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Teaching Magic: Manipulating Magic, #1
Teaching Magic: Manipulating Magic, #1
Teaching Magic: Manipulating Magic, #1
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Teaching Magic: Manipulating Magic, #1

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Nyine Hunter's best friend has referred her for a job.

The problem? It's teaching. At a school for the wealthy and well-connected.

Not Nyine's typical line of work. Or preferred circle of people. And she's not sure why anyone would think it's a good idea.

But she thinks it'll be an easy way to make money for a year. Only there is more to teaching magic than classes.

The other instructors see her as an uneducated upstart. Nyine knows magic but she doesn't understand formal education systems. And her students have their own problems.

Just when Nyine starts to feel like she belongs, that maybe she has a future at the school, she learns just how easily she could lose it all.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherAmy Cocke
Release dateSep 22, 2023
ISBN9798223708742
Teaching Magic: Manipulating Magic, #1

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    Book preview

    Teaching Magic - Amy Cocke

    Chapter 1

    I stopped my horse to get my bearings. Never did well to barge into new situations.

    And this was certainly a new situation.

    Swever Hall looked just like any other centuries-old building with such a grand name: a ridiculously large house built out of the pale gray stone native to the area with two three-story wings on either side of the central main entrance.

    Carved stone trimmed the arched doors and windows. Statues of people with swords and books stood on the roof. The road circled before the entry. The bare-branched trees that had crowded the road since I’d turned off the highway gave way to a rolling lawn still dormant and snow-dusted from Fallow. About a moon’s time stood between this region and the green of Planting season.

    Across the lawn, a wall butted against the Hall’s far wing. From the vines and decor along the wall’s top and the conical shape of the trees that poked just above it, I guessed that area to be a garden. Roofs of outbuildings jutted over the garden walls here and there. A bell tower stood at the corner of the near wing. The slightly paler color of the stone told me it had been a more recent addition. Paths wide enough for vehicles, some paved, some not, led deeper into the campus.

    It was what I had expected. Wealth and grandeur had little imagination. Especially here in the central region of the Kingdom, barely a three days’ ride from King’s Place.

    And yet I had come.

    Three moons before, as our part of the world became firmly entrenched in the waning warmth of the Harvest season and most were seeking to end their year’s travels instead of beginning new treks, I had returned to Pucheston, that anal sore on the relative prosperity and stability of the Sky Kingdom that I had called home for the past three years. I’d barely gotten off my horse when Vawna, the woman I rented a room from when I was in town, hustled up to me with a parchment in hand.

    Your friend Dynes sent a message, she said. You are to check your mirror. He sent this to pass on to you. She handed me the parchment, which was odd as I couldn’t read and Dynes knew this. Frowning thoughtfully, she had added, I didn’t even know you owned a far-speaking enchantment.

    Dynes was the reason I had that mirror and it was specifically so I could communicate with him. Otherwise, he would have been there following me around, completely ignoring his own dreams. But Vawna didn’t know all that.

    It wasn’t like Dynes to send a message to make sure I checked my mirror, so once I had found my way to my room, I’d pulled the piece of enchanted mirror from my saddlebag and activated it with a muttered spell.

    Dynes’s face had appeared immediately. I don’t know if you have employment currently, said his recorded voice, but please consider this opportunity. I know it is not a position you would normally take, but I recommended you when they asked if I knew someone who fit their needs.

    It had turned out the parchment Vawna had handed me was from Bejarm Avercraft, the Administrator of the illustrious pillar of magic education where I was now standing. From what I remembered, the school was not in the highest tier of education, but it was elite enough to be filled with children from the minor landholders and the wealthiest merchants and industrialists. Administrator Avercraft had invited me to visit the school and discuss a position teaching a year-long practicum—whatever that was—on magic manipulation. The position would be for the upcoming school year only, though a permanent position was possible if the practicum went well. If I was interested in discussing the offer, Administrator Avercraft asked that I arrive at least a half-moon before classes would start back for the new year.

    Dynes was correct. Working for a school was far from how I had planned to spend the next year. But as a temporary position, it was far more appealing. Have a roof over my head for a year without needing to pay for it? Not spend days at a time choking on road dust as I escorted a caravan? Sounded relaxing.

