Explosions, Part II
"Hey, Siesta, do you know when Mr. Colbert might be free?" Jason asked the maid the next morning as they met for breakfast.
She thought about it for a moment. "He takes most of his meals in his room, so he might be free right now."
"Okay. Um, would he mind us interrupting him?"
"I don't think so. He's one of the kindest nobles at the Academy."
"Good enough. Let's go."
They got up, then Siesta paused. "You don't mind if I don't go in with you, do you? I'm still . . . I don't need more noble attention."
"Er. Okay. Am I likely to get in trouble, you think?"
She hesitated. "If he's offended, he'll have to talk to Miss Vallière before doing anything."
Jason thought about it, then shrugged. "Eh, fair enough."
"Hello . . . er, young man, I fear I have quite forgotten the numbers you style yourself by." Mr. Colbert sat at his table, eating, but seemed amiable despite the intrusion.
Jason blinked. "Uh, sorry, my name's Jason. Louise actually got me to tell her later that first afternoon."
"Indeed?"
"Yeah, I suggested that she might be able to learn cantrips with enough practice, and she pointed out that if I wanted her to trust me enough to try things on my say-so, I should trust her enough to tell her who I am."
The professor looked at him with an indecipherable expression for a moment. "Is that why she's shown progress, despite the warnings we were given of her difficulties? An intuitive grasp of how she might resolve her issues with spellcasting is not an auxilum I would have thought to look for, for all that it has clearly proven its worth."
"Er, right." Don't think it was any kind of power beyond guesswork. "But that's not what I came here for."
"I expect not. Would this instead be related to the outlandish rumors being whispered yesterday?"
Jason couldn't help but blush at the indication that it wasn't just the servants who'd been gossiping.
Mr. Colbert chuckled. "I see. But you still hold your master's favor, so clearly the most outlandish rumors were exaggerated at best. So, does Miss Vallière wish a new text to study from? Spells her rival might not know?"
"I . . . not as far as I know, although maybe I should have asked her. I actually had a question of my own, and I figured you were the most likely to know the answer."
"Really?" The professor's voice was dry. "And what question is that?"
"Well, there are legends among my people, concerning items of great power. Boots that sprout wings and fly, belts that enhance strength, and so on."
"Legends of adventure, then, I would assume. The majority of nobilia are put to peaceful ends."
"The . . . I'm sorry, 'nobilia'?"
"A nobilum is an item that has been purposefully ennobled with magic. The lumen lapideus, whose dweomer provides light in your master's bedroom, for example."
"Oh." Figures they'd have a dedicated word for 'magic item'. "Okay, the legend I'm thinking of is something called a Ring of Free Action. It's supposed to allow its wearer to slip free of any restraints or binding spells. I was wondering if there was anything like that in Halkeginia."
Mr. Colbert looked thoughtful. "There are Water elementari that will make the target quite slippery, but it is illegal to ennoble an item such without a Crown warrant. Why would you feel the need for such?"
Jason grimaced. "I'm not sure 'slippery' is what I want. See, there's apparently this spell called Hold Person-"
The professor's eyebrows rose. "Perhaps the rumors were not so outlandish."
"Let's just say that those girls need to stop figuring out new ways to antagonize each other. But Hold Person?" Although what would the spell name would have translated to if we weren't familiar with Dungeons and Dragons?
Mr. Colbert took another bite of his breakfast, chewing slowly before he swallowed. "Hold Person is one of the more commonly known praesta. Any Line mage is well advised to know a spell that will halt a fight without causing harm, even if their affinity opposes Fire."
"So it's a Line spell, okay. What's a praesta?"
The professor only raised one eyebrow this time. "A praestum is a spell that partakes of the properties of both cantrip and elementari: It requires the mage to have reached Dot, or Line, or so on, but it may be learned by any mage of the appropriate strength, regardless of affinity or training. Why praesta may be studied universally is, of course, a mystery of Brimir that has yet to be unraveled. In any event, Madam Chevreuse will begin teaching them in autumn, to give students as much time as possible to finish learning the First Form cantrips."
