Chapter 5 continues...

A few corners and one almost sob-inducingly steep uphill later, Raz was on her hands and knees, panting from exhaustion.

Joram dabbed a handkerchief to his sweaty forehead. “Welcome to the Joneel estate of Spellright Street. I warn you in advance, I have not yet had time for a thorough cleaning of all rooms, nevermind to carry out any necessary repairs. Some belongings are also still waiting to be unpacked.”

“Water…”

Vision swimming, Raz crawled up the porch steps and into her new home. The floor was polished pale gray stone, with more colorful nuggets embedded to form wavy sea-like patterns. More colors formed mosaic stories of people. 

Steps from the door led down into a two round storey living room that managed to feel cramped despite its size. Most of the open space was currently occupied by wooden crates, travel cases, and chests in various stages of unpacking.

Raz pulled herself up despite her legs being jelly. An intense scent of raw wood and hay started tickling her nose, but the sneeze wouldn’t come.

Joram dragged Maroque inside and set him upright. “And welcome to your temporary abode, Master Maroque. Apologies for not being able to rescue more of your possessions, but I had to make a tactical retreat from your sister’s golems.”

“Water?” Raz hacked, eyes watering. She pressed on and found herself in a maze of unnaturally clean floors and infinite boxes. What she thought was a door turned out to be the lid of a crate. What she thought was a hallway was an alley between a ridiculously posh bookshelf and a crate pile. “Kitchen?”

“Of course, would you prefer crystal water, spiced water, spiced crystal water, mountain spring, primordial forest trickle, glacial melt, mirage oasis, true nectar, or meadow dew? I did manage to save master’s Quenching Ewer, a wonderment gifted to him by the Saloa Lao of Lalala, a thoughtful if intrusively flirty woman. If you would wait a moment, I believe it should be in the kitchen.”

Raz made a desperate sound. She followed the sound of ruckus to find a kitchen stuffed with boxes, with old simple furniture pushed to the side. A tall panoramic sea-view greeted her, but she ignored it, beelining for what looked like a tap.

And thank gods it was a tap!

Sweet sweet cold relief met her tongue. She filled her stomach, then splashed her face and hair, before collapsing on top of a crate.

“Ahhh… best water ever!”

Joram placed a three legged clay pitcher on the sinktable beside Raz and fixed her with a look of polite disappointment. “Poor, poor child. You cannot fathom the depths of refreshment you just missed. If only you had waited a second.”

“I think I might’ve died by then. I’ll taste it later, promise.”

“Later…” Joram shook his head, poured himself a ceramic cup, which he had found somewhere, and breathed in a supremely satisfied breath. 

Raz started poking around the boxes and exploring a bit. “You have other magic things than the pitcher? What kinds?”

“Mainly the basic necessities, utility appliances, small luxuries, a few true wonderments I managed to save from master Maroque’s vault, before M. Magogram seized it.”

“Uh-uh.” Raz popped open a lid on a small box. Packed within crispy brown ruffles was a set of expensive looking tubes of gold-red metal mix blended into gorgeous images of dancers. They seemed to move as she rotated the tube, playing out a dance of red veils. 

“What’s this do?”

“Ah yes, what you hold is an unusual multicultural piece inspired by the veils of M. Magogram and Lysian highlands. A creation of the artsmith Dandarrovan. I do believe he called it a dancer amongst the breezes. An entirely mundane item, but it does produce very pleasant jingles when dangled outside.” 

“A windchime. Ooh.”

Joram clicked his fingers. “Yes! Excellent. This is why we need Earthlings. Windchime. Windchime… how quaint. Would you like to go set it up on the balcony?”

Raz shrugged. “Sure.”

The view was as breathtaking as before and the birds, waves, and wind joined the chime’s jingling song. A nice breeze tousled Raz’s hair. The sun warmed her skin. Raz leaned on the railing beside Joram, her thoughts blank.

She noticed some kinda bird’s nest on the cliff straight below them. Then, laughter pulled her attention to a balcony some distance from theirs.

Five teens about her age were hanging out. Two siblings with dark hair, boy and girl, were wrestling next to a board game. Their friends ignored them while moving pieces on the board. They wore spiffy old-timey wizardy clothes like most Castleyarders and had yellow-orange-purple eyes and gray-pale to gray-brown skin tones. They would’ve probably felt exotic if Raz hadn’t spent so much time around fully altered people. 

A girl with hay-gold hair noticed her watching.

Raz smiled and waved.

The girl said something and the others looked now, pausing their fight. The dark haired boy cupped his hands and shouted something, but the wind ate his words.

Raz took a deep breath and replied in the one sentence she knew for sure, “Hello I’m Raz! Nice to meet you!”

More waves were exchanged, but no words could defeat the sea breeze on a cliffside.

“Don’t kids here go to school?” Raz asked Joram, while trying to figure out how to spell her name in hand-signals.

“Today is Freeday. We will meet your rector first thing Firstday morning and see about your enrollment. Even i– when master Maroque returns to us, it will take some time to recover his residence in Magogram proper.”

“Magic school?” A giddy chill bubbled through Raz, but she held in the initial squee.

“A foundation school. Castleyard isn’t exactly known for its diverse education programs. But, they do have a decent wonderchamber. And, from what I hear, general resonance curricula for the awakened, though I would not put much stock in them.”

So, it was basically a magic school.

“Magic school,” she said, shivering.

Raz didn’t know what to do so she chewed on her first. Then noticed the other kids still looking at her and waved with twice the vigor while jumping and shouting, “Magic school friends! Ohooy!”

One of the boys started mimicking her crazy jubilation.

Joram shook his head, smiling. “Why, if you’re this excited over a foundation school, you may fly off into the skies if you awaken. A ward of Master Maroque will attend nothing less than the most prestigious academies of Magogram proper.”

Raz didn’t really care. “As long as Faram and Allie get to come to the same school.”

“Mm.” Joram nodded, smiling thoughtfully.

She started switching into a wiggly dance to see if the boy still mimicked her. He did.

Joram spoke after a pause, “Perhaps we should go over and make some new friends of the neighbors, while I prepare the rooms for the night and arrange the lunch and dinner?”

Raz stopped wiggling to think. It was tempting. The kids looked like a fun bunch, and probably wouldn’t mind if she was from Earth or couldn’t speak Nounsica that well yet. But she looked back into the box-choked house and thought of Joram spending hours alone at work, while she had fun.

“Nah. I can help out with the furniture and cleaning.”

“It is no trouble. I handle matters such as this for master Maroque all the time.”

“You’re gonna do magical cleaning, right? Like with magic roombas or with your resonance thing?”

“Oh, nothing quite so exciting. But we do have a hootphant statue, a few mischief inclined dust pixies, and some other basic tools.”

“Then it’s settled.” Raz pulled his sleeve. “Let’s go. Show me this hootphant.”