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Part 1 of The Foldings
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2013-09-03
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2018-02-10
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12/?
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The Foldings: Ten Years Earlier

Chapter 3: Caution: Fire May Be Hot

Summary:

On the second day of being the world's most-confused magical test subject, Jasper makes enemies, takes unexpected flight and plays with fire.


Chapter Text

Jasper was there early. He’d set out the moment the Earl dismissed him that afternoon, catching a ha’grot ride on the back of a carriage for part of the distance, then running after the delivery airship with the castle’s load and getting them to throw him a rope for the last few streets. He knocked on the kitchen door, and Sally, the cook, had blinked at him.

“I’m here to see Micah. He asked me.”

Sally frowned up at him, shaking her head in disbelief. “Then what are you doing down here? It’ll take you ages to get up all the stairs. Try the big door.” She pointed to the door slightly above them, to the right, off the street level.

“No, it’s a job thing, it’s not for, well, government reasons.”

“You’re new here, but I’m not. Just go to that door, and you can thank me later. It’ll save you a lot of wear and tear on your knees.” She smiled kindly, but stepped back and closed the door in his face.

He went back up to the street level, scratching a hand through his hair self-consciously, but pulled on the bell-rope and waited. A big man with a big mustache swung the door open and waited, just looking at him. Jasper had the feeling the man spent all his days standing behind this door, and opening it periodically, randomly, just to see what was happening on the street, without ever letting anyone come through it. He swallowed, and repeated, “I’m here to see Micah. He asked for me.”

“And you are?” the man asked calmly.

“Jasper. I work for the Earl of Ryebury.”

The butler nodded, and stepped back. “Welcome to Farek en Innen Ciel.”

“Yeah, I’ve been,” Jasper said, stepping inside with a bashful smile. “Is there somewhere I should go? Or wait? I’m supposed to work with him in the lab, but there’s no way I’d find that again myself.”

The butler gave a short lip-twitch that might have been the professional version of a smile. “Of course, śeo.”

“I’m not a śeo,” Jasper began.

The butler paused and turned back to him. “Śeo, you are a śeo, śeo. Everyone is a śeo until they have been here twenty years, or are proven to be under five years old. And sometimes even then.”

“What if she’s four?”

More lip movement hidden behind facial hair. “Are you, in fact, four years old?”

“I didn’t say me!”

“No, but your point is well taken. Follow me, little girl.”

Jasper laughed, but the butler didn’t do anything so common. He turned and led Jasper  off through a side door, around a bend, and into a wide, spacious hallway with white stone floors. He stopped beside one of the doorways and produced a key from his pocket. “Through this door, and up all the stairs,” he said, unlocking it and stepping aside. “Then along the corridor to the end. The door will be on your right. Do you have that, little girl?”

Jasper grinned against his will, shaking his head at the man and wagging his finger. “You and me, we’re going to have to get into this, someday. Do I have time to teach you a lesson right now, Happy?”

“It’s Briggs, child. And regrettably, you will need all of your breath for the stairs.” He tipped his head and withdrew. 

“I know where you work!” Jasper called after him, and opened the door. The stairs were wide and wooden, light drifting down from some window two stories up. There were only three stories to go, which seemed restrained, given the scale of the place. It had seemed far longer yesterday, but then he had come in a different door. He tried to fit it into his mental map of the city and gave up. These were different stairs.

Jasper paused on the second landing. There was a wide, comfortable window seat that jutted out from the building into the arms of an enormous oak tree, the huge branches within reach and easily large enough to support him and ten of his friends. The view between its dense branches wasn’t anything he recognised as Lunule—he’d swear he could almost make out a wide patch of blue sky. Looking around quickly, he pressed his face to the bottom of the window to get a better look. Craning awkwardly, he made out a grassy lawn and low buildings and what looked like gardens cascading away down a steep slope. Not Lunule at all, then.

The hallway at the top was long and dark, with several doors on the left side, but only one on the right, at the very end. Jasper opened it and recognised the cramped, winding stairs up to the lab from yesterday. So not only was he not in Lunule, but the stairs moved, too. He couldn’t help feeling mildly impressed; castles housing magical laboratories should move and this one clearly knew what was expected of it.

He tried to knock, but was cut off by the door being wrenched open suddenly. “Come in, come in.” The man was already back at his workstation, waving a welcoming hand over the top of a huge mirror. 

“Uh, it’s Jasper,” he called, hesitating on the threshold.

“Please, would you mind closing the door again? It cuts down on air circulation.”

Jasper moved slowly, looking around at all the mirrors set up haphazardly on stands, leaning against chairs and tables, a few hanging seemingly in mid air and cluttering everything with random light splashes. “Sure you don’t need some air?”

“It throws off the light,” the man answered. Jasper already had a hard time spotting him among all the reflections. He paused to watch in a mirror as the man twisted something together. It was an interesting face, Jasper decided. He wasn’t conventionally handsome, but there was a lively sharpness to him, as if his intelligence had somehow shaped his long nose, the set of his mouth, or the dark blue of his eyes. He couldn’t help liking him, the way he switched from curiously enthusiastic to formal, even slightly awkward. It wasn’t at all what he’d expected from the heir.  

“Shall I just wait back here?”

“Wherever you like...” The voice trailed off. There was a flash and a pop. “Ocray. Orange again. No, it’s fine, join me.”

Jasper moved forward carefully, lifting his arms out of the way, then wrapping them around his head as he bumped a hanging mirror. “Feck. Is there a safe path?”

“Feel free to break them. It’s what I usually do.”

Jasper laughed. “Are you serious?”

“It’s the fastest way to get another mirror.” Two hands gripped the edges of the nearest floor-standing mirror and turned it aside, revealing his host. “And you must call me Micah.”