Jason nodded in understanding. "But a prodigy who'd been a Line even before she got her familiar-?"
"Especially one with a strong Fire affinity? Yes, Miss Zerbst would have had the opportunity to learn the spell as a First Form, if she hadn't already been taught it by her family."
"Wait, Hold Person is Fire?"
He got a confirming nod in reply, and now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow. "You know, I can't help but remember this lecture about how Fire spells are only used to hurt people."
"Hold Person is not an elementari," Mr. Colbert pointed out. Then he shrugged. "But that is not what you mean, of course. Fire spells that directly affect the nerves and senses, from the lowliest cantrip to the mightiest Square, have a number of drawbacks in common, all of which combine to make them impractical for battle. They take longer to cast than most spells, they are shorter ranged, they must be aimed rather precisely, and it is most difficult to master them to the point of being able to affect more than one target per casting."
"Oh." Jason frowned. "But Hold Person is still useful, especially if the target isn't expecting it."
"Indeed."
"And there isn't anything like a Ring of Free Action."
"A nobilum whose dweomer acts as a sovereign ward against all restraints and bindings? I cannot say for certain that such does not exist, but there is no known method of ennobling such an item, nor is there anything like it listed in the public tallies of relics." Mr. Colbert smiled. "But you do not necessarily need so potent a nobilum."
"I don't?" Please don't give us some bullshit about having a caste duty to submit to mages.
"Madam Chevreuse experienced an understandable degree of apprehension when Miss Vallière's attempts at spells improved from total failure to explosive failure." The professor's eyes seemed to twinkle slightly. "Nonetheless she has since been impressed by your master's determination to make up for lost time. The cantrip Mix, once Miss Vallière finishes learning it, will permit her to prepare various lesser nobilia. It should not be particularly difficult or expensive for her to then prepare an amulet that will ward off the effects of Hold Person. Depending on the quality of reagents used, it might even block the spell several times before losing its magic."
"Okay." Jason thought for a moment. "There's nothing she can do now?"
Mr. Colbert looked thoughtful. "Miss Vallière has an excellent grasp of theory, arguably better than the rest of the new Second Form students. So perhaps she could determine the preparations for an amulet that would not require a wand to ennoble. But it would be expensive, in time or money or both. Best to learn Mix first, I think."
"Alright," Jason agreed, not without a certain degree of resignation.
"Besides," the professor continued, "hedge-mage methods would have no hope of ennobling an amulet to ward off Hold Person and also ward off Sleep, Unseen Cage, Earthen Grasp, or various others."
"How likely is Kirche to know any of those?"
"Not terribly. Not yet. But it seems unwise to over-expend on what would ultimately be a limited form of protection."
"Yeah, that's . . . a pretty good point. What about a spell that dispels other spells?"
"You mean the praestum Dispel? If Miss Vallière finishes her cantrips before autumn, I see no reason why she could not persuade Madam Chevreuse to provide her with a copy to study. But it requires more vis to cast than the original spell required in the first place, especially so if the dispelling mage has not learned the spell in question. Unless, of course, a version of Dispel is devised specifically for the figura of a particular spell, but again that would be a quite specific and limited counter." Mr. Colbert rose from his table. "And breakfast is nearly over, so it would likely be best to rejoin your master. But I would like to extend an invitation to stay after class this afternoon to the both of you, to discuss possible designs for one of your oil engines."
"I'll see what she says."
Louise was shaking her head when they left Mr. Colbert's lab that evening. "I never imagined he could be so enthusiastic about something."
"Yeah," he agreed. "Good to see he's able to work on what he loves."
"And you were keeping up with him!"
Jason glanced down at her expression. You know, it'd probably be best if we earned her respect honestly. "Only because I already had some general idea of how internal combustion engines work. Kinda sad that those 'firestone' sparkers of his won't last long enough."
She nodded. "You had a funny expression on your face when he said that. What were you thinking about?"
