“If you say so.” Olennika got to her feet. “Time to start cooking for the morning,” she said. She looked tired. When Jory returned Olennika told her, “We will have a trial. Come tomorrow ready to work.”

Jory squeaked and flung her arms around Olennika’s neck. She gulped, released the woman, then spun giddily for a moment. Taking a deep breath to get herself under control, she ran to fetch their coats.

Olennika watched her. “She will be my student in a week, or she will be happy to study with Inagru or Valerian,” she said with a firm nod. “We shall see.” She turned to Daja and smiled ruefully. “There is one thing,” she began.

Someone dropped several pots on the floor. Everyone flinched at the clatter.

Daja’s heart sank, but she could see the problem. “Meditation?” she asked.

Olennika nodded. “Even in my workroom there is no quiet. People come and go in the cellar, in the attics, from the hospital. Will you-“

It was Daja’s turn to smile ruefully. She knew what she had to say; she just didn’t like it. “Yes, of course.”

“It will be best if she meditates before she comes here,” Olennika said as Jory returned with the coats. “She will be good for nothing but sleep when she gets home. Be here by the second hour of the morning,” she told Jory, then turned to answer an undercook’s question.

At Bancanor House, rather than leave the girls at the front door, Serg drove the sleigh into the courtyard next to the boat basin. A stablehand took charge of it and the horses as Daja, Jory, and Serg trudged into the house. Inside they found that supper had been served and cleared away. Daja and Jory went on to the book room, where Kol, Matazi, and Nia sat and read. Jory told them about Olennika: Matazi and Kol took the news well, though they exchanged a glance when Jory announced where her new lessons would be held.

Daja looked at the yawning Nia, then at the clock. “We need to do meditation,” she said.

“Now?” Jory whined. She glanced at her mother: Matazi raised both elegant eyebrows, a look that dared Jory to continue as she had started. Jory looked down.

“Now,” Daja said. She asked the twins’ parents, “It’s just an hour. Will you be awake?”

“Certainly,” Kol said. “I want to finish this book, and my womenfolk keep interrupting.”

“Papa!” Nia cried. Matazi gently kicked her husband.

Daja grinned and towed the girls out of the room. If she ever married, she hoped she would have as much fun at it as Kol and Matazi seemed to.

They returned to the schoolroom. Finding it dark, Daja went to one of the hall lamps, pinched off its flame, and carried it back to light the lamps. Next she drew her circle with her staff. Once that was done, the twins inside with her, she raised her protections to enclose them once more.

“Could you work magic without your staff ?” Jory wanted to know when Daja finished.

“Mages always have staves in the stories,” added Nia. “Remember the story of Deliellen Stormwalker, raising her staff to part the waters of the Syth?”

“We could make it fashionable, perhaps.” Jory’s voice lacked confidence. “Slender, with a jewel for a knob, or ribbons tied to it.” She brightened. “We could learn to fight with them, like the apprentice boys do!”

“I don’t want to fight anybody,” protested Nia.

Daja leaned on her staff and waited for them to be quiet. Jory sighed. The twins took their seats on the floor. Only when they were ready did Daja take her own place, laying her staff on her crossed legs.

“No, you do not need a staff,” she informed them. “I carry one anyway, so I put it to use. Think, both of you! How many mages today did you see carrying staves?”

The twins hung their heads. “We didn’t realize,” Nia said sheepishly.

“Well, you’re mage-students now. You’d better start realizing. Enough. Close your eyes and breath. One… ” She continued the count until they had the rhythm, then stopped counting aloud. Inside the heart of her own power she saw the ragged silver flares that shot away from each of the twins. They flickered more than they had the day before. Even yesterday’s spotty meditation had strengthened their uncontrolled power.

The moment Jory first shifted and opened her mouth, Daja poked her with her staff. Jory inhaled to speak again, Daja raised her brows. She hoped she said as much with the gesture as Matazi did. Jory looked at the floor with a scowl and took up the breathing again. Nia shook her head once, impatiently, but continued to breathe to the silent count. When Jory inched an ankle out from under the opposite leg, Daja poked her. Jory scowled and bounced one knee impatiently. Daja poked her again.

“Stop it, Jory!” snapped Nia. “I’m trying to do this!”

“So am I!” Jory snapped back. “But it’s hard and it gives my legs cramps and I’m bored!”

“If you quit wanting exciting things to happen for long enough to really pay attention, you wouldn’t get bored!” retorted her twin.

Daja watched with interest. Only around outsiders did Nia huddle down like a mouse. It had taken her a week to get comfortable with Frostpine and Daja, while Jory had been in and out of their rooms not an hour after they’d arrived.

“I suppose you aren’t bored?” demanded Jory of Nia.

“No, I’m not!” replied Nia. “Or I’m almost not, but I thought I felt something, and you ruined it!”