“Micah. Got it.” Jasper stepped past and found a small work area set up on one corner of the workbench. There were notes and papers and an ink pot, but Micah was holding the pen in his hand, tapping it against his palm, staring at the papers. His hair was mussed, the neck of his shirt open, no jacket, but his waistcoat was still buttoned. “What are you working on?”

“Tuning.” Micah frowned, took a breath, then shook his head and made a note. “No, it’s gone.”

“Sorry, did I interrupt your train of thought?”

“No, no. The light’s gone. I’ve been trying to focus on one particular location, and getting it at just the right time of day to be sure I’m seeing the right place.” He glanced up as though listening to what he’d just said. “I don’t think I can explain that any better, I’m afraid.”

“Scrying, no, I get it.”

Micah smiled, pleased. “Forgive me if I make assumptions, at times. I can’t quite understand how much you know, and how much you don’t. You won’t have experienced things, and the Earl seems to have taught you some things and left out others.”

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Jasper waved a hand. “I never know what’s going to make sense either. How many targets do you have here?”

“Targets?” Micah repeated, blinking in surprise.

“Yeah, your… locations.” Jasper waved a finger around at the mirrors. “Are these all looking at different places?”

Micah shook his head. “No, I was… how would that even work?” He shook his head again.

“So why do you have so many?”

“I was trying to focus on one particular area, and each of them is showing one fraction of the image.”

Jasper hopped up onto a brass stool and settled down with his chin in his hand. “But then you’re trying to balance power to all of them, and still control the focus. That’s...how do you not go mad?”

“That is what makes it difficult, yes,” Micah said slowly, still off balance.

“What happens if you just use one mirror, and...I dunno, try to tie it to the location? Use wood from the area for the frame, or something?”

“The frame isn’t a part of the glass. The tie isn’t binding enough.”

Jasper stared up at him with wide brown eyes. “Well, that’s the kind of shit advice you get when you ask someone who can’t do magic.” 

“I didn’t ask your advice,” Micah shot back, mirroring Jasper’s expression.

“Maybe you should, because you’re clearly crap at it yourself.”

Micah’s mouth opened, then he bit his lip and blinked slowly. “You are a cly and a scran. Who let you in here?”

“I forget his name. I called him ‘Happy.’”

Micah spluttered and finally laughed. “To his face?”

Jasper leaned back on his stool, grinning. “Yeah, but he started it by calling me a little girl.”

“That has to be a lie.”

Jasper shrugged. “He might try denying it, but it’s true.”

Micah leaned back against the workbench, folding his arms across his chest. “Does the Earl do much scrying?”

“Nah. He could just about manage to shout at me that I was bringing the wrong book. See down the hall, around the corner, two rooms over. Why, what are you trying? The end of next week?” he guessed with a cheeky grin.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I was trying for Pigu.”

Jasper leaned forward again, raising his eyebrows. “That’s oceans away.”

“Hence the large number of mirrors.”

“Huh.” Jasper nodded, staring around at them again. “So.” He raised his chin. “How do you want to test me?”

Micah took a deep breath and looked around them as if seeking the source of the mental shift Jasper had just made. “I think before I do any testing at all, I need to go over some safety precautions— as much for my sake, after yesterday,” he added. 

Jasper shrugged. “Yeah, sorry about that. But a lot of this stuff really is going to have no effect on me. I do a lot of materials prep for the Earl.”

“Numium, caribdinium, carum rods— you’ve worked with all of those before?”

“Well, yeah.”

“You have to promise me that you will please not eat anything again.”

Jasper glanced around uncertainly. “Um, I’ll get hungry.”

Micah sighed. “It’s a bit late to pretend to be that stupid. Don’t lick anything, don’t taste it, don’t drink it.”

“Hold on,” Jasper said, raising a hand. “If you say I can’t touch anything, we might as well quit now.”

Micah tried to hide a smile and beckoned Jasper with a tip of his head, leading him to stairs sunken into the wooden floor, a semicircle of stone steps ending in a heavy-looking door. “The main lab is through here.” He turned and frowned, as if suddenly noticing the excess of mirrors. He closed his eyes a moment, and all the mirrors on the desk lifted and stacked themselves on the top of one of the bookshelves. Jasper gulped, unable to keep from wondering what would happen if they fell. He ducked through the low doorway and paused at the top step. 

The place must’ve been enormous, but the clutter of huge equipment meant it was impossible to make out the shape of the room. It was warm and dim, the darkness slowly giving way as Micah lit the lamps in little bursts of magic. With a wave of his arm he threw open the shutters on windows set high up in one wall and bathed the room in long slants light. It seemed to be snowing outside. 

Jasper moved forward, taking everything in. It was strangely cosy, long low tables crisscrossing every space not taken up by walls of equipment and densely packed shelves. He wanted to pick his way through the maze, examine the dismantled devices surrounded by tiny tools laid out neatly on workbenches, the experiments that dripped and hummed and glowed. His eyes traced a huge pipe up to the copper boiler that burped and gurgled near the ceiling. The place was alive with smells and warm living sounds. He could even see some kind of greenhouse tucked around a distant corner, partially obscured by racks of safety equipment.

The Earl would’ve had palpitations at the possibilities.

Micah was watching him apprehensively. 

“Its...um.” He waved his hands at the sheer slopes of questions he couldn’t form. 

Micah smiled nervously, then turned and began unpacking things from various shelves and cupboards onto the nearest work surface, talking as he worked.

“This is one of the most comprehensive labs in the castle. It should rightfully be the Vedouci’s, but Sé Casper has his own offices and allows me the run of this one. It’s amazing.” Micah gestured at the enormous bookshelves just visible around a corner. “It contains the archived journals and notes of all the past Vedoucis and a good deal of unique equipment. It’s also the only lab that’s actually in its own separate location, reinforced with binding charms to make it the safest place in the world to test experimental magics.”

