause of death. St. Quillia's did not use cadavers for anatomy lessons, and the only two classes she'd had on borrenkin anatomy and physiology has mostly been to stress how very bizarre it was. Anise would have had no possibility to succeed if it hadn't been for the fine blue sutures, too subtle and near-transparent for a middle-aged borrenkin to consider obvious. Anise followed them visually along the pathway that the medical assistant had attempted to sew the innards back together, followed right to a little oblong bulb of an organ that cracked open at the slightest poke.

"A lesion to the uh... pulp filtrator?" she said. She thought that's what the organ was called.

"And?"

The inside of the mass looked even more gross than the rest of the body. "And secondary infection?"

That, apparently, was the right answer.

Seven mages, seven questions, each of them unexpected and difficult. Frankly, Anise wished they'd just tell her she'd failed and let her get on with her life, such that it was. At least she was too emotionally numb to cry in front of the mages who held her fate pinched between imperious fingers. Six sorcerers, six questions - and Sorceress Jue. She was the last board member - and she, at least, was on Anise's side. Right?

"Miss Derrigin," she said, "St. Arbalest's is not St. Quillia's and our Magister's program is even less forgiving than the preparatory curriculum. As somebody who's come into her power very quickly and abruptly, I have concerns that your soul is asymmetrical and you will not elevate beyond the 5th stage. The test for this is simple enough - such mages are unable to sustain magical exertion to the degree that their properly-developed peers can."

Without even bothering to gesture, the sorceress summoned an iron sphere, her body glowing faintly indigo with the magical exertion. The sphere, perhaps twenty centimeters across, set down near Anise's foot, rolling for a few centimeters before finding a little divot between floor stones and rocking to a stop. It was gunmetal gray with the faint browning of tiny, rusty pits. Anise tapped the thing with her foot - it was solid - and looked back to Jue.

"Go on, lift it," Jue said.

What kind of test was that? Not the sort you ignored, in any case. Anise squared her shoulders and squatted slightly to grab the thing. It had to weigh twice or more what she did.

"With your magic, child," the sorceress sighed.

Anise glared at Jue. Test or no, recommendation or no, she would not be called a child in front of the greatest mages of St. Arbalest's. She held her hand aloft and spooled her energy out to lift the thing. Was that the test? Anise had tossed borrenkin who weighed that much through the air.

"Good. Now you and the ball float up and touch the apex of the dome."

Anise stifled the urge to gasp. She'd levitated before, of course, but never so high and certainly not while carrying something nearly so heavy. Did Jue want her to get herself killed? Her own protégé? None of the other mages voiced any objections, so Anise floated up, her vision tinting blue with little indigo swirls as the magical exertion showed itself. For whatever reason, reasonably powerful magic did that, wreathing its caster in the aura of whatever energies it expended. In the back of her mind, she screamed - she could feel the draw of energy tapping right into her, and it was not a small spigot.

She lifted up... three meters... five meters. But the top of the dome was closer to twenty. Hopefully, one of the mages would catch her if her energy faltered. When her energy faltered. Twelve meters up and she was already pushing herself to exhaustion. Part of her whispered: let the sphere go! Save yourself, girl!

But Anise wasn't a girl. She was a woman and a mage. She wasn't going to drop it. They'd probably charge her for the repairs to the floor. And she wasn't going to let a rusty ball of metal beat her. As she approached the roof, Anise gasped, sweat dripping down the sides of her face. Eighteen meters. Her ascent slowed... slowed... her power faded. She wasn't even going to make it to the roof, let alone make a safe descent.

She wondered if they heard her grunt of exertion down below. Was her sweat dribbling down like salty rain? As she reached into the last of her reserves and found them insufficient, Anise felt an instant of weightlessness. She was plummeting, at least in that instant. Probably, somebody would save her. Then she would make an inglorious exit and Franyi would go into her own trial knowing that her girlfriend had failed. That was simply unacceptable. Something deeply instinctual within her fired to life and Anise's vision went blue, some previously untapped vein of magic surging into her awareness.

Her palm pressed against the cool, smooth stone of the dome above her and Anise floated down, down... and the energy surrounding her slowly faded to a hum, winking out as her toes returned to the floor. She jumped at the loud crack just beside her - she'd dropped the iron sphere the last few centimeters. Anise hoped that counted as a pass. Her nose was wet, so she wiped it with her sleeve, noting the smear of blood that now marred her good blouse.

