ㅤ
Tomas arrived for his first tutoring session carrying three notebooks, two practice crystals, and the expression of someone awaiting a sentence. He laid everything on the practice-room bench, then checked the chalk lines on the floor as though they might move.
ㅤ
“Before we start,” he said, “Professor Halden told me you failed your first practical.”
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“Twice, if you count the attempt that broke the testing crystal.”
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“He said you understood why.”
ㅤ
“That took longer than the failure.”
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I asked him to raise his barrier and walk from one chalk line to the next. He made it four steps before the left edge thinned and the whole thing folded inward. Tomas stared at the space where it had been, his shoulders tightening.
ㅤ
“Again,” I said.
ㅤ
“Without telling me what I did wrong?”
ㅤ
“I want to see whether you do the same thing twice.”
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He did. On the third attempt, I stood to his left and held up two fingers whenever the barrier began to weaken. He stopped each time, adjusted his breathing and mana flow, then moved again. The barrier held until he reached the far wall.
ㅤ
Tomas lowered his hands. “So I just need to stop moving?”
ㅤ
“No. You need to stop treating movement as something your spell should ignore. You're feeding the right side more mana every time you shift your weight.”
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He looked down at his feet, then at the chalk lines. “That sounds fixable.”
ㅤ
“It is. We have another forty minutes. Next, we work on correcting it without stopping.”
ㅤ
For the first time since arriving, he smiled.
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
I collected five silver at the end of the session and wrote it into my budget before leaving the practice hall. Halden had given me work because he thought I could be useful; Tomas had paid me because I had helped him identify a problem he could practice correcting. The distinction mattered more than I expected.
ㅤ
I was still short of what I needed each week, but I had a way to earn more that didn't require being away from Mira at night.
ㅤ
Outside, a notice had appeared beneath the departmental timetable: applications for the academy's autumn exhibition would open next week. Demonstrations, research displays, visiting patrons. A place to show work, perhaps, though the entry requirements would probably be more complicated than the poster suggested.
ㅤ
I copied the date. There was no harm in knowing my options.
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
At the secondhand shop near the eastern gate, I inspected three mattresses. The first smelled of damp wool. The second had a seam that moved when I pressed it, which ended that conversation. The third was clean, narrow, and affordable only after I persuaded the owner to include delivery up our stairs.
ㅤ
“Tomorrow morning,” she said. “Someone needs to be home to take delivery.”
ㅤ
“I'll be there.”
ㅤ
I paid a small deposit and left with a receipt, resisting the urge to show it to Mira. She'd already informed me that receipts were not keys, and I suspected she'd have similar views about mattresses.
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
Mrs. Fenwick had put Mira to work sorting buttons by color. There were five piles on the table and one button in Sir Flopsy's lap.
ㅤ
“That's his,” Mira explained before I could ask.
ㅤ
“An excellent choice.”
ㅤ
Mrs. Fenwick handed me a note. “The welfare office sent this by messenger. They asked me to pass it along.”
ㅤ
It was a reminder of our scheduled review, not a summons. The welfare office wanted our updated address, a copy of the approved lease, and a record of Mira’s childcare arrangements. Professor Bellamy had also requested a brief meeting with me the following week. The provisional registration was still provisional, no matter how solid our new key felt in my pocket.
ㅤ
I read it twice. Mira watched my face.
ㅤ
“Are we moving again?”
ㅤ
“No. They want to make sure they know where we live.”
ㅤ
“Because we changed houses?”
ㅤ
“Exactly.”
ㅤ
“Then tell them about the flowers.”
ㅤ
“I'll include the address. The flowers may have to wait.”
ㅤ
She accepted this with visible reluctance.
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
At home, we made a small pot of soup. Mira washed two carrots with such concentration that I didn’t mention the water on the floor until she’d finished. I cut the vegetables, measured the broth, and discovered that the pan was smaller than I’d remembered.
