As the ever earlier evening settled onto Bradford, Dwayne counted chairs. He knew there were more than enough in Sanford’s day room, all arranged in concentric circles, all carefully cleaned by Rodion, but either he counted chairs and fretted over the buffet, or he paced the room uselessly and fretted over possible inattendance.

  He’d just reached twenty-three when someone asked, “Why are you nervous?”

  Dwayne grimaced. “I always am before a meeting.”

  “Why?” Magdala sat in the twenty-fourth chair. “They all want to be here.”

  “Yes, but,” Dwayne counted another three chairs, “I keep thinking that none of them will come, that it’s all some sort of joke that Chloe or Torben are playing.”

  Magdala scoffed.

  “I know,” Dwayne leaned on the twenty-eighth chair, “but I can’t help it.”

  “What about Thadden’s pamphlet?”

  Dwayne shrugged. “That’s nothing new.”

  “Ah, right.” Magdala shifted in her seat. “Uh…so Francesca might be on to you.”

  Dwayne froze. “What? How?”

  “She’s observant?” Magdala straightened in her seat. “But she won’t tell anyone. And maybe we could even-”

  There was a knock on the door.

  “We’ll discuss this later.”

  Quick-stepping out of the room, Dwayne made his way to the foyer but paused before opening the door. Francesca maybe discovering what he was aside, Magdala was right that the members of the Club wanted to be here, Chloe and Torben probably the most of all. He breathed out his concern then opened the door.

  “Have you seen this?” Chloe tromped into the foyer, flashing Thadden’s pamphlet as she went. “Some minor noble is making absurd claims.”

  Torben joined her. “We know it’s not true.”

  “Of course, it’s not true.” Chloe put her hands on her hips. “What’s our response?”

  Bemused, Dwayne could only gesture down the hallway. “Have a Club meeting?”

  Chloe’s eyes widened then she laughed. “Of course.”

  “We have other things to talk about of course,” said Dwayne.

  “Like what?” Francesca stepped into the foyer. “What else is even half as important?”

  “Miss Lucchesi!” Chloe’s curtsy bumped into Torben. “My sister Cicily says hi.”

  “Tell her hi back. Here.” Francesca dumped a thick folio into Dwayne’s arms. “Tell me which of these do you like best.”

  “Which of what?” Dwayne opened the folio. His eyes widened. “Uniforms?”

  “Yes, uniforms.” Francesca’s eyes gleamed. “I refuse to allow the Royal Sorcerer’s Office to continue to be Her Majesty’s shabbiest office.”

  Chloe peered at the folio. “Is this why you’re here?”

  “Oh, no,” Francesca’s grin made the younger girl blush. “I’m here to join.”

  Dwayne flipped through the folio. It had designs for clerks, guards, the Royal Sorcerer herself, and for someone who’d look good in a coat with slitted sleeves, a jeweled gorget, and a mid-length pleated skirt. That someone, according to Francesca’s notes, was supposedly him.

  “Francesca, I-”

  “You’ll sleep on it of course, but I know you’ll look great.” Francesca looked around. “Are we set up in the day room?”

  “Yes, but-”

  “Excellent. Miss Gordon, Mister Andresen, let’s get everything ready for the others.”

  Before Dwayne could protest further, Francesca dragged Torben and Chloe away.

  “That looks… fashionable.”

  Slamming the folio shut, Dwayne turned back to the door where Nicole stood in a very comfortable looking quilted cloak and woolen cap.

  “Oh, uh…” She blushed. “I didn’t know I was supposed to dress up.”

  “I’m not dressed up. This,” Dwayne gestured at his pink suit, “is what happens when all your casual clothes are only fit for the road. How are you?”

  Nicole gave him a small smile. “Just waiting for winter. I might head back west to the farm. There’s not a lot to do here during the winter.”

  “What do you mean? We have lots of work to do.”

  Nicole gave him a blank look. “We do?”

  “For starters,” Dwayne took her arm and guided her in, “we just discovered that casting with the new Qe cores is far less efficient than with the old spell vials. We must to find out why and figure out how to mitigate that.” That sparked something in Nicole’s eyes, but Dwayne said anyway, “I mean if you want to go back home-”

  “No!” Nicole’s face went pink. “I mean, I’d like to look into that. I just expected that you’d close down the Club for the winter.”

  “No, I don’t think we can.” Dwayne lowered his voice. “We can’t afford the loss in momentum.”

  “I guess not.” Nicole perked up. “I invited my brother!” She sagged. “Was that okay?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Why are you still out here?” Magdala grabbed Dwayne’s hand and pulled him away from Nicole. “You’re the Club Chair, not the Club’s Door Greeter.”