"Oh, yeah. That. Just regretting that I didn't bring certain books with me." There's room on the phone for at least a few hundred more. Geez, how long has it been since we read the Deathworld trilogy? "One of them describes a fairly basic way to make and then store tame lightning. If he's got a way to protect himself from shocks, I wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Colbert could duplicate that."
Louise frowned in confusion. "What does tame lightning have to do with your engines?"
"Oh, that's how we make the sparks. Once it's going, the engine is able to run whatever it's attached to and provide the energy to make more sparks to keep running. The only thing you have to worry about running out of is the gasoline." Jason stopped in his tracks. "And I didn't even think of this, because I was trying to keep up with him. You guys can store vis!"
His little mistress had stopped as well, and now looked at him with a puzzled expression. "We can?"
"Yeah, like the lumen . . . lapideus? Hit it with Empower, it keeps on glowing for a while. So all he has to do is figure out how to generate vis using the engine, and use that to recharge the firestone!"
Louise rolled her eyes and started walking again. "Vis doesn't work that way."
Jason took some big steps until he caught up with her. "What do you mean?"
"Vis is fluid until we use it, then it becomes dedicated. You can't change what it is once you use it."
"Why not?"
"Because you . . . you can't unbake a meal, can you?"
"Oh. Something like a phase-change when you use it. Damn. Nobody knows how to reverse or transfer vis?"
"If we did, we'd make reservoirs to store whatever we didn't use each day."
"Oh. Yeah, that makes sense." Jason, you idiot. If the society that's been using magic for centuries hasn't come up with working magitek, it's probably not that easy to do. "Double damn."
That night, when it was almost time to practice developing his universal auxilia, Louise gave him a thoughtful look. "Have you come up with any codes already? I know you like to write things down in that foreign script you use."
He nodded. "Sort of. I've come up with some stuff, but we need to see what kind of signals we can do."
"Signals?"
"Yeah. For example, here's a light push. Felt that?"
His little mistress nodded back.
"Here's a harder push. Feel the difference?"
She nodded again.
"Okay, now here I'm going to start out light, and try to end heavy."
Once again, Louise looked thoughtful. "Can you do it the other way? Heavy to light, like this?"
Jason smiled at her. "Yep, was gonna try that next. Okay, that's four different signals: Light, heavy, more, and less. If we use sequences of four signals, that's 256 combinations. Five signals gets us 1,024 different combinations, and each one can represent an idea. We'll need to memorize the ones we assign meaning to, of course."
She nodded a third time. "But what kind of words should we include in the code?"
He pulled out his notebook and flipped to the page he'd been brainstorming on. "To start off with, basic stuff like the elements, colors, numbers, directions, cantrip, Dot, Line, Triangle, Square. Names of various spells. Various locations in the Academy. Different people: Madam Chevreuse, Mr. Colbert, maybe whoever the Headmaster is, you, me, and Siesta, probably Tabitha and Kirche for when they decide to cause trouble. Directives like go there, do that, collect this, meet so-and-so. Status, like injured, stuck, hungry, delayed, and so on. Then there's the more complicated stuff."
"So they would be like army signals, but for the Academy," Louise agreed. "What about the 'complicated' ones?"
"So far I've come up with 'Stop what you're doing, that's a bad idea'. 'We need to confer in private'. 'I have a good reason to be doing this, please play along for now'. 'What I am about to say out loud is inaccurate'. 'Hang in there, I'm on my way'. 'Don't give up, you'll get it done'. I'm sure we can come up with more."
"I suppose." Then she frowned. "But that means coming up with messages, deciding what their code will be, and drilling them until we have all of them memorized. It'll all take time."
"True," Jason agreed, "but it'd just be the time we were already spending on developing my auxilia. Unless you want to try to push through until we can finally share senses."
She considered it for a moment. "Brimir only knows how long that will take. Let's focus on the codes for now."
A few days later, as he finished his morning jog, he saw a crowd of students, teachers, and servants gathering around the other side of the central tower. Okay, what are the sequences again? [Come][Center Tower][Unusual]
A few minutes after receiving the signals, Louise showed up with a puzzled expression. It deepened when she saw the crowd. "That's the vault entrance. Why is everyone gathered there?"
