It was a relatively easy spell that Mancer had shown her; just some simple light magic. But her task was to alter the magic circle to suit her own style of casting, which wasn't typical for a mage of any caliber. 

Angelina dipped her brush in the ink once more, pulling it carefully and steadily across the paper. She had nearly finished her circle when her hand slipped, inking a great big slash across the paper. 

“Damnit!” she grumbled, “I'll just try it anyway!” 

She placed her fingers on the edge of the circle and poured her mana into it. The lines pulsed softly, then turned very dark. Almost incomprehensibly so. 

Angelina stared in surprise as her desk and all of its contents disappeared into the magic circle, which fluttered to the ground as if it had never activated. She stood abruptly, sending her chair crashing to the floor. She took a step back, forgetting the chair was behind her, and stumbled over it, falling to the ground with a loud crash. 

Charlotte rushed through the door, setting down the dinner tray she'd brought from the kitchen. 

“Oh, goodness, my lady!” she fussed, “are you alright?!” 

“I'll be fine, Charlotte,” Angelina replied. She tried to stand, wincing as a sharp pain shot up her leg. Her maid caught her before she could fall again, but her foot dragged on the floor, and she cried out once again. 

Charlotte righted the chair and set her down carefully in it. “Don't move, my lady,” she commanded, “I'll go get help!” She rushed out of the room, dashing away to fetch the doctor. 

Despite her maid's strict orders, the ever curious Angelina stood up from her chair and picked up the magic circle. As she did, her fingers smudged the ink on the edge of the circle, breaking the connection between the hemispheres. 

With no warning to speak of, the desk and all its contents tumbled to the ground, crashing against the floor and falling right on top of Angelina's leg. She heard the bone snap. Blood flowed from the wound as the jagged edge of her tibia tore through the skin, mutilating her leg. 

She screamed, and her shrill, emaciated cry echoed clamorously throughout the house. 

Charlotte burst through the door once more, her jaw dropping in horror as she beheld her master's beloved daughter, half crushed under the heavy desk. She froze in the doorway, her adrenaline spiking. The doctor shoved her aside, kneeling down next to Angelina. 

He inspected her closely before lifting the desk, struggling to keep it up. “Help, please!” he called, and the shouted words put Charlotte into action. She moved the desk aside, the doctor's meager strength doing little to aid her. 

“How is she, Cyril?” Charlotte asked. 

“It's… not good,” the doctor confessed, “she may never fully recover.” 

“Oh! What… what will we tell… Master Baltimore?” The maid was very frightened. She knew the Baron's temper, especially when it came to his daughter. 

“I'll… draft a letter later,” Cyril replied, “right now, I need you to keep her still.” 

Charlotte obliged, holding Angelina's head in her lap and resting her arms on the girl's shoulders. She pulled a clean rag from her apron pocket and placed it gently in the girl's mouth. 

“Bite down,” she whispered soothingly, “this might hurt.” 

A bone setting and countless stitches later, Angelina lay in her bed, her leg propped up and immobilized. Doctor Cyril had ordered complete bed rest for the foreseeable future, and now Angelina stared at the ceiling, hurting and utterly bored out of her mind. Charlotte sat at her side, knitting quietly as she kept watch. 

“Charlotte?” Angelina asked, and the maid looked up at her. “Will you get me some paper?” 

The hint of a smile crossed Charlotte's face, her eyes sparkling as she predicted the girl’s mischief. “What are you going to do with it?” she asked critically. 

“Just some drawing,” Angelina lied, “it's so boring just laying here.” 

Charlotte pursed her lips. “I suppose,” she said permissively, “but you have to promise not to try any spells right now! You need to recover.” 

“Okay!” the girl replied, “I promise!” 

Charlotte retrieved a piece of paper and a pencil and offered them to Angelina, who took them greedily. Just then, a knock brought Charlotte to the door, standing on the opposite side of the room. 

Angelina turned her attention to her paper, quickly drawing a magic circle for her light spell. 

“Just a quick one!” she mumbled, “I'll do it right this time!” 

She poured her mana into the circle, then watched ecstatically as the paper rose gently into the air, glowing brightly just as she had intended. 

“Charlotte, Charlotte! Look! I did it!” Angelina clapped cheerfully, but in the next moment, it was clear that something was terribly wrong. The paper transformed into a sphere of pure energy, hovering closely right above her bed. 

Angelina watched in dismay as the magical structure of the light spell began to collapse, pulsing erratically and sending volatile energy vibrating through the air. Then it froze in place, hanging suspended like an accident waiting to happen. The sphere folded in on itself, halving in size over and over until it couldn't get any smaller. 

Charlotte started toward the bed, crying out in futility, her face stark with terror as a final violent rush of energy burst across the room and what should have been a simple light spell exploded in Angelina's face. 

*** 

Mancer sat on his rock impatiently. It was already well past Angelina’s appointed lesson time, but the impetuous girl was nowhere to be found. 

“Where is she?!” he grumbled, “she should have been here by now!” Tumulus formed words on the ground in response, too self-conscious to speak out loud. 

Maybe you should go find her, the earth spirit suggested. 

“I guess,” Mancer huffed, “but this rock is too comfortable.” 

I could bring it with us, Tumulus replied helpfully. Mancer rolled his eyes. 

“Always with the sarcasm,” he scoffed. 

A new cave?! the earth spirit wrote excitedly, where is it?! 

