Ms. Wendy

The inside of the Flooded Garden reminded Airi of the Upper Palace: empty and expensive-looking, with a pool of water indented into the floor and mysterious waterfalls that trickled down into it.

“So, how’s my favorite student?” Wendolyn asked Mildred, stirring a sugar cube into her tea. The people of this world sure loved to drink tea.

“I was your only student, Ms. Wendy,” Mildred said.

Wendolyn smiled. “You were the only one worth teaching. And you still are. That useless Narcissus didn’t want anything to do with me, and Marianne was busy writing her own spell.” She snapped her fingers at Airi. “Pass the sugar.”

Airi handed Wendolyn the sugar bowl, and the mage took another sugar cube. As she did, her eyes lingered on Airi’s crystal arm.

Unsettled by the woman’s gaze, Airi fumbled in the satchel for Marianne’s letter. She slid it to Wendolyn. “Here. Marianne told me to give this to you.”

Wendolyn ripped the envelope and scanned the letter. She tossed it over her shoulder into the pool, where it sank slowly into the depths.

“Charybdis again. Can’t she come up with anything new? I’m tired of hearing about that thing,” Wendolyn sighed.

“‘Come up with?’” Airi couldn’t stay silent any longer. “What do you mean by that?”

Wendolyn’s smirk was distinctly condescending. “I mean that Charybdis doesn’t interest me. Nor do Marianne’s attempts to befriend me. There is nothing in Magisbury that interests me.”

Out of all the mages Airi had met, Wendolyn was now competing with Snow White for “worst personality.” Snow had been arrogant, but at least he’d cared about others’ opinions of him.

Wendolyn continued, “I’d rather stay here in peace, without people begging me for private lessons and recommendation letters, or Marianne breathing down my neck about diplomatic gifts for the king. I know Mildred feels the same way.”

Mildred looked up from her tea, abruptly. “I don’t.”

“I know you, Mildred. You don’t care for their petty drama either, do you?” Wendolyn pressed, leaning forward. “Remember that time your wind research took four months to get approved, when the king was angry that a storm had destroyed part of the city wall and blamed it on you?”

“...Yes.”

Wendolyn smiled. “Here, there’s no such problem. I can do whatever I want. You should consider moving out here, Mildred. Your research would make leaps and bounds.”

“No, Ms. Wendy.”

Throwing back her head, Wendolyn laughed. “You still call me that. You really haven’t changed a bit.” She drained her tea. “Go back to Magisbury and tell Marianne that I’m not interested in going back. You’ll have to deal with Charybdis by yourselves.”

Mildred got up, scraping her chair back. “Fine.” She seemed far more subdued in Wendolyn’s presence.

“But—” Airi started to say.

“There’s nothing more we can do. We can’t force her.” Mildred jerked her head towards the window, and Airi remembered that they were facing the most powerful water mage in the world. In the middle of a lake.

Airi got up to follow Mildred. She was aware of Wendolyn’s eyes fixed on her crystal arm.

“Airi. That’s your name, isn’t it? What do you think of my pool?” asked Wendolyn.

Airi paused at the edge of the pool and took a cautious look. It took up most of the room, so deep that she couldn’t see the bottom. For all she knew, it was connected with the lake itself.

Suddenly, she felt pressure on her back, and someone shoved her in. Instead of sinking, though, she found herself trapped within a watery cage that formed from the surface of water. She punched at the bars, which only wavered slightly.

Mildred ran to the edge of the pool and tugged at the bars. “What are you doing, Ms. Wendy?”

“Sorry, Mildred. You can have her back after a month or so, but she interests me,” Wendolyn said, casually adjusting her gloves. She smiled at Airi through the bars. “I’ve never observed a growth of lithic mana on a living being before. I wonder, is it something in your blood?”

Fear spiked through Airi. “Let me go!” she said, pulling on the bars. How could water feel so solid?

“You won’t get out by yourself,” Wendolyn said. “I’m afraid that even a water mage wouldn’t be able to break free of that cage. But don’t worry. I’ll give you food and ensure your survival until I’m done researching you.”

“Let her go,” Mildred said.

Wendolyn patted Mildred’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to stay. You can go back to your wind research, and I’ll return her to you in a month’s time.”

Mildred ignored her. She pulled out The Great Ocean and began reading it, line by line. When she was done, the watery cage bars only shivered slightly. Mildred tried again, repeating the spell over and over. Airi, watching her, felt very odd.

Wendolyn’s red lips curled smugly. “Oh, Mildred. You can’t break my spell, any more than I can cast your wayfinding spell. Besides, you haven't written a spell since you were five years old. How can you hope to—”

“Wendolyn,” Mildred said.

“Hm?”

“Shut your mouth. Your voice is getting on my nerves,” Mildred said calmly. She bent over The Great Ocean again.

Wendolyn looked surprised.

“...You’ve changed, Mildred,” she said. “How interesting.”

“‘...a hundred thousand fish dwelled beneath the ocean’s surface...’” Mildred read without looking up.

“‘Hidden to the world above, they darted through the great ocean,’” Wendolyn finished. The cage bars dropped away, and Airi splashed into the pool below. Gasping, she swam to the side of the pool, and Mildred helped to drag her out of the water.

Wendolyn watched Mildred dry Airi’s hair with her sleeve.

“...I’m curious about how Marianne and the others have changed, too. Looks like I will be returning to Magisbury after all.”

Far away, in the quiet village of Star’s End, a certain doctor poured water into cups by the sickbeds. Two more patients had called in with mana fever today, and the room was full.

“More water, Jane!” she called out, holding out the empty pitcher. Her eldest daughter ran into the room, looking nearly as tired as she did. “Thank you, love. You know I hate to drag you away from your family, but this is too many patients to handle alone.”

Jane took the pitcher and paused at the door. “Mom, Nestor still... hasn’t come back home?”

The doctor’s hands froze for a moment. “Jane. That boy is dead to me.”

Jane nodded obediently and didn’t press the matter further. She was a good child, like Eliza and Charlie and Fitz. Only Nestor ever disobeyed her. The doctor’s first mistake had been letting his father give him a mage’s name. Ridiculous. Encouraging the boy to become a mage from birth.

One of the patients groaned in pain. The doctor pressed her hand to his forehead. She’d already given him her strongest herbs, and yet...

Her vision blurred and her limbs felt heavy. Were the long nights finally catching up to her? But no, this was different. She couldn’t even make it to her bedroom before collapsing in the hallway.

When Jane found her mother, the doctor was breathing evenly. Sleep had softened the crease in her brow.

Frantic, Jane ran downstairs, past the bookshelf and out the door.

On the bottom shelf of the bookshelf, an unassuming row of fairytales gathered dust. The Sleeping Princess was one of them.