Jason shrugged. "Dunno. Shall we?"
By now he'd spotted Siesta in the crowd, but his little mistress led him over to where the students were clustering. Once they were close enough they could see that a hole had been melted into the wall.
"-and how many of you standing here can say that you have been ceaselessly vigilant when you stand watch?" an elderly man, hair and beard and mustache all silver-white with age, demanded of the professors.
The bulk of them refused to look at each other, heads drooping in shame. Jason repressed a smirk as he noticed that Mr. Colbert was one of three keeping their heads high.
"Who's the older guy?" he whispered to Louise. "And why are they standing watch?"
"That's Headmaster Osmond," she whispered back. "And you can't just have a commoner guard the vault. What if a thief uses magic?"
"Huh. You know, I don't think I've ever seen one when I go down at night."
She shrugged. "They probably go to bed as soon as they think they can get away with it. No one has broken into the vault for generations."
"Okay, and . . . the hell-?!"
This exclamation, only barely kept to a whisper, came as the Headmaster began patting the bottom of a teacher who was examining the hole. So here's our wise, ancient wizard, but we didn't get Gandalf. Oh no sir, we got friggin' Belgarath!
Louise grimaced. "He has a repu-"
She was cut off as Osmond turned to address the students and the servants. "Was there anyone at all who witnessed the theft? If you were out past curfew, don't worry, we won't punish you no matter what you were doing."
But everyone remained remained silent.
Then the teacher straightened up, and Jason did his best not to wince as he recognized Madam Chevreuse. Sweet angels of mercy, tell us they aren't banging. No! Stop! No visualizing! Bad imagination! Bad!
She began speaking(and without any indication that she'd noticed Headmaster Osmond's wandering hand). "Headmaster, it appears that a potion has been applied to this section of the wall every night for the past week, if not longer. Once the wall became weak enough, a Triangle, or even a Line could call on a vernaculum strong enough to break through."
The crowd was silent for a moment, then someone exclaimed: "Fouquet!"
Almost immediately the name was passed back and forth through the crowd, an excited chorus of shouts and murmurs.
"Who's Fouquet?" Jason whispered to Louise.
"He's a Triangle of Earth who used to roam around Halkeginia and rob the most powerful nobles," she whispered back. "Although he never tried to rob us. Anyway, no one's heard from him in half-a-year, so people thought he'd finally been slain, or made his fortune, or maybe even settled down with his true love. They call him the Crumbling Dirt, because he's supposed to be able to break into any stronghold, but last year they also started calling him the Earthen Fist, because when he was cornered while robbing the d'Arenberg estate he called up the biggest elemental anyone has ever seen to help him escape."
"Ah. And a vernaculum?"
"Merciful Brimir, again?!" She rolled her eyes, but continued to whisper an explanation. "Vernacula are . . . things directly controlled by a mage to act for him. Such as Mr. Colbert's fiery serpent. Fouquet must have discovered something during his robberies, because his elemental was larger than any earth elemental can be and still move without collapsing."
A few moments later, a woman – she had green hair, which wasn't even surprising anymore, although . . . Jadetress, maybe? No, verdetress – came walking out of the hole. She wore a purple cloak over a long blue dress that rather resembled the robe Mr. Colbert favored, Jason noticed, and stopped out of range of the Headmaster's grasp.
"Ah, Miss Longueville," Headmaster Osmond greeted. "What did you discover?"
"You were correct, sir. The Staff is missing, and Fouquet left his customary taunt."
At that moment, there was a tiny rustling sound behind the verdetress. Her eyes widened as she leapt to the side, hissing . . . at a white mouse who scurried over in the direction of the Headmaster.
But instead of blasting the little vermin, the old man bent over and extended his hand, palm up, towards the pale rodent. Who promptly jumped into his hand, and was then conveyed to his shoulder.
Oh. It's probably his familiar.
