As the third child in the family to be accepted to Faraday, Tilli had been bombarded with advice even before she submitted her application. Cadolina swore freshmen should make friends with upperclassmen as soon as possible, her father reminded her not to let her anger take control of her. Her mother suggested she speak up about her innovative ideas, and Sam told her that as long as she was true to herself, she would find her place in no time. At the end of the first week, Tilli couldn't say she had found her place, but she supposed she had found a place. Her group had been thrown together by circumstance, but they made for better dinner conversation than Sam and Caddie, who spent a lot of time trying to figure out which box she belonged in.
Tilli didn't like any of the boxes. Caddie swore Liberty House was for strategists, but Tilli didn't have the patience for that. Westwood had too much of a pack mentality, and Hawthorne was downright weird. And she'd already failed to take her father's advice by yelling at Mrs. Theelnin, which wouldn't endear her to Providence, which Mrs. Theelnin was head of, or Magnolia, where kids tended to be sticklers for the rules. What Tilli needed was a house for artists.
Art class was the one place Tilli felt comfortable. She never talked about it because she knew that with Sam already applying to law schools and Caddie planning her perfect political career, her family wouldn't approve. She'd even opted to take art as her optional eighth course, sacrificing her recess break for it. The only person who knew was her cousin, Applestar.
Art was a quiet bend in an otherwise rushing river of things to do. The reading for her literature and history classes sometimes came out to fifty pages a night, and math only made sense in science class. She knew she should have expected the workload, but even her class on using languages to write magical workings sometimes stumped her linguistically capable mind. And she routinely made a fool of herself in Mrs. Theelnin's class.
"Remember," Mrs. Theelnin would say, "magic is not about size, it's about control. Anyone can create a gust of wind strong enough to knock someone down, especially if they're drunk." Several of the upperclassmen laughed at this. "But a light breeze on which to carry a message? Is something else entirely."
Their first test, scheduled at the end of the week, required them to send a paper airplane to a partner standing around the corner on the balcony. Tilli had practiced all week, and was sure she would fail. Thus far, she had managed to send one airplane high enough in the air that she lost it and to zip her next around the corner so quickly it knocked Mat in the face, leaving a mark on his forehead. But no matter how bad her previous classes were, when Tilli got to art, everything smoothed out.
Their first day in art class, Mr. Teershik had asked each of them to introduce themselves and name their favorite artist. Tilli chose Vasco Painter.
"Vasco Painter?" One of the other students said, "I thought he did magical research for Copperridge University."
Tilli's heart sank when she heard this. She had thought that surely, someone in her art class would know about him. Her teacher came to her rescue. "Vasco Painter is an excellent example for our class. Though he's more famous for his groundbreaking work in illusion magic, he is also a fine artist. Furthermore, his artwork and his illusions go hand in hand. What do you like about Painter's work, Tilli?"
"He tends toward vivid blues and greens. They remind me of the Taend Forest, where my mother's family is from. I also like how he included elements of his life in his work. I have a print of Rolling Hills. And when you look closely at it, there's a lock and key pattern, which represents his binding tattoos."
"Fortunately for the world," Mr Teershik said, "the attempt to bind his magic ultimately failed. Otherwise, we wouldn't have his research or his art." He nodded to Tilli and moved on to the next student.
That success gave Tilli some hope throughout the week. On Wintday, when she woke, Key gave her a nervous look and Tilli knew her roommate felt the same way she did about her upcoming test. Mat was also nervous. Ever since Miriam had shown him where to find the school library, he arrived at breakfast with his nose in a book. But that day, the book remained closed, and he fiddled with the purple ribbon that he used to tie his hair. When Miriam arrived, she looked from one of them to the next, as if trying to decipher some secret shared between the three of them."Are you ready for the test?" Ayan asked as she set her tray on the table.
Tilli pictured the painting of Rolling Hills hanging above her bed and quoted, "If magic had not been difficult for me, I would never have become great at it."
Ayan's eyes popped. "Vasco Painter!"
This reaction took Tilli by surprise. If her art classmates weren't familiar with him, she certainly hadn't expected Ayan to be. "Yeah. Are... you a fan?"
The other girl nodded her head so hard the black braids on either side flapped like wings. "Ever since Audeni introduced me to his work. He was a thief, you know."
"Wait, are you a fan of his illusions or his art?"
"Both," Miriam muttered into a slice of orange-cranberry cheesecake.
Ayan glanced at her roommate with an amused smile. Miriam did not look back. Ayan nodded to Tilli. "Both."
"You know," Tilli said, "Shakif has an art museum with several works by Painter. It's the next stop over on the train. We should go there tomorrow."
"That'd be great! Maybe we could all go."
Mat sat straighter in his chair. "I think... that'd be fun..." he said. Tilli was surprised to hear him speak so adamantly about something. Mat generally behaved as if he was walking on glass and the slightest misstep might cut him to ribbons.
Tilli checked her watch, "We'd better get going to Mrs. Theelnin's class. We can make plans at dinner?" Ayan and Mat both nodded vigorously."Great!" Tilli turned to Mat. "Are you ready?"
"As much as I can be." They stood up and headed for Mrs. Theelnin's class.