Jasper was feeling more bemused every moment. “I—er... I’m not familiar with a lot of this…”

Micah hesitated, then said, “These are gloves.” He pointed. “Also an apron—”

“Aww, no!”

Micah stifled a smile and lifted the bundle he’d pointed at. “Note the lack of pink, or frills, or ribbons.”

Jasper grinned, reaching out to feel the heavy leather. There were a lot of buckles and pockets and sections. It looked complicated. “I could butcher a flying whale in that.”

“Don’t,” Micah suggested. “There’s also a neck piece.”

“Why not just use armour?”

“Metal is no protection against heat, or many kinds of magic. But sometimes, yes, I do use armour.”

“Rrr-right,” Jasper said slowly. “How likely is it I’m going to need to know that for these tests?”

“I honestly have no idea,” Micah told him. “There are more protections in this lab than I could explain in an afternoon. It’s possible that none of them will have the slightest effect on you, but in that case, neither will any of the magic they’re meant to protect you from. There are spells embedded in the walls to reinforce them and keep the magic inside. Speaking of which, with your permission, I’ll extend a barrier across the door. It will keep anyone from coming in while we work, and possibly walking in on something dangerous. It will also, of course, mean neither of us can leave until I release it.”

Jasper blinked, desperately trying to process all this. “So I’ll be locked in with you, pretty much.”

“More or less. And I will be locked in with you. I apologise, but it is the only way to keep everyone safe.”

Jasper made a face and shrugged. “Yeah, go on. I’m okay.”

“I think just standing you in front of the balcony in the other room and letting any excess energy fall out to a desert should be enough.”

Jasper frowned, glancing up at the high windows in the lab. “You mean mountains?”

Micah tipped his head, narrowing his eyes with a faint smile. “The windows in the other room are all portals. Tunable.”

“Get out.”

“Why have just one view? And yes, one of the things I’d like to test someday is whether or not you can pass through one.”

“Bet I can’t.”

Micah shrugged. “We shan’t try today. And if you’re not able to, that will be very interesting, because you did pass through at least two portals to get here today.”

Jasper pushed his hands into his pockets. “What happens if...if I can’t go through? It won’t...will I just bounce off?” 

“As I said—not today. Not until I know far more about you.”

“Okay.” Jasper nodded. “So. Let’s see what I can recognise. You’ve got a burn-box for scraps and contamination, yeah?” He nodded at the iron bin that might still hold his old coat. 

“Precisely. And you’ve met the flash bucket.” Micah stared around them, taking a deep breath. “I think that’s pretty much everything.”

“Is there something...I dunno, I mean, say we get going on this, and you’re pushing hard. Is there anything to let me know how hard you’re pushing?”

Micah frowned, folding his arms. “If I were pushing, you’d know.”

Jasper shook his head, eyes wide. “Null, remember?”

Micah sighed. “You genuinely cannot understand how difficult it is for me to remember to believe this,” he admitted. “But, well…” He looked around, then nodded at a large metal ring set in the wall above the door. “That ring is solid tanium. It’s primarily for me, to regulate energy input. I haven’t had cause to pay much attention to it for years, now.”

“So what should I look for?”

“The brighter the colour is, and the more area covered by it, the more intense the magic.”

“Should I cut you off at some point? Stop you before you’re exhausted?”

“Well, if it pings off the wall, that would be a good point,” Micah said brightly.  

Jasper snorted, eyeing the ring. He was fairly certain his shoulders could pass through it without touching the sides. “More of a clang, I think.”

“I wouldn’t know. It’s never happened.”

Jasper spread his hands defensively. “I’m not making a joke, honestly. Only yesterday you were the one who went sideways, that’s all.”

“True.” Micah nodded, then looked up at him sharply. “Ah, yes. Speaking of that.” He rummaged along the workbench before coming up with a sprig of yellow flowers on a long stalk. The leaves were fleshy, barely wilted. “Look at this. See?” He held it upright, showing how much moisture was left in the stem. “And the leaves?” He pinched one, digging in with a nail, pointing at the drop of sap that welled out. “Now, hand me those tongs.” 

He pointed, and Jasper passed over the tongs that looked like they’d been snitched from a hearth somewhere well below stairs. Possibly in the kitchen, or maybe a forge. “Are you going to be able to... ah. Hah.” Jasper watched as he pulled on a pair of padded leather gauntlets that reduced his hands to two fingers and a thumb each. 

“I should be wearing eye protection as well, but so long as you never tell anyone...”

“Won’t say a word,” Jasper assured him. 

Micah picked up the tongs, and used them to pick up the flowers. “This is the same numium you touched yesterday,” he said, concentrating on keeping the flowers steady and pushing them gradually over the little pot. The edges of the blooms browned, then crinkled. Jasper could hear the crackling as the branch shrivelled as if it were held over a furnace.

“Um, okay,” Jasper said, setting his hands against the edge of the table. “That’s the same pot, you say.”

“It is.” Micah pulled the tongs back and dropped the dried stem onto the counter, set the tongs aside, and pulled off the gauntlets. “It didn’t have to touch anything, please note.”

“Yeah, I’m gettin’ that,” Jasper assured him. “And you let me just…”  

“I did not,” Micah interrupted, raising a finger. “I had no idea, and please, don’t say it. Never in my life have I been around someone as devoid of magical understanding, and I was caught off my guard.”

Jasper nodded slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, I suppose not. But I’ve never seen numium do that before. What’s different?”

“It’s been refined. You’ve probably only dealt with it in the raw state, as it comes out of the earth. It takes a fair bit of work to refine it to a pure state.” 

“So why doesn’t it affect me?”

“The very question I’m struggling with as well, and the answer, it seems, is that you’re null.”

“But that’s just me. I can’t do magic. But that powder doesn’t...it’s not like it has eyes and can see what’s coming at it.”

“That’s like saying the ocean doesn’t know what you dunk in it, and wondering why it gets wet.”