The mouse squeaked and chittered into its master's ear for a moment, before burrowing into silver hair and vanishing.
"Is it white today, again?" Osmond inquired of Miss Longueville. (Who flinched and gripped her wand a bit tighter.) "So unimaginative. But Mótsognir reports that Fouquet masked his scent carefully, leaving no trace that he can identify.
"Nonetheless, Brimir smiles upon us all!" he suddenly boomed out. "I know a ritual, thankfully short, to utilize the correspondence between his taunt and what he stole. However, that shall fade in mere hours, and therefore we must act now. Who would like the glory of hunting down and capturing this notorious thief?"
The teachers all looked at each other, but no one moved to volunteer.
"Giant elemental, huh? Got a reputation for being dangerous to tangle with after that?" Jason whispered.
His little mistress nodded.
The Headmaster scowled. "No one? Is there truly no one with the courage to face Fouquet the Crumbling Dirt?"
Again no one responded . . . until Louise set her face, took a deep breath, and slowly lifted her wand.
"The hell are you-!" Jason started to hiss, but was interrupted.
"Put your hand down, dear!" Madam Chevreuse called out over the crowd, in a shocked tone. "This isn't a matter for students to tangle deal with! Let the teachers handle it."
"But none of you are willing to!" Louise protested. "And Zerbst won't dare mock me after this," she muttered to her familiar in a much lower voice.
Unfortunately, Kirche was close enough to catch that murmur. "Forget the Zero!" she declared, quickly raising her wand. "Zerbst will take the field and have this done before lunchtime!"
She can do what she wants, but we've had enough of this! Jason grabbed his little mistress's wand with his left hand and scooped her up with his right arm, pinning her arms to her sides. "Miss Vallière is NOT going," he announced firmly to the faces that were more and more turning to take in the student drama.
"PUT ME DOWN YOU WRETCHED COMMONER!" she yelled in response, and started kicking at him. Fortunately for his future posterity, she lacked both the position and the leverage to get in the lucky shot that would have laid him low.
Mr. Colbert seemed to almost shrink into himself for a moment, but then stood tall and squared his shoulders. "The familiar is correct. Miss Vallière and Miss Zerbst will remain here, and I will go. This is a matter for us professors to handle."
Jason shot the older man a look of gratitude. Kirche, however, was undeterred. "Sir, I'm a Triangle of Fire! I can face Fouquet on equal grounds, just like you!"
The professor's face . . . changed as he met the impetuous redhead's gaze. It was subtle, but his eyes were suddenly-
That's how you do a thousand-yard stare, Jason noted to himself, shifting his grip on Louise as she started trying to bite.
Kirche looked uneasy, but she kept her wand up, and nudged Tabitha, standing right next to her.
The tiny mage looked up at her friend, and then without changing expression slowly raised her wand. "I'll go," she said, softly but clearly. "Faster on Sylphid, to pursue."
"Our thanks, Dame Tabitha," Headmaster Osmond responded solemnly. "Fouquet was a fool to try his luck here, with so many gallant nobles prepared to go in pursuit!"
Then Miss Longueville (who had relaxed once her boss relayed his familiar's report, apparently reassured that it had been given a more important errand than spying on what she wore beneath her dress) spoke up. "Headmaster, you know I'm only a Line of Earth. I can't face Fouquet directly, but I can at least try to counter any traps he might set for pursuers."
The Headmaster nodded thoughtfully. "You do possess considerable skill with traps," he agreed, a tiny smirk briefly crossing his face. "Dame Tabitha, call your familiar while I cast the tracking spell. We must give Fouquet as little time as possible to flee."
The spell, however it worked, took Osmond considerably more time to cast than the usual few seconds that the students normally used to cast their spells. Jason had no idea if that was because the headmaster was slowing down with age, or if that was simply how the spell worked, and at the moment he couldn't exactly ask Louise. But soon enough Tabitha's dragon swooped down for a landing, and the headmaster finished casting shortly thereafter, and handed something small to Mr. Colbert.