  “Wait, I should-”

  “Miss Fletcher, can you mind the door for us?” Magdala continued to pull Dwayne. “Our Club Chair really needs to be getting ready.”

  “Okay.” Nicole gulped then faced the door.

  “We’ll talk later,” Dwayne called out. As Magdala towed him past the dining room, he whispered, “I always answer the door.”

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “Well, Club Chairs don’t.”

  “What if there are potential new members? Like Nicole’s brother?”

  “Who’s her brother?”

  “Colin Fletcher.”

  Magdala pulled them to a stop. “Colin is coming?”

  “Yes.” Dwayne searched her face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Magdala resumed towing Dwayne to the day room. “It’s just surprising. He’s still in College of Martial Magic.”

  “Ah, right.” The college of the dean they suspected of murder, theft and sedition. “Do you think he came to spy on us?”

  Magdala laughed.

  “What?”

  “Colin Fletcher is far too much of a coward to be a spy. Maybe he’ll slip in and meekly wait to ask you about some trivial point you got slightly wrong. You’ll be fine.”

  They entered the day room, which had been reorganized with most of the chairs now in rows facing the fireplace where Francesca and Chloe argued over the addition of a second chair. Dwayne sighed. He’d really hoped to communicate equal standing among the club members with the chair circle. Obviously, said members disagreed.

  “I don’t see why we need another chair here,” said Chloe.

  “For the Vice-Chair,” said Francesca.

  “We don’t have a Vice-Chair.” Chloe spotted Dwayne. “Dwayne, tell her.”

  “We don’t have one yet.” Dwayne waved away Francesca’s protests. “We’ll stick with one chair for now then sort out additional offices later. We have more than enough to talk about tonight.”

  Magdala leaned in and whispered, “Didn’t you just say you didn’t feel like a Club Chair?”

  Dwayne would have made a face at her, but more and more club members were coming in, so he had to settle for a look before going to stand in front of the fireplace. As he watched the other members collect their goblets of mulled wine and make small talk, he went over how he wanted the meeting to be governed. They would follow the Privy Council’s lead, but he’d read those rule and found them convoluted, arcane, and riddled with rituals that were more concerned about confirming the power of the Throne and than regulating the meeting. If he ever got the chance, he’d go dig through the Indigo Tower or the Archives to find something that would work. Honestly, that sounded like way more fun then running this meeting, where he’d have to improvise.

  “Is that everyone?” Dwayne did quick count. There were four new people, none of them Nicole’s brother. “It looks like that’s most of us so we should get started.”

  “Have you read this slanderous pamphlet?” Young Keith Auer, seated behind Magdala and Francesca, held up Thadden’s pamphlet. “What’s our response?”

  “That’s a larger topic that we’ll get to later,” said Dwayne. “In my invitation, I asked any of you that had the time and the interest to make your own investigations into the Qe core. Does anyone have anything to report?”

  There was a general shuffle as people looked at each other, which was why they needed rules. Just yelling things out would lead to chaos.

  “Just raise your hand,” said Dwayne, “and I’ll call on you.” A hand went up. “Young Deveraux? Go ahead.”

  Edith Deveraux got to her feet. A stout nQe mage, she was two classes below Magdala at the Academy and one of Chloe’s recruits. “I tried using my Qe core to work on my practicals, but it’s like I see too deep? I end up getting weird burns every time.”

  “Burns?” Dwayne stepped forward. “What was your methodology?”

  “Umm… I was just using the core to emulsify oil into water and then suddenly I’m pulling the proper components apart like they’re bread dough. Then I got burnt.”

  “Has anyone else experienced this?” Dwayne looked right at the answer to his own question.

  Magdala sighed. “On the bridge during my part in the demonstration,” they’d agreed that calling it a fight was inappropriate, “I saw something like that, but there isn’t anything smaller than the elementary components. It’s not possible.”

  Deveraux lifted her chin. “I know what I saw.”

  “Let’s investigate further,” said Dwayne cutting Magdala off. “Deveraux, if you have time, please write up your methodology. Are there any nQe mages willing to collaborate with her?” Two hands went up. “Miss Moore? Young Conti? Thank you for volunteering. Let me know if you requite help and make sure to wear protection. Thank you, Deveraux.” As Deveraux sat back down, Dwayne turned to the room. “Anything else?”

  Nicole raised her hand.

  “Yes, Miss Fletcher?”

  “At the door,” Nicole stood up, apparently deciding that that was required, “you asked about the limits of the Qe core’s efficiency…” She trailed off as the room turned to her.

