“I can’t help it. I keep thinking about things.” It was Jory again. “There’s a crick in my neck.”

“Shake it out and start over. Be quiet inside, Ravvikki Jorality,” Daja ordered, using the Namornese word for “Miss,” knowing she sounded as dry as the twins’ other teachers. The girls responded instinctively to the schoolteacher voice, straightening backs and shoulders, composing their faces.

Daja counted through another three rounds of in, hold, out, hold, before Jory scrambled to her feet. “I have a cramp!” she told Daja, massaging her calf. “This is a silly way to sit!”

“Jory, would you please hush?” demanded Nia. “I almost had it!”

“Mouse turds,” Jory retorted. “You didn’t almost have anything.”

“Sit in a way you’re comfortable,” Daja ordered. “I’m not letting you out of the circle until you really try, and not just for a moment or two.”

“Then why don’t I just-” Turning, Jory walked straight at the protective barrier. She struck the curved dome headfirst. Her hair stood on end, clinging to the magical bubble, and Jory’s knees buckled. She dropped to the floor, pulling her long hair free.

“Sit comfortably,” Daja said as Jory tried to pat her hair down. “You make this harder when you fuss.”

Jory sat with her knees bent to one side. She soon developed cramps in the arms she used to support herself, and switched to the other side. That arm went to sleep. Next she stretched out on the ground. By then the looks Nia gave her had gone from impatient to murderous. Daja was even starting to feel cross.

When the clock struck downstairs, they all sighed with relief. Daja reached over to rub out a handspan of her circle. As the barriers collapsed, she drew her power back into herself. “Come back here tomorrow, and we’ll do it again.”

Jory groaned.

It occurred to Daja that Jory would fight her until Daja made it clear that she was in charge. Now she walked over to stand between Jory and the door, leaning on her staff as she stared into Jory’s eyes. “Maybe you could go all your life with magic just making a little trouble for you because you never got the discipline,” she said, her voice so quiet that the twins had to lean closer to hear. “Maybe,” Daja told them. “And maybe your magic will break loose and cause a disaster. It happens. Will you behave, or do I speak with your parents?”

Jory pouted. “I’ll behave,” she said at last.

“Here. Tomorrow. Same time.” Daja stood aside, letting the twins dash away to change clothes. To the empty room she murmured, “That could have gone better.” She rubbed her head. The trouble with meditation was that it was harder to talk about it than it was to do, and she was not the best talker. Why couldn’t Briar, or Tris, teach the twins?

The thought made her smile. Briar would end by tacking Jory to the floor with thorny vines. Tris would have the girl so terrified that Jory would be able to think of nothing, including the control of her power.

Yawning, she descended the stairs to wash up for supper. If only she could show them that cool, bright place she went to when she meditated. Then she wouldn’t have to worry-unless the places the twins carried within themselves looked and felt completely different. She had to match them up with proper teachers. Then Jory would be someone else’s headache.

In the hope that Frostpine could advise her, she checked his room. It was dark and chilly: in all likelihood he was out on his investigation. Daja sighed, then fed warmth to the hearthstones. They would hold it for hours, heating the room until the servants came to build the night’s fire. Then she went to change.

When the supper bell chimed, Daja opened her door to find the twins. They wore supper clothes; their masses of hair were neatly combed, Nia’s braided, Jory’s tied back with a broad ribbon. “What about teachers?” Jory asked. “Did you find one?”

Daja looked down to hide her smile. So Jory at least hadn’t enjoyed her teaching, either. “I found several,” she replied when she could keep her face straight. She followed them to the stairs. “Now we have to meet those who will take a student. You have to pick the one who seems right for you.”

“But Mama picks our teachers,” Jory argued as she rattled down the stairs.

“Well, this is different,” Daja told her bouncing back.

“If Daja says you are to choose, you are to choose,” Matazi informed her daughters when they asked about it over supper.

Kol nodded agreement. “Around here, we leave mage things to mages. When can you start taking them to these teachers?” he asked.

Daja looked at the twins. “Tomorrow.”

“You’ll have Serg to drive you for the day,” said Matazi. “You two, pay attention, and think before you choose. You can’t just go changing teachers whenever you like. Jorality, are you listening?”

Jory exhaled a tremendous sigh. “Mama,” she complained.

“Your mother is right,” Kol added firmly. “No trying this one, or that one, and deciding you want someone else in a month. These are busy people. They’re good enough to offer to teach you, and you will be good enough to treat it seriously.”

Jory stuck out her chin and met her father’s level gaze. Immediately the chin retreated; she looked down. Very quietly she replied, “I will, Papa.”

Chapter 5

The following morning Daja was awake when she heard giggles and the click of the door-latch; she was rarely caught by surprise the same way twice. She sat up and glared at the twins when they came in. “Do you find this amusing?” she inquired.