Jasper frowned. “Okay. Look, can I just…” He trailed off, reaching a tentative finger toward the bowl. 

Micah’s lips thinned and he glared at the encroaching hand, but Jasper’s eyes were on the pot. “I suppose that’s understandable,” Micah said, and brought his arms up as if preparing to ward off a punch.

Jasper moved his hand slowly toward the bowl, then hesitated and took a deep breath before edging the tip of a finger over it. Nothing happened. He licked his lips, and lowered his finger to the powder, finally touching it, then pushing his finger far enough in to leave a divot. He relaxed, and brought the finger to his face, a thin coating of yellowish-grey dust clinging to the tip. Micah started to reach out to stop him, but Jasper glanced at him in warning and he paused. Jasper brought his finger just below his nose and sniffed cautiously. “Yeah. Yep, stronger smell than I’m used to, but, well, there we go.” He held his finger up toward Micah, showing him the powder. “Just knowing what should happen isn’t enough to make it happen.”

Micah shook his head slowly, his arms still raised. “Seeing you do that… that’s just offensive. An offence against nature. Disturbing.”

Jasper shot him a lopsided grin, then gestured toward the sink. “I assume you want me to flash this?” 

“Please.”

Jasper ducked his finger into the milky liquid again, then looked back, finding Micah standing beside him in the same wary, defensive pose. “It’s clean now. Look.” He held it up. “You’re safe from the scary man and his magic finger.”

Micah snorted, shaking his head, but finally relaxing. “It is serious, you know.   Even if it has no effect on you, if you should forget to clean it off and touch something that I then touch…”

Jasper shuddered. “No, believe me, that twig wilting is an image that’ll fuel my nightmares for years to come. I’m never going to feel the same way about numium ever again. I can’t believe the Earl lets me wander around the way he does.”

Micah shook his head and shrugged. “Access to this grade of numium is fairly limited. Even I can pick up a lump of the raw ore with only a vague buzz. This pot is actually years of work.”

“Why do you have it right out there like that?” Jasper asked.

“As I said, no one is going to touch it. Every day, I try to add a little more to it. It’s become part of my daily routine in the lab, something I work on while thinking about something else.”

“Like the diagrams?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“You don’t relax much, do you?” Jasper said, shaking his head slowly.

Micah blinked, and thought for a moment. “I wouldn’t say that. More that I prefer to have something to show for my time.”

“Sorry. Yeah, sorry,” Jasper said, suddenly self-conscious. “That was a little… none of my business, really.”

“No, it’s fine,” Micah said, clearly puzzled.

“Right. So.” Jasper rubbed his hands together, casting around for a change of subject. “Next test. Let’s try something. You must have a list in mind for me, right?”

“I… yes, of course.” Micah turned his attention back to the work table, and moved some papers aside. “Yes, here.” He pulled several pages out of a pile and ran his finger down a list—neatly spaced out with room for notes, Jasper saw. Micah glanced up at him. “Perhaps something a little less risky. Would you mind just standing there for a minute?”

Jasper shrugged easily, swinging his arms, then pushing them into his pockets. “Off you go.”

Micah studied him for a moment, then tilted his head and his expression changed as though he were speaking but without moving his mouth. Then he sighed, lowered his head, and stared at Jasper very intently.

Jasper kept his eyes on him, but it seemed a little strange. Clearly magic was going on, but he didn’t feel anything, other than uncomfortable for maintaining eye contact in silence for so long. He tried to guess at what should be happening, but really had no ideas. A movement behind Micah drew his eye, and he glanced up at the tanium ring, which was blossoming from grey to blue to violet, the colour creeping from the bottom of the ring halfway up the sides, until finally Micah sighed and relaxed again. “Obviously you felt none of that.”

Jasper blinked and looked back at him. “I guess not.”

“Not even a tickle.”

“Nope. Were you trying really hard?”

Micah laughed in disbelief. “Relatively, yes. If I’d gone all-out, we might have had complaints from people elsewhere in the castle. Still, it was a solid amount of power.” He made a note on his list.

“Tired?”

Micah shook his head. “No, but very curious. May I see your hands?”

Jasper held them out. The man studied them for a moment without touching before reaching up, pausing, looking at Jasper and saying, “May I?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Jasper pushed his hand into Micah’s grasp. For someone so self assured, he seemed to need a lot of encouraging.

“Oh. Thank you.” He stroked his palms, then turned them over and looked at the backs. “I’m going to try again, but touching usually makes things easier, and more powerful. Please let me know if you’re uncomfortable in any way.”

“Carry on,” Jasper told him. Again, Micah stared at him, his expression becoming more fierce. He looked down at Jasper’s hands, then dropped his left and concentrated on the right. After another moment, he let out a breath and shook his head.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t quite believe it. You really do feel nothing.”

“Nope. Just out of curiosity, what kind of things am I missing out on?”

“In general?”

“No, now, specifically. What were you trying to do?”

“I started out trying to feel your mind. I can’t read it, but I should be able to get a sense of it. But it’s like you’re just...not there. You’re not insane, you’re not deficient, you’re not protected or blocked. You’re not a homunculus or a spell in human form.  You’re not even an absence. You’re definitely human. You’re alive, but you’re just...not there. ”

“Null,” Jasper said. “Yeah.”

“You say it so easily,” Micah sighed, scratching his head. “Until that cart in the market, I never would have believed nulls actually existed. You’re a fairy tale. At best, a theory used to understand things. But nulls don’t actually...happen.”

“I’ve never studied it, right? But I have had a lot of people try to teach me magic over the years, and it just...nothing. I get by with people assuming they did their spells wrong around me, or forgot something, or they got some defective materials. The Earl was the first who seemed to clock that something else might explain it, and he taught me what null was, and that I probably shouldn’t go waving this around.”

“And he was very right,” Micah put in.

“I guess.” Jasper hesitated, studying Micah. “So why am I safe telling you?”

