Noa thought this over. She looked back at the flower. She told it to stop taking water from the vine, to brown and wither and go to sleep. She tried saying it a dozen different ways, but still the flower was unchanged. The bee fluttered around her head, as if in mockery.
“The words don’t feel right,” she said, frustrated. “It’s like trying to speak backward or something.”
“Come here.” Julian led her over to the fountain. He showed her several Salt spells, ordering the water to churn, to freeze, to slosh over the side in waves. He even made a wave form itself into an eerie, lurching figure with foam for hair.
“I invented that one,” he said, after the water creature dissolved. “Mages used to think you couldn’t use Salt to make the sea take on unnatural shapes, but I found that if you command it to assume a state between water and ice—which requires fluency to keep it there—you can then shape it into whatever form you wish.”
Noa was still staring at the place where the figure had disappeared. “How did you work that out?”
“Patience. That’s the only way to master your powers.”
That only made Noa more frustrated, though she wasn’t sure if she was annoyed with herself or with Julian. It felt worse to fail at magic when he stood there making success look so easy.
“Make a dolphin, Julian!” Mite said, leaning over the fountain. She let out a cry of delight when Julian slashed his hand out dramatically, rings flashing, and summoned a watery dolphin. It sailed over their heads and shattered against the courtyard.
Noa’s gaze was drawn to a weed poking up between the flagstones, where there was now a dolphin-shaped puddle of water. The weed was brown and clearly dead. She knelt beside it.
“Could you—” She stopped. No asking questions, Julian had said. “Drink the water,” she said. “Open your leaves to the sunlight. Live again.”
She knew that it was impossible, and indeed, the weed did nothing. But she felt, somehow, that something was listening to her. Not the weed, exactly. But something.
“All right,” she said, “how about you move this leaf here? Just a little bit.”
The leaf twitched.
Noa leaped back, her heart pounding. “Did you see that?”
“Yes, good!” Julian knelt beside her. “Try it again, my Noabell.”
She did. The dead plant didn’t always move when she asked it to—it seemed to depend on how she pronounced the words in Shiver, and the words weren’t easy to pronounce. It felt a little like trying to roll shards of ice around in her mouth while singing in perfect tune.
Julian made her practice over and over again until she had made every brown leaf move. Noa’s head began to pound, but she forced herself to focus. Next, Julian brought out one of the fish Anna was planning to cook for supper, still alive and swimming in a bowl. She had just as much success with that as she had with the flower. She thought the fish looked even more energetic than before.
“Interesting,” Julian said. The sun was overhead now, filling the courtyard with sunlight. Most of the mages had left, having realized that Noa wasn’t going to open a gaping portal into the Beyond or summon an army of ghosts, or anything else entertaining. A bead of sweat kept trickling into Noa’s eyes. She was beyond regretting her boots; she wanted to throw them into the sea, then herself after them.
“Perhaps death magic doesn’t give one the power to kill,” Julian went on in a musing voice. He was looking past her, his thoughts somewhere else. “If so, it may not be in opposition to blood magic at all. I’ll have to do more research. . . .”
“I’ll help,” Noa said, standing up. She welcomed the idea of spending time in the cool library. “It’s my magic, after all.”
“Your Highness,” Renne said, appearing from one of the castle doors. “The scouts’ reports are ready.”
Julian nodded. He turned back to Noa, but his attention seemed far away. “Thank you, but it will be quicker if I work alone.”
“But—”
“We’ll continue your lessons tomorrow,” he said, following Renne. When Mite made to go, too, he said, “Not now, Maita. Stay with your sister. I’ll see you at supper.” Mite’s face fell, and he winked and murmured something to the fountain. A cloud of droplets rose into the air, humming like bees. Mite squealed and set to chasing them around the courtyard.
Noa stared at Julian’s retreating back, a flush rising in her cheeks. For a moment, she wondered if he was disappointed in her for not being better at Shiver, and felt an awful, prickly shame rise inside her. But no, it wasn’t that. As usual, Julian just wasn’t thinking about her.
Noa didn’t understand. She had always wanted to be a magician, even before Xavier, before Astrae. Now that she was one, why wasn’t she happy?
She turned and fled the courtyard.
15
Tomas’s Biggest Fan Strikes Again
Noa rose before the sun. She dressed quickly in the darkness, then slipped out of the castle through an unguarded back corridor, pausing only to grab a cake (caramel apple) and a piece of dried fish.
Julian thought they were going to have another lesson that morning. But Noa had no intention of being there. When Julian came looking for her, she would be far, far away. Her lesson yesterday had given her an idea, one that Julian wouldn’t like one bit.
Tomas was waiting for her by the cove where they’d met Beauty, just as he’d promised when she went to see him yesterday. He had the wagon again, covered with a blanket. When he saw Noa, he started.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Noa said with a snort.
“Have I?” Tomas’s gaze darted left and right. “Have you brought one with you?”
“Why would I bring a ghost? They’re not dogs.”
Tomas rubbed his face.
