The carriage shuddered as it went over another series of broken paving stones. Galia braced herself against the corner of the carriage again to avoid being thrown out of her seat. After a bone-jarring few moments the ride smoothed out again and she managed to pry herself out of her corner.

“You would think a bunch of wizards would keep the only road to the towers in halfway decent repair.” She grumbled, straightening her dress and trying to find a comfortable position.

“Met many mages have you?” Asked the gentleman sprawled on the seat opposite her. He was dressed in silks and linens and sat in a haphazard manner that took up at least two seats. The man had barely said two words to her the whole trip from Peracost.

“A few.” Galia said, guardedly.

“Well I come from a long line of wizards. Most just throw open a portal and walk a few steps. No need for roads.” The man said with an exaggerated shrug. “Why pay for something you don’t use?”

Galia blinked, her brother had always said portals were for the lazy and incurious since you had to be intimately familiar with a place to open a portal to it. Blind portaling often lead to some fairly horrific accidents. She did not want to argue the point, so she just let it go. “I suppose there’s some truth to that.”

“I assure you I do know what I’m talking about.” The man said with an easy grin. “I’m Anton Belmont, of the Fair Reach Belmonts.”

The confidence that he said it with made Galia think that he assumed she would know those names. She paused thinking of what her mother and brother had told her but was coming up blank on any Belmonts. “I’m Galia, I’m from Peracost.”

Anton grinned wider. “Scholarship student? I know that Master Rathwin feels he owes it to you all. I mean you do important work, growing food and reagents, fine craftsmen too. With our studies it becomes hard to learn other crafts and trades.”

Galia nodded, a polite grin on her lips. How much longer was this trip going to be? She wondered.

“Unfortunately, magic is in the blood.” Anton mused with a pained expression. “So, I wouldn’t get my hopes up.”

I liked him better when he was ignoring me. Galia thought, painting a neutral expression on her face. “My brother thought I had some talent, he encouraged me to come.”

“A support structure is always good.” Anton nodded, encouragingly. “My father couldn’t wait for me to go. But I was casting simple cantrips at ten, something of a prodigy.”

“Ten? Really, that’s impressive.” Galia said, sweetly.

“I don’t like to brag.” Anton said, flashing a sheepish-but-not-sheepish grin.

“I won’t tell.” Galia mimed locking her lips and throwing away the key.

Their conversation was cut short as the driver thumped on the roof of the carriage. “Gates of Osterlan!” He called down. “End of the road.”

“Looks like our journey together is at an end.” Anton sighed, picking up his personal bag and stowing the few things he had pulled out during the ride.

“It appears to be.”

“Just when we were getting acquainted.” A snap of the bag and Anton was ready. The carriage slowed as they approached the gates and the young man appeared prepared to jump out before the coach even stopped. “Maybe we’ll see each other around. I’ll give you some tips when you need help in your studies.”

He winked. Dear gods, he winked. “That won’t be necessary.”

“We all need a little help sometimes, don’t worry.” As though she were embarrassed. “Tell you what, I’ll just drop by for a casual chat now and then mistress…I’m sorry I never got your full name.”

“I didn’t give it.” Galia said as the coach slowed to a halt. “It’s Amneris.”

Anton paled. “Amneris? Surely you’re not related to…”

“He’s my brother.”

“And…”

“My father.”

“Oh…”

“Don’t worry, as you said, it’s in the blood.” Galia said as the coach door was opened. She paused as she stepped out and turned to face Anton, unable to resist twisting the knife. “I wouldn’t get my hopes up, though. I never heard of you or your family before just now.”

She stepped from the coach and strode to the imposing stone gates. Getting one over on the arrogant Anton had been satisfying, but the towers stood a short walk ahead. Her future lay ahead. A future she was not at all certain about.

***

The short walk from the gates to the towers was not arduous, it was quite pleasant in fact. Tall trees arched over the path making a kind of green tunnel, obscuring everything to either side and funneling visitors directly to the Master’s Garden. Galyn had told her about it when she had received her acceptance letter.

“Just bring a small bag of essentials.” Galyn had said. “The Towers are going to provide everything you need while you’re there, so you won’t need much. Also no one is going to help you with your bags, so you have to carry everything yourself.”

Galia could hear Anton cursing at the driver for not carrying his luggage. She smiled to herself and enjoyed her walk. The Master’s Garden was just ahead, a well-maintained lawn with meticulously kept flower beds and hedges. Gravel paths lead in the cardinal directions, each towards one of the four towers that made up Osterlan. Marble statuary of famous masters adorned the lawn. She did not want to look for it, but one statue stood out next to the path leading into the gardens. A handsome man, hair and beard cropped short, staff of the archmagus held firmly in one hand, the other held aloft in preparation for some spell she was sure. In real life his skin was a dark brown like hers, and he rarely had such a stern expression, but the artist had captured his likeness fairly well.

“Hi dad.” Galia said, giving the statue a little wave. “Been a while.”