  “I did,” said Dwayne. “Go ahead.”

  Nicole nodded then gulped. “Uh, aside from greater precision control, I haven’t noticed anything, but I have noticed that I can only cast maybe a tenth as many nQe spells as I can Qe spells. Has…has anyone else noticed this?”

  “I’ve noticed,” said young Auer. “I can only do like ten, fifteen water nQe spells before I feel really sick. And it’s worse for earth and wind.”

  “Young Auer, please raise your hand first,” said Dwayne. “But that’s interesting. Have either of you found a way to prevent that?”

  Keith shook his head, but Nicole shrugged. “I just cast my usual spells, and the nausea goes away.”

  “Interesting.” Regretting not having a notebook handy, Dwayne saw Torben’s hand shoot up. “Yes, Mr. Andresen?”

  “What happens if you mixed the two?” Standing up, Torben doggedly ignored the glares the mages shot his way. “I mean if you could switch between casting your usual spells and the, uh, other spells, what happens?”

  Chloe’s hand shot up.

  “Miss Gordon?”

  Chloe jumped to her feet. “Isn’t that a bizarre way to cast? ‘Here, let me make that dye. Now, I have to go move a boulder or else I’ll vomit.’”

  “It’s not a bad idea though,” said Dwayne, causing Torben to beam. “Perhaps it’ll be enough to alleviate the symptoms in a pinch. Yes, young Auer?”

  “Shouldn’t we be happy with this result?” asked Keith standing up as Chloe and Torben sat. “Without the core, I could barely cast one water nQe spell a day. Now I could dye a whole jacket all by myself in multiple colors.” He scowled. “Although that would look awful.”

  “Here, here,” shouted Francesca.

  Dwayne opened his mouth to protest, but Nicole’s hand was already up. “Miss Fletcher?”

  Nicole stood up. “No, we shouldn’t. We need to know why there’s a limit. I mean, why do Qe mages struggle with nQe magic anyway? Is it because we’re made different?”

  “No, it’s because we have the talent.” Colin strode into the room in an unfashionably bright green cloak. “Some people run fast, some people sing well, and some people manipulate the very essence of matter.”

  Francesca rose to her feet. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was invited.” Colin smiled. “But I’ll leave if the Chair insists.”

  “I do not.” Dwayne gestured towards an empty chair. “You can join us, if you wish.”

  “I do not. You lot,” Colin’s arm swept to encompass the room, “are fixated on such small questions.”

  “Mister Fletcher,” Dwayne said through gritted teeth, “the Bradford Thaumaturgical Research Club asks small questions so that it can answer large ones.”

  “Then you’ve been wasting your time.” Colin put his hands on his hips. “The College of Martial Magic already knows why casting with Qe cores has limits: it’s critically flawed.”

  Dwayne’s temper flared, but curiosity made him ask, “How so?”

  “How so?“ Colin floundered for a moment then cleared his throat. “Obviously the core flings magical resonance in every direction. Real mages on the other hand-”

  “Focus the magic. Magdala,” Dwayne turned to her, “could we find a way to do that?”

  “Ahem.”

  “Oh, uh…” Magdala tore her eyes away Colin. “I don’t know?”

  “We could try different shapes,” said Nicole. “Maybe our internal resonators aren’t shaped like spheres.”

  “Ahem.”

  “You can’t make the core a different shape.” Magdala turned to face Nicole. “It would become unstable.”

  “Could we shape them after they’re made?” asked Dwayne.

  Magdala shook her head. “That’ll likely make the core lose its-”

  “Ahem!”

  Everyone turned to Colin.

  His face flushed. “I did not come here to prime yet another inane discussion. I came here to take Dwayne Kalan to task. Come with me.” He swept out of the room.

  “He cannot be serious,” said Magdala.

  “I’m sorry,” said Nicole.

  “Don’t be. It’s not your fault he’s an ass.”

  Dwayne sighed. “I suppose I should go see what he’s up to.”

  Torben jumped to his feet. “We’re coming with you.”

  Immediately, the whole club was on its feet and shouting support.

  Which Dwayne found both heartening and terrifying. “Okay, let’s all go see.”

  Magdala caught up to him as he stepped into the corridor. “Are you sure about this?”

  “I’ll just hear what he has to say.” They passed the dining room. “Maybe he’ll move on.”

  “You can’t believe that,” said Magdala.

  “I have hope.” Dwayne opened the front door.

  “Dwayne Kalan!” Colin now stood in front of a crowd of angry Souran mages. “Tell us. Why you should take the Qe Master’s Examination?”

  Dwayne was right. No one cared about Baron Thadden’s pamphlet.