Kirche smirked at her rival as she strutted over to where Sylphid had landed. Louise snarled in response, fighting all the harder to break free as the four mages mounted the dragon. She did pause, though, to watch as the pursuit team took off over the forest.
Jason shook his head and made his way over to Siesta. "It'd probably be best to bring us an early luncheon," he quietly told the maid, handing over his little mistress's wand as she slumped, defeated, in his arms.
"You'll be . . ?"
"In her quarters," he nodded. "Better for what's coming to be in private, I think."
Siesta nodded back faintly, and Jason headed out towards the tower housing Louise's bedroom.
"Alright," he told her, as he set her down on the floor. "I'm going to let you go, but first, here are the rules: No biting, no scratching, no kicking, no spellcasting. No hitting me above my chest or below my belly. That said, feel free to pound on me for as long as you want." Then he released her and straightened up, stepping back and carefully tensing his stomach muscles.
"What did you do with my wand!?" she snarled, hands clenching into claws.
"Handed it off for safekeeping. And watch what you're doing with your hands. Fists are fine, claws are not."
Glaring up at him, Louise stepped forward and, after considering it, drove her fist into Jason's belly as hard as she could. It rocked him back half-an-inch, but keeping his stomach tense prevented her from driving the wind out of him.
"Good," he said. "Do it again."
She hit him again. He nodded in approval. She let out a howl and started hitting him as fast and as hard as she could, eschewing careful aim to just pound on his chest over and over and over . . .
Eventually she stopped, gasping for breath. He left her to it and went over to the buckets of water. Usually there was at least one left untouched in the morning, because four buckets was frankly overkill, and today was no exception. He used a mug to get a nice, cool drink, then refilled it and brought it to Louise.
She drank it so quickly that Jason brought her another one. When she finished the second drink she set the mug on the table and started pounding his chest again.
When she stopped the second time, he brought her some more water. After another two cups, she walked over to the washroom to urinate.
When she came back out, Jason raised an eyebrow in silent question. Her growl was the only response, so he shrugged and offered his chest for more tenderizing.
It was during the fifth round that a knock came on the door. Louise broke off suddenly, panting but giving the door an uncertain look.
"Do you want to get that, or should I?" Jason asked her mildly. She didn't respond, looking away sullenly, so he walked over to the door (slowly, since by now his chest, sides, and arms were all feeling . . . tender) and opened it.
As he rather expected, Siesta was on the other side, carrying their lunch on a tray. Her eyes opened wide as she saw him step out of the room. "You're bleeding! What happened to your lip?"
He rubbed the indicated spot gingerly. "Bit of an accident. She wasn't trying to hit me there, I just moved my head wrong. Don't worry about it. And, uh-" He made a little motion with his other hand.
The maid looked dubious, but produced Louise's wand, which Jason discreetly pocketed. Then he took the tray, quietly thanked her, and went back inside.
"So," he said as he set lunch down on the table, "do you want to resume round five, or should we eat and then continue from?"
"Not hungry," Louise muttered. But she sat at the table . . . and grabbed both glasses of lemonade. Glaring at him, clearly daring him to object, she drank one of them and put the other one on the table in front of her. He shrugged and got another mug of water.
"You should eat," Jason pointed out. "You skipped breakfast, and after all that exercise your body needs to replenish. Remember what happened last time."
"I said I'm not hungry!" she insisted sullenly.
"Well, this is lunchtime, so right now it's not about what you want, little mistress. It's about what you need." He eyed her unchanging expression and sighed. "For the record, it's been almost a decade since I did this, so I'm a bit out of practice."
So saying, Jason picked up a bite from her end of the lunch tray and started waving it around, making a loud humming noise as he swooped it in dives and climbs like an airplane. Louise's look soon changed from tired, sullen fury to sheer confusion at his antics, but as soon as she opened her mouth to say something, his hand darted forward and deposited the food into her mouth.
She continued to stare in shock for a moment, then chewed and swallowed. "What was that about?"