Micah frowned. “I’ve not even told the Vedouci yet. I won’t, if you don’t want me to. I don’t want to treat you like a bit of scratch paper or scrap material that I can test things on. But just now, I was trying to sense any sign of the numium on you or in you, to see if there was any hint of damage. Anything at all. All I can tell you is that your skin looks and feels fine.”

“What, you can tell what I ate?” Jasper spread his hands across his belly protectively.

“I can’t,” Micah said, smiling a little. “And I should be able to find that numium, feel it inside you. But you… just… aren’t there. You are, but you aren’t.” He shook his head. “Has anyone ever managed to sense you?”

“I dunno,” Jasper shrugged, wide-eyed. “How would I be able to tell?”

“None of your teachers, not the Earl…?” More head shaking. “Is the Earl the most powerful person you’ve known?”

“Well, besides you, yeah.”

“And your parents, what were they like?”

“Lovely. You mean were they null? No. They have a little farm, both of them right out there every day, working the field and tending the goats. Dad does a bit of metalworking, imbuing and that. Mum’s helped out the local healer for, oh, ages.”

“She’s a healer? Has she ever worked on you?”

“Well, I’ve never really been sick,” Jasper admitted. “Just runny noses and that.”

“No fevers?”

“Nothing I can remember. Oh, but I broke my arm once,” he added suddenly. “Yeah, I think I had a bit of a fever then. And Mum was upset because she couldn’t mend it. Took ages to heal.”

“Weeks?” Micah guessed, his brow furrowed.

“Months. I couldn’t help with the planting much, and was just starting to use it normally again around harvest.”

Micah sucked in his breath, wincing. “I can’t even imagine that. Which arm?”

“Left,” he said, swinging it out and looking down at it. “If it isn’t good as new, now, I can’t tell you what’s missing.”

Micah ran his fingers lightly from Jasper’s shoulder to his wrist, then frowned and shook his head again. “Do you mind if I press harder? I can’t get any sense of where it was broken, even, and I really should be able to.”

“Go ahead. It never hurts anymore. I mean, not from the break.” He let Micah prod it, pushing his fingers in, moving flesh aside and working his way along the bone. Jasper found himself wishing he’d worn a better shirt, noticing every wrinkle and pulled thread in the sleeve Micah was touching. 

Micah paused halfway between elbow and wrist, and tipped his head, rubbing in circles. “Here?” he asked, his eyes flicking back to Jasper’s.

“Yeah, actually, right in there.”

“Both bones?”

“I...dunno. Yeah, I guess.” He nodded.

“You’re not sure?”

“Nah, just forgot there were two bones in there, that’s all. It must have been both though, because...well, yeah.”

“Because…?” Micah prompted.

Jasper made a face. “Most people don’t want to hear the details.”

“How bad was it? I won’t faint. I’ve studied a bit of anatomy.”

“Yeah? Well, my arm… bent where it shouldn’t bend, you know?”

Micah flinched. “Ah. Yes. That must have been tremendously painful.”

“It definitely hurt,” Jasper said, half-laughing. “I can tell you one important thing I learned—never get between two billy goats during rutting season.”

Micah turned away at that. “I don’t think I want to know any more.”

“Nothing else to tell, really. Anyway, ’s fine now.”

Micah made an effort to shake the images off, and wrote something else on the paper. “What do we have next? Ahmm…” He turned the page over. “I’ve already ruled out a lot of these tests,” he noted. “You feel nothing when I push you. I never really believed that I wouldn’t be able to read you at all.” 

“I’m a very complex person,” Jasper said solemnly. 

Micah looked up, saw his serious face, and laughed. “Actually, sort of, yes. You are so simple that it’s fascinating. You are simply...nothing.”

“Y’know, you’re gonna have to work on your phrasing. I might start taking offence.”

A shadow of alarm flickered across Micah’s face, but this time, he didn’t laugh. “I apologise. I don’t mean anything of the sort. This… you… I don’t even know the words, really. There may actually be none. Forgive me if I am a bit ineloquent.”

“I can see I’ve got you pretty rattled, yeah,” Jasper admitted.

“I do beg your pardon.”

“I, um, yeah. It’s okay. Forgiven.” Jasper shifted his weight awkwardly.

Micah looked back at his list. “Next, I’d like to see how you interact with magic. How it works near you, if it doesn’t work on you.”

“Okay… what do you have in mind?”

Micah took a deep breath, scanning the table. “Ah, here. This tray.” Jasper helped him clear off the supplies from it, and Micah set it on the floor. “Stand on it, please.”

Jasper wrinkled his nose, but complied. 

“Now, watch your balance—I’m going to try to lift it with you on it.”

Jasper’s eyebrows went up. “Whoof. How strong are you?”

“With magic,” Micah told him pointedly.

“Yeah, still sounds unlikely. Sorry, it’s just…” Jasper froze, then grabbed at the edge of the table as the tray lifted.

“I...strange. I can sense your weight,” Micah said, concentrating on the tray, which was now about a foot off the floor. “It takes effort, but I can’t do anything directly to you. It’s as if this is just...a very heavy tray.” He moved his head to one side, as if shaking it, but then stopped, still concentrating. The tray sank smoothly back to the floor, and Jasper looked down, releasing his grip. 

“That was...extremely weird.”

Micah’s face twisted into a strange, pleased smile. “New experience?”

“You could say that, yeah. The people I’ve known with that kind of power…” He shook his head, stepping carefully off the tray. “They tend not to take any notice of me,” he finished awkwardly.

“I believe I might disprove that idea, mightn’t I?”

Jasper snorted, welcoming the change of mood. “Nah. You clearly escaped from a circus.”

Micah smiled and looked down briefly. “If you’re of a mind to find out the worst, would you be willing to try some fire tests?”

“I don’t know what that means, but I’m pretty much up for anything.”