ㅤ
“It's not going to fit,” she observed.
ㅤ
“It will if I make less. We can make another pot tomorrow.”
ㅤ
“But we need some for Mommy.”
ㅤ
“We haven’t invited her yet.”
ㅤ
Mira looked at me as though I'd forgotten a basic household duty. “You wrote it down.”
ㅤ
She was right. I had. My list was becoming more reliable than my memory.
ㅤ
I set aside enough vegetables for another pot and took a spare address card from my bag. Evelyn already knew where we lived, but the back was blank. I wrote a short invitation for supper the following evening, if her schedule allowed it. Mira insisted on drawing a marigold in the corner.
ㅤ
“Now she'll come,” she said.
ㅤ
“The flower improves our chances.”
ㅤ
We left the note with the academy’s internal messenger before heading back upstairs. It was an invitation, not a promise. Mira checked the door twice anyway, as if a reply might arrive before we finished our own supper.
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
Evelyn found me the next morning outside Halden's classroom. She had the invitation folded inside a reference book.
ㅤ
“Your messenger was very serious about the drawing,” she said.
ㅤ
“Mira considers marigolds persuasive.”
ㅤ
“They are. I can come after my afternoon appointment, though I may be late.”
ㅤ
“I’ll make sure the soup is ready.”
ㅤ
“Is that a threat?”
ㅤ
“Yesterday’s attempt was promising. Tonight’s is less certain.”
ㅤ
“Then I appreciate the warning.”
ㅤ
She was smiling when she handed me a second sheet of paper. It was a list of archive references, several of them marked unavailable without a faculty sponsor.
ㅤ
“I found reports of damaged transport circles,” she said. “None mention movement through time. Two describe red illumination, but that's common in certain anchoring arrays. It isn't enough to identify Mira's room.”
ㅤ
“Could Halden sponsor access?”
ㅤ
“Possibly. But he'll want to know why.”
ㅤ
I looked toward the classroom door. “He already knows I'm asking about transport residue. We should decide together how much to tell him before either of us asks for more.”
ㅤ
Evelyn nodded. “Agreed.”
ㅤ
For once, neither of us tried to fill the silence with another theory.
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
The mattress arrived while Mira was with Mrs. Fenwick. I helped the deliveryman carry it upstairs, paid the balance, and made up a place for myself on the bedroom floor until I could afford a second frame. I checked the seams again before putting down the bedding. It wasn’t elegant. It was considerably better than folded blankets.
ㅤ
I put the approved lease, Mr. Pell’s deposit receipt, the first rent receipt, and the childcare note in a folder for Bellamy. Then I counted the money left in the tin beneath my textbooks. Tomas’s five silver covered part of the mattress; the grading wages weren’t due until the end of the week. I still had to choose carefully at the market.
ㅤ
For a moment I thought about the future-dated gold coins, hidden where Mira couldn't find them by accident. They could make several immediate problems disappear. They could also draw questions I had no way to answer and leave us with fewer clues about where she'd come from.
ㅤ
I shut the tin. We weren't there yet.
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
Evelyn arrived after sunset, without a parcel this time. She had changed out of her academy cloak, though her silver hair was still pinned with the same practical clasp she’d worn in the library. I had just moved the soup off the hottest part of the stove.
ㅤ
Mira met her at the door and checked her hands.
ㅤ
“No honey cakes?”
ㅤ
“Mira,” I said.
ㅤ
Evelyn raised an eyebrow. “I was invited for soup.”
ㅤ
“Oh.” Mira considered that. “You can still come in.”
ㅤ
“How generous.”
ㅤ
I took Evelyn's cloak and hung it beside mine. There was room on the peg, but only just. She noticed the new mattress through the bedroom doorway.
ㅤ
“You found one.”
ㅤ
“Clean seams, dry stuffing, delivery included.”
ㅤ
“An impressive set of qualifications.”
ㅤ
“I've become difficult to impress.”