The statue continued gazing across the lawns.

“Maybe we’ll run across each other.” Galia mused. “It’s been, what, five years since the last time you were home?”

Again, the statue maintained its stony vigil.

“Good talk. See you around, dad.” Galia snorted and turned towards the gardens.

She walked to the fountain in the center of the compass and looked around. There was not a soul in sight. Galyn had said that the Towers were not as populated as they once were, but that there were quite a few wizards who lived there and even more people on the staff that cooked and cleaned for them.

“No welcoming party?” Galia asked herself. “Well, I’m disappointed and never patronizing this establishment again.”

A panting and huffing sound came from the gate path. Galia turned to see Anton laden with two heavy bags and dragging a chest along the ground. He stopped at the edge of the garden and looked around, spotted her and frowned. She sighed and turned back to the fountain—had the fountain changed?

Galia began slowly walking around the fountain. A moment before it had been a plain affair, water splashing out of a plinth in the center of a circular pool. Now it was more ornate, carved marble fish curved around a central pillar, each one spitting water into the pool. It was a small change, but a change nonetheless, she was sure of it.

“Would have thought they would send someone to meet us.” Anton said, slightly winded as he approached. “One would think with your family they’d make some sort of fuss. Maybe the Amneris name isn’t what it once was, eh?”

“Quiet.” Galia said, waving vaguely at Anton.

“What?”

“I’m thinking and you’re distracting.” Galia said, making another shooing motion.

“I’ll talk whenever I damn well please!” Anton sputtered in indignation.

Galia licked her lips and closed her eyes. She thought about what her mother had told her about working at the Towers. “They love to play their little games.” Lara had told her one evening after Galyn had gone off for training. Galia had been concerned for her brother, she had heard things about the Towers and not many of them good. “But it’s mostly illusion work. Your father taught me to center my mind, anchor it to what is, not what might be. Makes it easier to see through the distractions.”

An anchor for your mind. Fixing your thoughts to what is and not what might be. Centering, she had spent months learning the technique. Still your breathing, close your eyes, be present, be only here and only now. Slowly she opened her eyes. The fountain remained, but it was hazy, like it was made from mists. Now she could see that the fountain concealed a circular staircase. Galia smiled to herself, pleased that she had passed some sort of test. With a wink at Anton she stepped onto the staircase, and to his eyes, descended into the fountain.

***

The stone staircase wound its way down beneath the gardens. The walls lined with the same gray stone that formed the imposing towers above. Down and down she spiraled leaving the light from above behind. The staircase soon was plunged into a kind of gray half-light, as the stairs themselves obscured the sunlight coming in from above. Below seemed to be only more darkness.

“Another test?” Galia mused. The Towers were supposed to admit any with the desire to learn the arcane arts. In reality most of the applicants came from either wizarding families like hers or from apprenticeships in the larger cities. Few came to the towers entirely ignorant of basic cantrips.

Galia centered herself once again then held up her left hand, thumb and forefinger extended at right angles. She flicked her hand up and down once, rapidly, then drew her fingers together with a twisting motion. “Fos!”

A pale blue-white orb of light appeared above her fingers like a lit wick. The staircase was now fully lit around her for a good ten paces or so. Galia smiled to herself and continued to descend. She did not often get the chance to work magic at home unless her father or brother were home. Her mother was not a fan of independent spell work.

“Those are dangerous forces you’re fiddling with.” She would say when she would find Galia digging through her father’s spellbooks, trying to puzzle out the esoteric descriptions. “Not a toy. Not some plaything. I’ve seen wise men burned to a cinder getting a finger placement wrong. Horrible monstrosities summoned from a moment of distraction. Your father and your brother have a gift for doing these things right the first time so it doesn’t occur to them that others might not.”

Luckily the Light cantrip had never killed anyone to Galia’s knowledge, nor her mother’s, so she had gotten to practice that one. A good reliable spell, solid as a rock.

The orb of light flickered.

Galia stopped and stared at her fingers. The orb flickered again, dimming and brightening for a moment. She brought her thoughts back to center, they had been wandering, maybe that was causing the disruption.

The orb flickered again.

Galia cursed and started to go faster down the stairs, hoping she could get to a more lighted area before her cantrip gave out. It had never failed before, never so much as flickered as it was doing now. The Light cantrip was a staple because it was so stable, a bedrock for young mages. As she hit the bottom of the stairs the orb dimmed to half its previous brilliance, casting deep shadows in the room she found herself in.

The same gray stonework framed a room perhaps twenty paces on a side. It had an earthy, damp smell which was not completely surprising given how far underground they were. Though Galia could not fathom why they were so far down, and in some sort of empty storeroom?

She turned slowly around, taking in the room while her light flickered above her fingers. Doors stood at the cardinal directions. Each door had a rune inscribed above the lintel and written beside each one, in the Common Tongue, was the phrase “Choose Wisely”.