“It's not a literal chasm!” Mancer groaned, “I'm going to check on her now, if only to save myself from your stupidity!” 

Tumulus returned to his contract symbol as Mancer walked to the main house, lamenting his inability to teleport and the supreme inconvenience that Rixi had imposed upon him. He let himself in through the window, entering Angelina's room silently. 

“What happened to you?” he asked innocently, “light spell backfire?” 

Angelina jumped in her bed, startled by his unexpected presence. Her vision was partially obscured by the bandages that covered her from head to toe and her head was still ringing from the explosion, so she hadn't noticed Mancer's entrance. 

“It's rude to teleport into someone's room without knocking!” she complained, “what if I had been changing?!” 

“I didn't teleport,” Mancer replied disdainfully, “and anyway, it's no big deal. A little kid like you is nothing to look at.” 

“That's not true!” Angelina sputtered, “I look pretty! Daddy said so!” 

“Your daddy watches you change?” he joked, poking the metaphysical bear. 

“No! Of course not!” she protested, “stop putting words in my mouth! And anyway, you like imaginary old elf ladies, so who are you to talk?!” 

“Jyna’s not that old, and she's very much real,” Mancer muttered, but Angelina didn't hear him. She didn't care either. “Anyway, what are you laying around in bed for?! It's way past time for your lesson!” 

Angelina gestured to her broken foot, her face sullen. “The doctor said it could be permanent,” she said mournfully, “so now I'm gonna be stuck here for the rest of my life!” Tears welled up in her eyes as she imagined herself growing old and dying in the same bed for the rest of her life. 

“Imbeciles,” Mancer scoffed, “there's no way that could be permanent. Take care of it, Seiche.” 

The water spirit floated out of his arm and over to the bed. She looked back at Mancer and said, “I will, but not because you asked; Angelina’s just too cute to ignore.” 

Angelina giggled as Seiche sat down on the girl's stomach, covering her with a thin veil of water. As a water spirit, Seiche's healing abilities were nearly unrivaled; only a divine saint, a sun spirit, or something of a similar nature could hope to come close. 

“What's with the passive aggression?” Mancer asked explicatively, “you used to be so kind.” 

Seiche raised an eyebrow. “First of all, you didn't ask nicely, and secondly, you still haven't made up with Rixi.” 

“That has nothing to do with you,” he grumbled. 

“You know how much she means to me, Mancer,” Seiche replied gently, “she's my best friend, and it hurts to see the two of you fighting. Can't you just make the promise?” 

“You know how dangerous it is for me to swear on my wellspring, and what Rixi wants me to say– I can't do it; it's too ambiguous.” 

“Why don't you try explaining that to her?” 

“She wouldn't understand,” he agonized, “she'll think I'm making excuses.” 

“I don't think you give Rixi enough credit. She's smarter than you think.” 

“She doesn't act like it,” he murmured.

Seiche glared at him, then turned her attention back to Angelina. The spirit's water flowed through the girl's body, cleansing her flesh of burns and impurities, knitting her bone and skin back together seamlessly, as if there had been no injury whatsoever. 

Angelina unbound her leg and marveled at the luster of her perfect skin. 

“You're amazing!” she squealed. She tried giving Seiche a hug, but she slipped away from her grasp. 

“I'm glad you're happy,” the water spirit said simply, and she disappeared into her contract symbol. 

Mancer grinned cruelly. “Well, now that you're all better, we can have your magic lessons! You've got a lot to learn in a short amount of time.” 

“I've got to change first!” Angelina protested. 

Mancer nodded, but stayed where he was. 

She frowned. “What are you doing?” 

“Waiting for you,” he shrugged. 

Angelina scrambled down from her bed and pushed Mancer toward the door. “You can't watch me change! That's gross! Now get out!” She slammed the door and locked it, leaving Mancer alone in the hall. 

Well, not quite alone. Shana was approaching the door when Angelina deposited him outside, inadvertently shoving him into her. 

Shana stumbled backwards into the wall, catching Mancer as he fell after her. She smiled. 

“Hi, Pericles!” she said cheerfully, “you're exactly the little boy I was looking for!” 

“I'm not little!” Mancer complained, “and don't call me Pericles!” 

Shana crouched down and ruffled his hair, looking him in the eye. “What would you like me to call you, then?” she asked. 

“Call me Mancer!” he said, “that sounds a lot cooler!” 

“Okay, Mancer.” She ruffled his hair once more and pulled a slip of paper from her dress. “This is from Everit,” she said, “your first mission.” 

Mancer read it briefly and stuffed it in his pocket, thinking complicated thoughts. The door behind them swung open and Angelina bounced out, ready to seize the day. 

“I'm here!” she called, “let's go, Mancer!” Her eyes widened as she noticed Shana for the first time. She threw her arms around her sister, squealing in delight. “Big sis Shana!” she exclaimed, “what are you doing here?!” 

“I came to help you get all better,” she lied, “but it seems someone beat me to it!” 

“Yeah. Seiche is awesome!” 

“Who's Seiche?” 

“Master Mancer's water spirit.” 

Shana raised an eyebrow. “That makes Mancer awesome, too, doesn't it?” 

“I guess…” Angelina looked back at Mancer. She expected a scathing retort, but none was forthcoming. Instead, he stood there, and she could tell he was thinking complicated thoughts. 

“Something wrong?” she asked, breaking him out of his reverie. 

“Nothing too important,” he replied, “we'll just have to speed up your education by about a month.”