Micah nodded, and beckoned him further into the lab. “I’ve set up as many kinds of flames as I can reasonably gather,” he said, pointing at a table covered with lamps, candles, rocks, jars, and twigs.

Jasper looked it over warily. “What, is it invisible?” he asked.

Micah snorted and waved his hand. Everything on the table burst into life, the flames every colour from white to red to blue to black. Jasper gulped and stepped back quickly, already feeling the heat. Micah snapped his fingers and they went dark again. “As far as I understand, fire should have no effect on you.”

Jasper shook his head. “No, I’m pretty sure it’d burn me.”

Micah frowned. “You can feel the heat, but it shouldn’t actually affect you.”

“Look, I don’t want to have to burn myself to prove this, okay?”

“Of course not,” Micah said quickly. “But then you wouldn’t be null,” he said slowly, frowning.

“Or maybe fire isn’t magic,” Jasper suggested sarcastically.

Micah blinked, and froze, thinking. “Do you know, that’s a very interesting point. Can we go through and see which you can feel? Just to make sure it’s consistent?”

Jasper shook his head slowly. “Well, so long as you’re okay with me not burning myself.”

“Here.” Micah picked up the candle and waved absently at it, lighting it. “Beeswax with a flax wick. This would burn me if I held my hand in it, but…” He passed his hand over it again, right through the flame. “If you move quickly, you can feel the heat without being burned. Do you understand?”

“Yeah. Shall I—?” He nodded at the candle.

“Please.” Micah held it out.

Jasper stared at it for a moment, and brought his hand nearer, but flinched back before he touched the flame. “No, it’s hot.”

Micah nodded slowly. “If you want to try passing your hand through, do it more quickly. If you move slowly, the heat has time to catch hold.”

Jasper made a face, but tried again, this time whipping his hand through the flame so quickly that it flickered and nearly went out. “Ha!” He stared at his hand, rubbing it with his fingers. “I could still feel the heat, though.”

“Interesting. Well, let’s try this one.” He set the candle down, dousing it with a quick pat from his palm before picking up a bulbous lump of something hard and lighting it with another gesture. “Just as you did last time— first, tell me if you can feel the heat.”

Jasper tucked his hands behind his back. “Nuh-uh. You first.”

Micah peered at him. “Why?”

“I’ve never seen a black flame before. I’ve no idea what that is.”

“Osmirrium,” Micah told him. “It isn’t easy to get it to burn. It is as unlike a candle flame as I can think of.”

“So you try touching it,” Jasper shot back.

“Oh, it would burn me,” Micah assured him readily. “I am spending a lot of energy on shielding myself from it.” Jasper glanced at the tanium ring, which was all magenta now, with patches of brighter red. “You don’t have to touch it— I think you won’t be able to get anywhere near it.” Jasper made a face, and brought one hand up cautiously. Very slowly, he moved it closer to the fire. When his hand was still a foot away, Micah said, “You don’t have to injure yourself for my sake.”

“What do you mean?” Jasper asked, looking up at him, holding his hand where it was.

“You can’t even feel it?”

Jasper shook his head. “Not yet. Should I?”

“I would have thought so,” Micah admitted. “Are you sure?”

Jasper pressed his lips together and moved his hand closer. “No. Nothing. No temperature change at all.” He swallowed, then swiped his hand quickly through the flame. “Nothing.”

“Really? Nothing at all?”

“No matter how many times you ask, the answer isn’t changing,” Jasper told him, then lowered his hand above the flame. “Hang on, let me…” He brought his hand down, then finally curled his fingers around the slick ore and lifted it out of Micah’s hand, the flame guttering against his palm. “Well, there you go. Can’t be any clearer than that.” Micah dropped his arms, and Jasper saw he was shaking a bit, and grinned briefly before worry kicked in. “Hey, you okay?” He turned to set the lump on the table again.

“No! Don’t!” Micah almost shouted.

“Um…?” Jasper looked back, eyes wide in shock.

“It’s too hot, it will ignite some of the others. Sink.” Micah pinched at the air, and the flame flickered out.

Jasper turned and took the ore to the sink. “You want me to soak it?” he asked.

“Just set it inside. That will be safe.”

Jasper did as he was told, and turned back. “Now, are you okay? You want to stop?”

Micah shook his head. “No. But… that was… you… fascinating. Magnificent.”

“You what?”

“I was having to shield myself in order to hold that. In fact, I was shielding the entire room.”

“Okay, so am I null or not?”

“Right now, I don’t know what you are. Let’s try some more. Do you mind if I take notes?”

“I’ve been wondering why you haven’t been,” Jasper said. 

“Right.” He hurried back to the first work table and snatched up parchment and pencil. “Let me think… two, no, three of these you shouldn’t even touch. Wait.” Micah sighed, and ran his hand across his forehead. “No. As it’s you, I have no idea.” 

“Tell you what— you light ’em and take notes, and I’ll tell you which ones are hot, and we’ll go from there.”

An hour later, Micah had a chart, and was kneeling on the floor, pushing his hair back from his eyes and scratching his nose absently with the wrong end of the pencil, leaving a black smudge. Jasper wandered over to crouch down and study it over his shoulder.

Micah glanced back at him. “Before you ask me, I don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?” Jasper asked.

“At this point...I don’t know anything. I don’t know if you’re null, or if magic is broken, or what this means.”

“What’s wrong?”

Micah pointed with the pencil. “There’s no pattern to it. Some flames could burn you, some can’t. Either you’re not null, or we need to seriously reconsider what we think of as magic.”

Jasper made a face, his hands braced on his knees, his shoulders hunched. “How likely is it that I would be immune to every form of magic except fire?”

“Slightly more likely than the chances of you being null.” Micah was tapping the pencil against his lips now, his eyes roaming the chart.

“Is there anything we can try that’d you’d consider conclusive?” Jasper asked.