    And this job meant I wouldn’t have Vawna asking to hire me over Fallow. She and her people had been trying to convince me to take a permanent job with them for years, but I didn’t do that. I’d done staying still. It didn’t work for me.

    So I had sent a message informing the school I would visit to hear the offer and repacked my things.

    I stopped my horse Bray at the bottom of the stairs, dismounted, and tied her to one of the posts lining the side of the driveway. Then I walked up the steps to a set of double doors wide and tall enough for a teamster to drive his load through.

    The entry soared above my head as I stepped through the door. Even with the cavernous ceiling and the stone, the room was warm. A curving staircase built of dark stone, wide enough for five or six people to climb side-by-side, stretched up the right side of the room, leading to a semi-circular and columned balcony that overlooked the entry. Polished and carved beams supported the domed ceiling far above, a ceiling I now realized was striated with narrow rectangular windows. Wealth and grandeur, indeed. The craft mages required to build this place would have been expensive to hire.

    Opposite the front entrance, a dining hall stretched out from the back of the house, while open doorways on either side, one under the staircase, seemed to lead to hallways. A fireplace taller than me stood centered on the left side wall. Three two-seated sofas ringed the floor before the fireplace. Wide doors stood on either side of the fireplace, benches and sigil-powered lamps set beside both doors. An alcove yawned in the right wall where a dark-skinned woman stood, dressed in the simple long skirt and button-front bodice I associated with office workers. The somber rusty black colors made her easy to overlook. I had a feeling that was her intention. Investigator Nyine Hunter? the woman inquired.

    Former investigator, yes. I turned toward her.

    I see. Her tone said my title wasn’t relevant to her. My name is Secretary Vargaren. Administrator-Minor Solak will be with you shortly.

    Do I have time to care for my horse? I asked.

    I will call for a stable hand, she told me before disappearing through the door again. I shifted before the door closed and saw the room was a small, immaculate office, with a set of double doors leading into another room behind it. Maybe the Administrator’s office?

    I stepped back out the door and waited until a young man who looked just barely into his apprenticeship approached. Investigator Hunter? he asked.

    Yes. I didn’t bother correcting him. I passed over Bray’s reins. Careful. She bites some. Never know when.

    Yes, Investigator, he responded, though his expression said he considered himself a far better horseman than the odd woman in front of him. Then Bray snaked her head around and grabbed his upper arm. I smirked at his yelp and re-entered the Hall.

    After a few minutes of watching people hurry through the entry, all giving me curious glances, a very round man, just a bit shorter than me, hurried in my direction. His skin was light golden-brown, he wore a robe in an orange color a sunset would envy, and what was left of his dark hair was graying.

    Investigator Hunter! he said brightly through puffing breaths. I am Administrator-Minor Venshim Solak. Come, come. Let us take a walk through the gardens as we talk, yes? Such a wonderful day for a walk.

    I wanted to ask if he was certain his heart could take the exercise, but somewhere in my thirty-two years, I’d learned to curb my tongue. Sometimes, anyway. Instead, I merely walked at his side as he led me back out the door and around to the gardens on the left side of the building.

    So delighted you could take the time to hear our offer, Solak said. We feel you are uniquely suited to instructing this practicum.

    I would like to know why, I said. I’m not sure how I could be seen as an instructor. I have no formal education. My only formal education had been an evaluation by Administrator Pike at Nesdigh when I was seventeen. And I was at Nesdigh only because the school had been ordered to evaluate my magical ability. He didn’t need to know that. Telling Solak that would only lead to him asking questions I didn’t want to answer.

    He chuckled. Precisely why we believe you fit this role. Please, tell me, what is Swever Hall known for?

    I shrugged. Most of the Kingdom’s schools were known for one or two specialties, and I’d met enough former students in my previous life to feel that general knowledge was fairly accurate. Adept soldier-mages. Unlike Nesdigh, which turned out superior beings who enjoyed snubbing everyone else because they couldn’t possibly be smarter or more skilled. Those few days spent at the school during the evaluation had been some of the most annoying in my life. The faculty who’d been forced to work with my friends and I had probably felt the same way about us.

