small cupboard at the back of the room. She took down a short, fat book bound in faded red leather and leafed through it for a moment.
“What does it say?”
“‘Thirteen is of fire and heaven, thus of the sun,’“ Miss Ochiba read. “‘The changes are also of the sun. At dawn, the fire is cool and distant, growing stronger and more passionate as the sun climbs the sky. At noon, the heat is greatest, for good or ill. The afternoon holds strength until the sun falls into twilight. Travel up or travel down; remember balance. Two feet on the ground are unshaken; two feet on the rungs of a ladder are unsteady whether they move up or down.’”
“What?” I said.
Miss Ochiba read it again. I still didn’t understand it, but it didn’t sound too bad, especially the part about “for good or ill.” I said so, and Miss Ochiba smiled again. “The Cathayans think that both people and magic are too complex to be summed up clearly in a few words, so the fewer words they use, the more ambiguous they are.”
I thought about that for a minute. “What about Aphrikan magic?”
“That is too difficult to explain in one short afternoon,” Miss Ochiba said, “and I have lessons to prepare. If you will come again tomorrow, however, I shall be happy to teach you as much as you wish to know, within my own knowledge.”
“Yes, please, Miss Ochiba,” I said.
And that was how I started getting my own extra magic lessons.
CHAPTER 10
F OR THE REST OF THAT YEAR, AND A GOOD MANY YEARS THEREAFTER, I stopped by Miss Ochiba’s classroom when school was over. For the first few days, it was only me, but then William and Lan noticed that I wasn’t coming directly home after school, and came around to see what was up. Then Miss Ochiba asked some of the other students who’d shown an interest, and all of a sudden we were an extra class.
Lan only came for the first few weeks. What with his regular schooling and the extra lessons he was already getting from Papa and Professor Graham, it was just too much time for him to spare. William kept coming, same as me, which was a surprise. I hadn’t thought he’d care for extra work, especially after all the bad things he’d said about learning Aphrikan magic.
But Miss Ochiba could make almost anything interesting, and she knew a lot about Aphrikan magic. Both of her parents had been conjurefolk. Her mother had been brought to Columbia on one of the slave ships, back before the Secession War, and her father was one of the anti-slavery advocates from the Aphrikan colonies in South Columbia. He’d come north with enough funds to buy a whole shipload of slaves free, then settled down in Pennsylvania with Miss Ochiba’s mother to help the abolitionists in the North. So Miss Ochiba grew up learning first-rate Aphrikan magic from her parents at home while she was learning Avrupan magic at school.
By Christmas, we’d learned the first basic spells in the day class—snuffing candles, stopping a rolling ball without touching it, silencing a specially made squeaky machine—and were beginning to work on things that required more energy and concentration, like lighting the candles and getting the balls rolling in the first place. In our after-school Aphrikan class, we were still doing foundation work, which is like a cross between trying to watch everything around you very closely and trying to meditate quietly inside your head, both at the same time. It was very difficult. Miss Ochiba insisted that we keep trying until we could do it to her satisfaction, but she never said what would satisfy her.
We found out unexpectedly, about three weeks after Christmas. It was a bitter day, clear and sunny, but so cold the snow squeaked underfoot and the air outside hurt to breathe. Most everyone hightailed it for home as soon as the regular classes were finished, because everybody knew it would get colder the later it got, and there’d probably be a nasty wind. That was why there were only four of us in
“What does it say?”
“‘Thirteen is of fire and heaven, thus of the sun,’“ Miss Ochiba read. “‘The changes are also of the sun. At dawn, the fire is cool and distant, growing stronger and more passionate as the sun climbs the sky. At noon, the heat is greatest, for good or ill. The afternoon holds strength until the sun falls into twilight. Travel up or travel down; remember balance. Two feet on the ground are unshaken; two feet on the rungs of a ladder are unsteady whether they move up or down.’”
“What?” I said.
Miss Ochiba read it again. I still didn’t understand it, but it didn’t sound too bad, especially the part about “for good or ill.” I said so, and Miss Ochiba smiled again. “The Cathayans think that both people and magic are too complex to be summed up clearly in a few words, so the fewer words they use, the more ambiguous they are.”
I thought about that for a minute. “What about Aphrikan magic?”
“That is too difficult to explain in one short afternoon,” Miss Ochiba said, “and I have lessons to prepare. If you will come again tomorrow, however, I shall be happy to teach you as much as you wish to know, within my own knowledge.”
“Yes, please, Miss Ochiba,” I said.
And that was how I started getting my own extra magic lessons.
CHAPTER 10
F OR THE REST OF THAT YEAR, AND A GOOD MANY YEARS THEREAFTER, I stopped by Miss Ochiba’s classroom when school was over. For the first few days, it was only me, but then William and Lan noticed that I wasn’t coming directly home after school, and came around to see what was up. Then Miss Ochiba asked some of the other students who’d shown an interest, and all of a sudden we were an extra class.
Lan only came for the first few weeks. What with his regular schooling and the extra lessons he was already getting from Papa and Professor Graham, it was just too much time for him to spare. William kept coming, same as me, which was a surprise. I hadn’t thought he’d care for extra work, especially after all the bad things he’d said about learning Aphrikan magic.
But Miss Ochiba could make almost anything interesting, and she knew a lot about Aphrikan magic. Both of her parents had been conjurefolk. Her mother had been brought to Columbia on one of the slave ships, back before the Secession War, and her father was one of the anti-slavery advocates from the Aphrikan colonies in South Columbia. He’d come north with enough funds to buy a whole shipload of slaves free, then settled down in Pennsylvania with Miss Ochiba’s mother to help the abolitionists in the North. So Miss Ochiba grew up learning first-rate Aphrikan magic from her parents at home while she was learning Avrupan magic at school.
By Christmas, we’d learned the first basic spells in the day class—snuffing candles, stopping a rolling ball without touching it, silencing a specially made squeaky machine—and were beginning to work on things that required more energy and concentration, like lighting the candles and getting the balls rolling in the first place. In our after-school Aphrikan class, we were still doing foundation work, which is like a cross between trying to watch everything around you very closely and trying to meditate quietly inside your head, both at the same time. It was very difficult. Miss Ochiba insisted that we keep trying until we could do it to her satisfaction, but she never said what would satisfy her.
We found out unexpectedly, about three weeks after Christmas. It was a bitter day, clear and sunny, but so cold the snow squeaked underfoot and the air outside hurt to breathe. Most everyone hightailed it for home as soon as the regular classes were finished, because everybody knew it would get colder the later it got, and there’d probably be a nasty wind. That was why there were only four of us in
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