When Mat and Tilli arrived in the classroom, most of the class was there already. Some of them were running last minute tests on their airplanes. A few of them looked like they might be praying. Tilli put a hand up to her bone necklace to call strength from it. Surely, she thought, she had done much more difficult things in her past lives, if only she could remember them. Only her fingers touched her bare neck. A chill ran down Tilli's back, and she moved both hands all around her neck, in a desperate hope that the necklace would be there, but it wasn't. She knew she had put it on that morning because she remembered checking the old clasp, which she had forgotten to replace before she and her siblings had left on the train. But if the clasp finally broke, that meant all her past knowledge was lying somewhere in the Faraday grass. Tilli turned toward the door, hoping she could find it before class started, but then Mrs. Theelnin walked in, and everyone took their seats. Tilli, reluctantly did also.
"We'll start with the tests right away," Mrs. Theelnin said, "that way, if you fail, we'll have time at the end of class to work on your technique. Remember, control is key. Seniors first." She nodded to a student from Providence House. He and his partner stood up. As one of them walked out of the classroom and around the corner, Mrs. Theelnin took up a position right at the corner in order to see both partners. She nodded at the boy still in the room. He took a deep breath and concentrated, summoning a breeze. His tie whipped around as a strong gust picked up the little plane and sent it careening around the corner. They heard an excited yelp from the other side of the wall, and Mrs. Theelnin said to him, "You're trying to deliver a message, not take off your partner's head." She indicated the partners switch places.
The rest of the tests did not go much better, with the exception of one pair of girls who did not get a verbal comment from Mrs. Theelnin, but did receive a subtle nod. Tilli could feel her stomach churning. If the seniors who had been studying magic practice and theory for the last three years couldn't do it, then how would she be able to? But her turn arrived, and she was going to have to try.
"Relax," Mat whispered, though he looked as nervous as she felt. "Teachers makes things purposely complicated, remember?"
"Yeah," Tilli whispered back, "but she already hates me. And the upperclassmen can't do it." She fiddled so much with her paper airplane that it tore.
"They're new to wind magic. You're a natural." Mat actually smiled at her as he placed his airplane in her hand and went around the corner.
Tilli tried to steady herself. Mat was right about one thing--she was naturally gifted at wind magic. But Mrs. Theelnin had said control was key and magic was difficult to control when Tilli had butterflies in her stomach. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves and tried to pull the power from around her. Summoning wind was like talking to a puppy. It was playful, but wary, and generally liked to be lured. Here's a lovely little paper airplane for you, she thought, and held it up in the air, like she might hold out a biscuit. She felt the wind pick it up. The next thing she had to do was catch it, as if grabbing a leash to make it heel. She caught a rope of wind in her mind, clutching it to control the larger gust at the end. But as the wind came bounding in, it screeched, like nails against a wall, and the sound broke her concentration. The plane went over the edge of the balcony. No, Tilli told the wind and tugged on the leash. The gust reversed and brought the plane backwards, but she couldn't quite direct it at Mat. She felt it crash into the wall and let it disperse.
Mrs. Theelnin looked at Mat. Then she raised an eyebrow at Tilli. "Impressive." Tilli wasn't sure whether or not this was sarcasm.
Then Mat came around the corner with the airplane. The front was bent from smashing into the wall, and he smoothed it out as he walked by Tilli. Even though she was merely receiving the plane, being able to only see Mrs. Theelnin somehow made the task even more stressful than sending it had been. In their practice sessions, Mat's winds had tended to either die as they came around the corner or swing erratically, sometimes forcing Tilli to chase them down. She hoped it didn't come speeding toward her as some of the others had. She waited with baited breath and touched her neck again, wishing she had her necklace to calm her. She felt the wind first--a slight breeze on her face. Then the airplane sailed around the corner as if perfectly thrown and drifted to the ground, landing at her feet.
Tilli stared. "Very impressive, Mr. Truuit," Mrs. Theelnin said after a minute. Mat peeked around the corner. He said nothing, but he made a face halfway between a smirk and a whistle. Then Mrs. Theelnin beckoned for the rest of the class, so she could show them the perfect landing. She asked Mat to describe what he did to get the wind in control, but Mat had gotten nervous again. He shuffled his feet and backed up until he bumped into someone else.
Mrs. Theelnin walked closer to him and leaned in slightly. "I'm sorry, Mr. Truuit. I didn't catch that."
"I dunno." Though Mat's voice was loud enough to hear, but he directed his comment to the ground. "I did it once before. On accident. I just... I tried to think about that."
This response was enough for Mrs. Theelnin. "Magic is about intention," she said, "You have to be focused on your goal. If you lose focus, even for a short moment, that's when you lose control, and a magical working can go wild. That's why so many workings by young wizards do. When students are first learning magic, they don't have clear intentions. Or they easily lose sight of their intentions. Mr. Truuit had a clear purpose in mind, and he remained focused on it. We will continue to practice until everyone can do it so well." Mat ducked his head, as if trying to get out of sight, and, Tilli noticed, so did that the girls who had previously done well enough to have a mere nod from Mrs. Theelnin. She didn't blame them. Anyone looking at Mat could see he was born for Faraday. Wind wasn't even his natural gift. But Tilli... no matter how many of her family members attended the school... felt less and less like she fit in.