    He tilted his head and gave me a small, cunning smile.

    Hm, more to this man than the cheerful scholar he looked to be.

    Only that?

    Well, I guess there have been some famous graduates. If he wanted a history lesson, he was going to be disappointed because I couldn’t actually name any of those people. Schooling had never been one of my interests.

    ‘Mages of note’, he said. As our placards around the realm proclaim. Rewen Tillat the Fire-Willed, Sesqia of the Reaches, Brenne the Whisperer. And others. Those are perhaps the most infamous. Though we are not the top school for training battle mages in the Sky Kingdom, there are other institutions who strive to be even a tenth as accomplished as we are.

    I lifted an eyebrow. Your confidence is striking.

    He laughed. The school is particularly gifted at taking average mages and making them very good through a disciplined and rigorous curriculum so they may return home to be useful for their families. I detected a bit of sarcasm in those words. Hm, the Administrator-Minor didn’t like that, did he?

    We turned a corner along the garden path and a small lawn opened before us where a group of adolescent girls and boys sat in a circle talking. The students glanced over at us with murmured greetings to Solak and curious glances at me, but returned to their conversation. Solak continued, However, we have found not all students flourish under the mantle of discipline.

    I snorted. I likely would have been one of those students had I grown up in circumstances that would bring me to a school like this.

    He turned to face me. We have several students who flounder in their studies. They have been tested. All are exceptional in their potential for magic use. He paused, eyes holding my gaze pointedly. They struggle with spell work and potion-making for various reasons. Their school records reflect this. They have been unable to choose or be accepted into specialties. Without a specialty, they cannot graduate. Nor would they be able to find employment. And so, they have become difficult students in their own ways. Their instructors are ill-equipped to respond to their needs.

    What he meant was their instructors refused to be flexible enough to find a different way to teach that those students might understand better. Solak dipped his head slightly in acknowledgment of whatever expression I had made.

    We believe learning to manipulate magical energy as you do, the old magic as you call the practice, will give these students a tool to become the powerful mages their natural talent tells us they could be.

    I dropped my eyes to stare down at the cobblestone path we stood on. That was a noble idea, but… I grew up doing magic this way. Everyone around me did. You understand the dangers of introducing this method of magic at this stage in their lives?

    His chuckle told me he understood all too well. I am a scholar. Throughout my career, I have been told the dangers of magic manipulation and reminded why a reliance on spells and potions grew to popularity so quickly when introduced to our kingdom during the last dynasty. And yet, I cannot ignore that our ancestors worked magic this way for generations before we were introduced to spell-casting.

    What he wasn’t saying was how much people liked to ridicule people who used the old magic. I certainly didn’t go around my day telling people I preferred to use old magic. Most of the people I had worked for in the past few years didn’t care how I did things, as long as their goods stayed in their wagons and the wrong people stayed out of their businesses.

    This is why we approached you with our offer. Few people are capable of allowing these children to flail about until they find their own ground. Who understand when to stand back and when the magic is too much. His lips twisted into a wry smile. You seem to have a natural gift for pushing others to explore their magics. Master Artificer Dynes Weaver speaks highly of you. He gives lectures here during the interim sessions.

    Ah, so that was why Dynes had wanted me to come here so much. It wasn’t just that he felt it was a good opportunity. It would also give him a chance to check up on me.

    Why Dynes considered me a friend, I’ve never figured out. I was more cruel than kind in our adolescent days. He’d grown up to be an extremely forgiving man.

    Wait… Master Artificer?

    Oh? You hadn’t heard?

    I’ve been living on the road, Administrator-Minor. Your invitation came to me in Pucheston. The news there tends to focus more on whether the smugglers were raided again and how much the rich visitors were taken for than on an inventor’s accomplishments.

    His eyes widened, then he chuckled. I considered Pucheston and the surrounding region of the Dreves an anal sore. Someone like Solak probably saw the place as a certain death. Indeed, indeed. Yes, Dynes received his guild approval at the end of Growing this past year. From what I understand, he has been involved in establishing his patents since then.