Galia inspected each one closely. There was something familiar about them, but she could not put her finger on it. The runes were too simple for something deadly. In fact, they did not seem to do anything much at all. From her reading she knew that rune-work was one of the foundations of modern magic. Runes were a pattern that, when held in the mind, and combined with the right words and gestures, produced the desired magical effect. Runes were unnecessary for cantrips, being as simple as they were, but for more advanced spell-work they were essential.

The orb of the cantrip shrank again, darkening the shadows further as Galia walked to each rune in turn. She approached the first and centered herself, then concentrated on the rune above the door. For a moment nothing happened. She stood there, focused on the rune and felt silly. Maybe there was something she missed in her education? Galyn had been teaching her when he came home, but those visits had become more and more infrequent. He had never told her anything about this, the most he had told her was that beyond cantrips magic was like pushing something through your body, an energy maybe, he had not been very clear.

“Well, what have I got to lose?” Galia muttered, fixing the rune in her mind she let everything else fall away. Instinctively she reached out with her feelings, her senses, finding the edges of the rune, making it real in her minds eye. Then she pushed with her mind, there was a strange sort of resistance she had never felt before, like there was something there. Her little orb of light dimmed again. Galia pushed harder, sweat starting to form on her brow. She felt something, a strange tugging sensation then a warmth spread throughout her body. The rune above the door emitted a soft bluish glow.

Suddenly the room was awash in light. Before the door shone a sun in miniature, blazing as if at zenith. Galia gasped and let go of her focus. The glow vanished around the rune, as did the miniature sun. She stared at where it had been. “All right, what the hell was that?”

Galia repeated the steps, this time it came easier, faster. The rune glowed and the miniature sun appeared hovering in midair, as did the slightest haze of clouds and the appearance of a blue sky behind it. She watched it, transfixed, until the strain became too much, and she released the spell. At least she thought it was a spell. There were a few things missing if she recalled correctly. Galia let her bag drop to the ground and rummaged inside. She quickly found the copy of Meridraste’s Elementary Spell-Work that Galyn had given her on her eleventh birthday. She flipped through the chapters on various cantrips with notes in the margins from Galyn about how to improve or adjust them. Towards the end was a chapter on beginning spells. Each spell was cast with the use of a schima, a form, usually a glyph or rune, a nevma, a gesture, much like she had used with her Light cantrip, and a lexma, a word to bring the power forth. All three, done in the precise order and with the precise timing would release the spell’s power and create the desired effect.

She looked at the runes above the four doorways. She had the schima to hand it appeared, but the other two parts…it was dangerous to simply guess at the components of a spell.

“All right Galia, let’s think through this.” She muttered, pacing the length of the room. “It has to be a test, just like the fountain above, and like the fountain it’s probably something we know how to do. So, what do I know how to do?”

She stopped in front of each door and repeated the process she had done with the first. The second door showed a sun sinking into twilight, evoking the sound of crickets. The third showed Naesa, the greater moon, hanging on a vague background of stars. The fourth a sun rising in the morning giving the impression of the sound of songbirds. Then she was back at the first door again.

“Choose wisely?” Galia said, staring the at the sign while biting her lip. “What am I choosing? A time of day? What could that mean?”

The Light cantrip dimmed a little further. Something in the room was pulling magic out of her spell slowly. She could barely see the door across from her, the moon door. To her right was the dawn, and to her left was twilight. “Heh, sunrise to the east, sunset to the west.” She chuckled, then stopped. “Sunrise to the east…wizards use High Malconian for lexma since most spells were developed from that time period. Meridraste’s was originally written in High Malconian for the gods’ sake! And the High Malconian for east is oster. The Towers of Osterlan, the towers of the dawn!”

Galia strode across the room, directly to the dawn door. She drew up her power and summoned the image of the dawn. Now she had a pretty good idea of what the nevma and lexma would be. She reached forward and pushed against the door, keeping the schima in mind. “Osterlan!”

The door clicked and swung open. Beyond was a brightly lit room. It was small, big enough for a bed, a desk and a wardrobe. A good-sized window let in the golden afternoon sun. Intrigued, Galia stepped through the doorway and into the room.

Immediately she felt the power leave her in a rush. It was a jarring sensation, neither pleasant nor unpleasant, but it left her cold and leaning against one of the bedposts for support. Galia looked behind her and saw the door was gone. She grinned; she had done it. But now what?

Before she could really get her bearings there was a soft scratching at the door of the small room. Galia turned and hesitated before reaching out to open it. What if the door opened to another test? She blew out her breath, “Well, if it’s another test we’ll just kick that one’s ass too.”

She opened the door and saw nothing. Blinking in confusion she looked around the hallway. It was a perfectly normal hallway in a circular shape. She could see other doors on this floor. A soft cough made her look down.

A calico cat sat at her feet, looking up at her with all the imperious dignity a cat can muster. “Do you often talk to yourself?” The cat asked. “If so, you might want to break yourself of that habit. The walls around here have ears.”