ㅤ
“I've noticed.”
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
The second pot of soup was edible. Better than edible, according to Mira, who ate two bowls and then asked whether the leftovers could be breakfast. Evelyn took a second helping after I told her there was enough.
ㅤ
We talked about Tomas's progress, the courtyard planter, and Marcus's claim that carrying furniture counted as endurance training. Evelyn described a faculty meeting that had lasted an hour longer than scheduled because two professors disagreed about the order of demonstrations at the exhibition.
ㅤ
“You should apply,” she said when I mentioned the notice.
ㅤ
“I haven't decided what I'd demonstrate.”
ㅤ
“Barrier efficiency. You have measurements.”
ㅤ
“Measurements that involve you.”
ㅤ
“Then ask whether I’d like to participate.”
ㅤ
I looked at her. “Would you?”
ㅤ
“If Halden approves a joint proposal, yes.”
ㅤ
Mira raised her spoon. “Can I come?”
ㅤ
“If visitors are allowed,” I said. “We'll check.”
ㅤ
She returned to her soup, satisfied that the adults had finally begun planning sensibly.
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
After dinner, Evelyn helped Mira wash the bowls while I dried them. It took longer than doing it myself, mostly because Mira had questions about every piece of crockery.
ㅤ
“Did you have a blue plate when you were little?”
ㅤ
“I did,” Evelyn said.
ㅤ
“Did Grandma buy it?”
ㅤ
“My mother chose it.”
ㅤ
“Was it pretty?”
ㅤ
“It had little white flowers around the edge.”
ㅤ
Mira considered the bowl in her hands. “We should get one.”
ㅤ
“Perhaps someday,” I said.
ㅤ
Evelyn passed me a rinsed plate. Her expression had changed, but she didn't look away from Mira.
ㅤ
“I'd like that,” she said.
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
At bedtime, Mira asked Evelyn to read the story about the rabbit who tried to become a knight. We didn't own it. Mira explained the plot from memory while Evelyn listened, asking questions whenever the rabbit's decisions became difficult to follow.
ㅤ
“He went into the castle because he thought his friend was there.”
ㅤ
“Was she?”
ㅤ
“No. But he found a dragon.”
ㅤ
“An unfortunate mistake.”
ㅤ
“The dragon was nice.”
ㅤ
“Then perhaps not.”
ㅤ
I stayed in the sitting room and sorted Halden's papers. The story continued for nearly twenty minutes, with several revisions to the dragon's size. By the time Evelyn came out, Mira was asleep.
ㅤ
“She asked whether I would come back,” Evelyn said.
ㅤ
“What did you tell her?”
ㅤ
“That I want to, and I'll tell her when I know the day.”
ㅤ
“Thank you.”
ㅤ
“For what?”
ㅤ
“For not promising something you can't schedule.”
ㅤ
Evelyn looked toward the bedroom. “She listens very carefully to promises.”
ㅤ
“Yes,” I said. “She does.”
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
At the door, I handed Evelyn the copied references she’d left on the table. Our fingers touched as she took them. She looked at me, and I forgot the next thing I’d meant to say. It couldn’t have lasted more than a second before she drew the papers toward her.
ㅤ
“About Halden,” she said. “We can speak to him together after practice tomorrow.”
ㅤ
“Together,” I agreed.
ㅤ
“And Adrian? The soup was good.”
ㅤ
“I'll put that in writing for Mira.”
ㅤ
“She'll believe me without a certificate.”
ㅤ
“She's becoming selective about paperwork.”
ㅤ
Evelyn laughed quietly. Then she left, and I locked the door behind her.
ㅤ
In the bedroom, Mira had kicked off her blanket. I covered her, moved Sir Flopsy away from the edge, and sat for a moment on my new mattress.
ㅤ
The welfare review was still ahead. The archive had offered questions instead of answers. Tomorrow I'd have to decide what a professor could safely know about a child who had arrived from somewhere she called the future.