    I didn’t stop the soft smile that stretched my lips. Dynes had finally accomplished all of his goals. Received the guild’s rather grudging approval, I’ll bet. Dynes was my age. A couple of months younger, actually. The youngest Master Artificer I knew of before him was in his forties.

    There was a bit of pressure on the guild by the royals and the military, from what I understand. Everyone knew he has the talent and knowledge to pass the testing. The panel was just being grumpy.

    Grumpy. One way to put it.

    And what Dynes told you is…favorable to you? What had Dynes said? I knew Dynes wouldn’t have told him how I had ended up working for the Tribunal with him. That didn’t mean I didn’t live with the fear that he had. As far as most of the world knew, Dynes and I had met while working for the Tribunal. They didn’t know we had grown up together. What we had experienced together.

    Also, I’d helped Dynes learn tracking magic by abandoning him in a ravine when we were ten. He had eventually made it back to the village we’d grown up in—by using skills that had nothing to do with tracking magic and everything to do with the fact that Dynes didn’t see things the way the rest of us did.

    That example wasn’t a positive reflection on my teaching skills. The village adults certainly hadn’t thought it funny.

    He looked me squarely in the eye. Yes. I felt some tension pour out of my neck at his words.

    There is another element to your appeal to us. Your background and your references speak to a certain—flexibility of the mind.

    My brow furrowed. What did that mean?

    He smiled gently at my obvious confusion. Something others may consider a liability, but we see as a valuable asset. You became a valued investigator for the foremost law enforcement agency in our realm, despite your lack of education and training in investigative techniques. You mentioned a few moments ago that you have emerged, seemingly unscathed, from one of the most lawless— Here he grimaced. —areas of the realm.

    I grinned a little at that.

    It is obvious you are an adaptable person. If you can pass your problem-solving skills to the students as well, this experiment of ours will be a quite the success.

    I doubted I would be allowed to teach these students the way I had learned. Life-or-death situations worked as motivation, but the parents would probably be unhappy to have their children come home traumatized.

    He took a deep breath. Now, before we move on, I do need to warn you of difficulties you may face in this role. There are many people who feel strongly that a class on magic manipulation is a waste of school resources at best. You will likely face some pushback.

    I held in my scoff. He apparently didn’t realize that I had been dealing with that pushback for years. Ever since I left the village I’d grown up in, really. I understand.

    Now, to the specifics. The pay is decent and includes room and board for both yourself and your horse. As a temporary instructor, you will report directly to myself. Should you remain here as a full-time member of our faculty after this first year, you will receive a budget for supplies and continuing education, in addition to an increase in salary. All of that will be detailed in your contract. This school year is a trial period. Upon the end of the year, we will meet to renegotiate the terms of your contract if we wish to continue your employment. Should this role not move forward, we may offer you another position, perhaps as a weapons instructor. Do you accept our offer?

    Do practically nothing at a posh boarding school for a year? Or hurry back to Pucheston before the snows hit and hope to find a job to sustain me through Fallow? Hmm, such a difficult question.

    Yes, I said. When do I start?

    Excellent, excellent! You can move in as soon as your contract is signed. Secretary Vargaren will have that available. We will take this time before the start of classes to introduce you to the school and your duties.

    I expected to see more students, I commented.

    The graduates left after last year ended, of course, he replied. About half of those continuing this year returned home after examinations. You will see most of them arrive in the next half-moon. Those who are here now either could not afford the travel or enrolled in one of the seminars offered by the school during Fallow.

    Was it fortunate for me or not that Dynes hadn’t been teaching one of his seminars this time around? I wasn’t sure if I was ready to see him again after several years of only communicating through mirror messages.

    More schooling? I said to distract myself from that thought.

    We require students who remain here during interim sessions to either be enrolled in coursework or have employment in the area, Solak said. The Upper School takes the place of formal apprenticeship for most of our students. Seminars allow them to add depth to their specialties or learn skills we have not made part of the curriculum here.

    Because so much of the curriculum focused on teaching battle magic and weapons to wealthy citizens who would never set foot on a battlefield. I somehow managed to keep my eyes from lifting to the sky at that.