“Hmm. I don’t know. I could try just blasting you with random spells.”

“That sounds like fun.” Micah glanced at him, then looked back. “What?” Jasper asked.

“You’re serious.”

“Well, yeah. Why, weren’t you?”

“Of course not! You could be hurt very badly!”

“No, see, I’ve played this game before.  A couple of times.”

“This isn’t a game, Jasper. You could be killed.”

“In a pub, once, I was very tired and a little drunk, and bet somebody he couldn’t knock me down with his biggest spell.”

“You didn’t.”

Jasper nodded, only a little shamefaced. “’Fraid so. And he couldn’t. Neither could any of his friends.”

“What did they try?”

“Well, one of them set the bar on fire.”

Micah sat back, one hand covering his mouth. “Kazak’s mouldering foot. Were you hurt?”

Jasper shook his head. “Nope. We got the fire out, too. Well, someone did. I had to leg it. But the point is that they threw anything they could at me, spell-wise.”

“You complete eege. How did you explain it?”

“I told them I had a protection on me. Very great magician. Because Mum helped save his village from something or other, I forget.”

“Why would you do something so...brazen?”

“Distracting them. Look, the point is, they tried everything they knew, and none of it landed.”

“Are you sure they weren’t just too drunk to manage any spells?”

“They did manage to set the bar on fire,” Jasper pointed out.

Micah shifted to a more comfortable sitting position, one leg curled under him, the other  up, one arm slung over it. “Hah. But some of these flames could have burned you.”

“Maybe not all fire is magic,” Jasper suggested. “I mean, not all plants are.”

Micah considered this for a moment. “I suppose. I do have some plants, none of them should be able to… well. I can’t imagine they’d kill you.”

“Why, is there someone they could kill?”

“Certainly make them unhappy for a few days.”

“Oh, well, true. Some of them make people itch if you touch them, stuff like that?”

“Interesting—I would have said that was a magical effect.”

“I’d prefer not to demonstrate that one, if you don’t mind,” Jasper said quickly.

Micah laughed. “No, I’ve none of that in the lab at the moment. But we could… would you mind…”

“So long as you tell me first what they’re supposed to do,” Jasper told him, and reached his hand out. “Come on, get up, bring your notes.” 

Micah accepted the help, and waved Jasper ahead of him toward a glass terrarium. Pipes ran into it from every direction, the labels on them faded into unreadability. Exotic-looking plants sprawled up the sides. Some had even been carefully fenced off. 

Micah unlocked the front panel with a tiny golden key. “Some of them will react to a light touch, and they’re intended to trap insects. I’ve triggered them with my own finger, and never had any ill effects.”

Jasper moved closer to the glass, reaching for the door, which was shut today. “May I?”

Micah waved him ahead. “The flat orange ones at the front are the terrentraps. Just tap the centre of the leaf.”

Jasper did so. The leaf promptly folded in half, tiny white barbs around the edges overlapping like teeth. “I’ve never seen one in person before. How sharp are the barbs?”

“It reacted to you,” Micah said, ignoring the question and shaking his head as he made a note. “That makes no sense.”

“You want me to try holding my finger inside, once?”

Micah glanced at him and thought for a moment, again tapping his pencil against his lips. “Ah, yes. Yes, if you don’t mind. And no, the barbs aren’t sharp enough to break your skin.”

“Um, okay.” Jasper waited a moment, staring at the orange half-circle. “How long does it take to reopen?”

“There should be another one behind it. Isn’t there?”

Jasper bent the leaf over delicately, and something flicked out at his finger. “Hey! Ow! What the feck was that?”

“What?” Micah leaned closer.

“Something just bit me!”

“Where? Which side of your finger?”

Jasper held it up and pointed. “Just along here.”

Micah’s eyes flicked back to the terrarium. “That would have to be the isellthorn? It’s very sensitive to strangers... That makes no kind of sense at all. I’m sorry, I never would have thought to warn you. But nothing on the other side?”

“You mean you expected something to bite me, but had me poke around in there anyway?”

“Not exactly. I thought the one would react, but it doesn’t sting unless you try to pull it up.”

“The isellthorn?”

“No, the grispius.”

“Right. That’s...which one?”

Micah pointed carefully. “The little brown one. It looks like a tangle of twine, I know.”

Jasper studied it. “I can’t even see any ends of the branches.”

“They dig back into the soil and burrow for something large enough to latch onto. And if you bend the branches too far, look.” Micah prodded it, and the plant shrivelled away, flattening against the ground. “Trying to make itself harder to grab.”

“Nice.” Jasper tipped his head, then added, “But hang on, yeah, I think I did touch it.”

“Did you? It takes a minute or two to fluff back up, and it certainly wasn’t flat just now.”

“So maybe that one uses magic, and these other two don’t?”

“But I use all of them as materials,” Micah pointed out. “What happens when you touch the purple rock, there, lightly?” He pointed.

Jasper pulled back instinctively. “Is it actually slimy, or does it just look that way?”

“It is smooth, not wet. And slightly soft, so don’t press very hard.”

Jasper pressed his lips together, but reached in and touched it very softly, his finger gliding across the surface. “Oh, yeah. Weird. It looks wet. Did you polish it?”

“No, it just...ah, there it goes.” There was a faint rosy glow on the spot Jasper had touched. “It will heat up in response to any pressure. If you just barely stroke it, it gives off just a little bit of heat. But if you move it or poke it, it can get hot enough to burn you, and faster than you could drop it.”

Jasper reached in with his finger and held it over the pink spot without touching the stone. “I don’t feel anything.”

“Really? How close can you get? Move slowly,” Micah added quickly.

Jasper lowered his finger, and eventually rested it on the stone again. “I don’t feel anything. It’s just a smooth surface. No warmer than I’d expect from a stone.”

Micah leaned closer. “It’s getting brighter, you do realise?”