"I think I've seen enough," Guli-sezhit said.

+++++Anise+++++

Apparently, sorcerers had long attention spans and didn't take toilet breaks, because they called in Franyi right after. She passed Anise on her way through the big double doors, concern tensing across her beautiful face. Anise felt herself pulled into a hug, pulling back enough for Franyi to get a good look at her.

"Ani... your nose..."

"It's fine. I'm fine," Anise lied. She'd promised herself not to lie, but she'd do it this once. For Franyi. "You're brilliant."

"You're brilliant," Franyi said. She kissed Anise's cheek, stepped into the Magisters' Chamber, and the doors creaked shut behind her.

They hadn't even told Anise how she'd done. That's how poorly she'd fared, apparently. It didn't even warrant a vote. At least Franyi still had a chance - a very good chance, if Anise had to guess. She wondered what Magistress Binar would think when she learned her best student had skipped her afternoon classes to look into absconding to another school. Knowing Binar, she'd probably scowl and remind everyone that her parents' tuition payment was non-refundable.

The lobby had a receptionist, presumably staff, since even the tuition support students at St. Arbalest's would be expected to do complex and specialized work. The man offered Anise tea, which she accepted and then promptly vomited into a potted plant after three sips. Even with her own disastrous trial in the record books, she was still worried sick over Franyi.

Clearly, they'd given her girlfriend different questions. At one point, Anise heard chanting and felt the hum of not-so-distant magical energies. She felt the boom of an explosion, albeit a smallish one. The receptionist did not seem perturbed by any of this.

"Shall I fetch a doctor, miss?" he asked.

"If I need a doctor, I'm perfectly capable of asking for one," Anise stated. She felt a bit bad about being snitty, but what did the man expect? She was a living ball of stress and had a pounding headache from magical overexertion.

Had her examination taken that long? Didn't they know how anxious she was? She was more stressed than she'd been when they'd broken into Uncle Fenrik's place. Well... up until the goons and their prymen showed up and then her uncle ripped a huge hole in the brick wall. That had been much more stressful... but it hadn't lasted an hour and a half.

"More tea, miss?"

She managed to keep that tea down, and it even seemed to calm her stomach a bit. Ten minutes later, the doors groaned back open and Franyi stumbled out, her face a picture of bewilderment and mild trauma. Her thin eyebrows appeared to have trouble lowering themselves from a surprised upward arch. Anise dashed forward and pulled Franyi into a hug before she could collapse. Supporting one another, they stumbled over to the little couch in the reception area.

"That was pretty intense," Franyi said with a sigh. "Well... at least one of us is going to make it."

Yeah, Anise almost said. Oh. Oh no. Oh nonono... Franyi meant her!

"Fran... I..." Anise wasn't sure what to say. That at least Franyi could go back to St. Quillia's and pretend that nothing has happened? Because there was absolutely no denying that something had happened. They'd been judged and found wanting, both of them.

Tap tap tap tap, came the purposeful strides down across the chamber floor. Sorceress Jue stepped out, wearier than Anise could ever remember her looking, though her posture was still ramrod straight and her gown was impeccable.

"I'm sorry, women, but that's the way it had to be," she said. "There could be no doubt, no 'atta boy' questions posed by friendly faces. You will need to be their better before you are seen even as an equal."

"I..." Anise wasn't sure what to say. This was it? Her lifelong dream (which, granted, had only been a lifelong dream for a few weeks) was over because of some stupid test? There had to be some silver lining... "Can I still study from your library?"

Jue shot her a curious look. "I suppose. But I suspect you'll be far too busy with your studies, at least at first."

Franyi squeezed Anise's hand so hard it hurt. "You mean... Anise is in?"

It was her turn to receive the curious look from Jue, her dark eyes scrutinizing her. "Of course. In three weeks, the two of you will begin your study in the St. Arbalest's Advanced Program for Magisters and Magistresses... well... we'll work on the name change later. Congratulations, women. Now, if you don't mind, I've got a meeting to be at."

As Jue made her way off to the rest of her day, Franyi squeezed Anise and held her close. "Ani, we did it!"