    Welcome to Swever Hall. I believe this school year will be a success for all of us, especially our students. Now, I have an appointment with a student. Let me return you to Secretary Vargaren so you can discuss your contract.

    Is it all right if I check on my horse first? I would like to see her settled. More like I needed to make sure she hadn’t done permanent damage to the stable hand, but Solak didn’t need to know that.

    Of course, of course. He gave me directions to find the stable from the garden before we parted ways.

    Chapter 2

    The stables and yard were an ode to good horsemanship. A brick courtyard separated the stable building from the corner of the school, with a path in matching brick leading around to Hall’s driveway. The courtyard was kept swept, based on the lack of horse leavings I saw on those bricks. An empty tie rail stretched to either side of the open aisle way doors. The stable itself was built out of the same stone as the Hall.

    I entered a long aisle. Tack rooms with walls full of saddles, bridles, and harnesses stood on both my right and left. I thought I saw my own dusty saddle and bridle in the one to the left. The stalls began immediately after those rooms, with horses of all colors peering at me over half-doors.

    I must have looked lost, as a young stable hand stopped and pointed me to Bray’s stall. Apparently, Bray had already given me a reputation.

    A man dressed in a plain, dusty tunic and trousers tucked into mid-calf boots was leaning against the stall door with his arms draped over the top. Perhaps a more senior stable hand?

    An unsaddled and rubbed down Bray stood in straw piled up to her knees and hocks while the mare munched down gleefully on a massive pile of green, sweet-smelling hay. She looked up, saw me, dismissed me, and returned to her bounty.

    Well, if those are her accommodations, I can’t wait to see my own. I leaned my elbow on the stall wall and winked at the man. He was cute enough, but not remarkable—no more than a couple of years older than me, brown-skinned, dark brown hair lightened by the sun to reddish tips, not as broad with muscle as the men in my village had tended to be, but not slight, and about my height. Maybe he’d be open to some fun.

    Unlike some of my predecessors, I’ve always striven to maintain adequate quarters for my faculty. He turned his head to give me a lazy smile before pushing away from the stall door to stand upright.

    Mmm, the smile was nice, too…wait, my faculty? He touched his hand to his chest and leaned his head slightly forward in a standard Lower Kingdom form of greeting. I am Administrator Bejarm Avercraft. It’s a delight to finally meet you. I hope I may address you as Instructor Hunter?

    As I glanced over him again, I realized that while his clothing was dusty and plain, it was made of considerably finer cloth than any stable hand I’d ever known in my life could afford. You, as well, Administrator. Thank you for this opportunity. It’s certainly different from my other roles. There. Perfectly pleasant.

    Mm. I understand you were most recently in Pucheston. At the end of your first week, you may find not so much a difference between life in the Dreves and teaching adolescents.

    I tried to match his lazy grin. I’ll be spending most of my time tossing drunks off the prostitutes?

    Why did I say that?

    Bray snorted at me. She was probably laughing, the beast.

    Did he almost smile? I wasn’t sure because he stepped back from the stall door. How was your travel?

    Well enough.

    Good. I doubt you have had the time to meet with Secretary Vargaren to sign your contract.

    No. I am on my way there now. I just wanted to check on Bray. Who looked far more comfortable than I felt at the moment.

    I am returning to my office now, if you would like to walk with me?

    Sure. Well, of course I needed more opportunities to say inappropriate things around the person who ran the whole place. It would probably be best if I didn’t speak at all.

    Back in the entrance hall, Avercraft led me to the alcove Secretary Vargaren had appeared from earlier. May we see the contract you prepared for Instructor Hunter? he asked the older woman.

    Of course. She pulled a scroll from one of her desk drawers and passed it to him.

    He presented the scroll to me. I took it, then stared at him.

    This contract will give you the full details of your role here at Swever Hall, the dates of your assignment, and all salary and benefits conferred upon you as a temporary member of our faculty. These benefits include your housing and meals. Read over the document and then we can discuss any details. He shifted his weight, already preparing to walk through a door I assumed was his office. Do you have any questions?

    Yes, I replied. Is someone available to read this to me?

    He blinked.

    I cocked up my brows to emphasize my question. Ah. Yes, Avercraft said after that

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