Jasper nodded without looking away. “Yeah, I can see it, but I can’t feel it.”

Micah grabbed his arm and pulled it down suddenly. “No, you can’t. I can’t watch that.”

Jasper looked at his finger, then showed it to Micah. “But look! See? Nothing.”

Micah stared at his finger, then took Jasper’s wrist and tipped it first one way, then another. “I really do not understand,” he murmured.

Jasper looked in the terrarium again. “Wow. That’s pretty bright.”

Micah nodded, barely sparing the pinkish-white light a glance. “I used tongs and protective gear and a great deal of spell work to place it. It’s there to provide warmth.”

“Is it going to kill anything with heat now, then?”

Micah shook his head, still studying Jasper’s finger. “No, I’m removing the heat.”

“You can move heat?”

“I’m putting it in the boiler.”

Jasper laughed. “Convenient.”

Micah sighed, and let go of his arm. “You are not funny. You are strange and impossible and I don’t know what you are.”

Jasper’s smile melted, and he stared at Micah for a moment. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t know. I just don’t understand,” Micah sighed, scrubbing his fingers against the back of his head and staring at Jasper. “Some things work, some things don’t.”

“Nothing works on me,” Jasper said, trying to be reasonable. “Just...some things work near me.” He made a face.

Micah nodded, raising his eyebrows tiredly, but understanding. “I can’t affect you, but magic works around you. You don’t block it. But then how could those flames burn you? Why do some of the plants react, but not others? Why does the stone react, but you can’t feel it? If they’re magic, shouldn’t you…?” He sighed again, shaking his head. 

“So maybe they’re not,” Jasper said, shrugging. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and looking up at Micah. “You can’t change me, but maybe they just affect… or I can feel it, but it isn’t actually… Isn’t there, I dunno, some kind of surface magic you can try? So maybe it doesn’t change my bones, but maybe it affects my skin?”

Micah tipped his head, looking away as he considered it. “Like painting the surface of wood, and it doesn’t go all the way in,” he said. “Yes, I suppose I can try that.” He turned to his shelf and scanned the strange collection of supplies, his lips working.

“What d’you need? I can help you look.”

Micah glanced at him. “It’s a powder from farrow bulbs. I think it’s in a green jar about so big.” He held his hands apart as though holding an invisible melon. 

Jasper noted the size and started looking, but grinned as Micah’s hands stayed in the pose as if it were an action he’d forgotten to stop. “Is this stuff in any order at all?” he asked after a moment, going to shift a book aside and look behind it.

“I move it around so often that it never stays in order,” Micah admitted. 

“If everything were in the right place, though, you wouldn’t have to move it around. You could just...put things back.” He gestured at the lab vaguely.

“I switch projects and concentrations quite often,” Micah said, clearly doubtful.

Jasper glanced at him. “Look, if I’m going to be in here for any length of time, would you let me have a tidy? It just...makes me itch, seeing something so simple to fix and not doing anything about it. Really. It’d be more of a favour to me.”

Micah gave him a puzzled grin. “You are a very strange man, with very strange hobbies.”

“I don’t think you can really talk,” Jasper said, nearly cutting him off, but also smiling now. “You sleep in a lab.”

Micah turned back to the shelves. After a moment, he said, “Not always.”

“Often enough,” Jasper said in a sing-song voice, pointing in the general direction of the mattress he’d spied in the other room. 

“Ah, here.” Micah dove into the mess with one hand and came up with the jar. “Right, this is fairly simple. Could you stand in front of the fire, please?” he added, nodding toward the furnace.

“Yep,” Jasper said agreeably, taking his place. “Ready.”

Micah moved in front of him but several steps away, holding the jar and its lid in one hand. Jasper couldn’t help staring a bit at fingers long and dextrous enough to manage both, while reaching inside with the other. “I apologise in advance for the smell.”

“You’re not reassuring,” Jasper said, shaking his head a little.

Micah glanced at him. “Hold still…” He scooped up some of the powder, shook the excess off over the jar, then thew it at Jasper, his hand snapping out flat, fingers spread. 

Jasper blinked in reflex, turning his face, wondering what would happen if the powder got into his eyes. Then, for a moment, he though maybe it had. He held out his arms, staring in disbelief. “You...what did you do?” he demanded.

Micah’s head snapped back in surprise, and he burst out laughing. He turned away hurriedly, shoving the cork back into the neck of the jar and setting it on the table, trying to stifle his reaction. He glanced guiltily at Jasper, and spluttered into another laugh.

“You utter bastard,” Jasper said evenly, turning his arms to confirm it. His clothes were now pink, with bright teal splotches across them. “You festering mutcher. If any of your stupid twirls had to work, why this one?” His trousers were pink. His boots were pink. Bright, vivid pink. He was practically glowing. 

“Oh, my. I am so sorry,” Micah gasped, holding his stomach with one hand, the other trying to stifle his giggles. “I didn’t think it would work.” He turned away again, unable to face Jasper while still laughing at him.

“I’ll just bet you didn’t. But it’s just my clothes, right?” He turned his hands over, seeing his skin the same normal colour. “Or wait…” He tucked a finger in the top of his shirt and peered down at his chest. The same pale skin underneath, free from blue-green blotches. “Nope, I’m fine. Just my clothes. Huh.”

“No, I’m sorry, but no,” Micah said reluctantly, holding out a mirror. “I’m really very sorry.”

Jasper took it, half-smiling now himself in the face of Micah’s relentless giggles. He glanced down, and froze. “Oh, fuck, no.”

None of his skin was affected, but the colour had latched onto the ends of his hair. He pulled on his forelock, going cross-eyed in an attempt to see it. Just the ends. He looked back in the mirror, running his fingers through his hair, holding it up on end. The longer hair had longer stains on the end, but even the short hair at the back was coloured. He was pink for one third of the length of each hair.

****