"Um . . . I guess around here it would be called 'wind dragon looking for a place to land'."
"And you did this ten years ago?"
"I was asked to look after some other kids. They didn't always want to eat, so sometimes I had to make it a game."
She looked at him. Then at the plate. Then back at him. "Well?"
He rolled his eyes and picked up another bite from the tray.
She succeeded in biting his fingers on the third mouthful.
"SonovaBITCH!" he cursed as he yanked his fingers back, shaking them to try to relieve the pain.
She chewed, swallowed, and smirked. "You said this was a game."
Right. We need to see about inventing forks and spoons for the next time we have to do this.
By the end of the meal, Jason's hand was covered in both crumbs and tooth-marks.
"So," he said, making to stand up, "shall we-"
Louise grabbed his hand. "I'm not done with my meal."
"I think you-"
Then he froze, sitting back down, as she leaned forward and began nibbling and licking up the crumbs.
Even with the lingering soreness from her biting, having the softness of her lips and tongue caressing and teasing each finger in turn was quickly turning him on. Hands have a lot more nerves per square inch than the average for the human body, we need it for feedback and fine manipulation, and oh don't you dare think about where she might start nibbling next-
Mindful of the special hell, Jason stayed completely still as she finished up with his thumb. As she did, his little mistress glanced up at him, eyes glinting, and moved back to the fleshy part between thumb and forefinger. Then, holding his hand firmly in place with both of hers, she bit down, hard.
Well, that was enough to snap him out of the erotic daze he'd slipped into. Although this time he managed to keep his reaction down to a hiss between clinched teeth until she let him go.
"I thought you were going to draw blood there," he commented as he examined his poor womanhandled appendage.
"Who says I wasn't trying?" Louise retorted.
Jason sighed and drank his porridge. "Yeah, I am so going to invent forks and spoons."
She blinked at the apparent non-sequitur. "What are those?"
"Protection," he told her, with no small irony. "A spoon is a very small cup or bowl on the end of a handle. You use it to scoop out bits of food and bring them to your mouth. It's ideal for liquids like soup and porridge. A fork is . . . think of a knife, but instead of having a cutting edge the blade branches out into 3 or 4 short spikes for stabbing pieces of food and bringing them to your mouth. They both help keep your hands clean, without needing a wand or an endless supply of cloths. Also useful for playing 'dragon landing' without getting bitten."
She smirked. "Oh? I thought you didn't seem to mind when your master graciously cleaned your hand for you."
Mind? Uh, no, not until . . . He shivered. "It was rather nice, until the end. Didn't I say 'no biting'?"
"That was when I was hitting you," Louise declared innocently. "This was luncheon."
Okay, if she's pulling this kind of feminine playful cruelty, she's got to be feeling a bit better. "Right. Ready to talk about it, then?"
That got her to scowl. "I should go find my whip and start in on you again."
But her grumble didn't seem to have a lot of force behind it. Fortunately.
"No whips, little mistress, we already covered that. Although . . . why did you even have a whip?"
"It was a gift from my oldest sister, Eléonore." An odd expression came over her. "She's . . . she can be mean, sometimes, but she loves me and wants me to do well."
Jason gave Louise's expression a searching look for a moment. Either you're a lot more mature about your sister than you are about everything else, or else she's abusive but she paid you enough attention to leave you with a bit of Stockholm. "So it's a gift, okay. But why did she give you a whip?"
"In case I needed to discipline my familiar. She thought I might not be able to control it with just the bond." Then his little mistress tilted her head in a move that he would swear was copied from his own body language. "She was right, too!"
"Perils of a human familiar. But back to this morning. Are you ready to talk about it?"
"You aren't going to give up, are you?" Louise sighed. "Go ahead."
"Good, because I'm starting to stiffen up. So, little mistress, you seem to be upset! What's on your mind?"
She scowled and rolled her eyes. "Why did you stop me from going?! Don't you know how much that shamed me in front of everyone?"
Jason sat straight up, blanked his face, and looked down at his little mistress sternly. "I don't know what your level really is, because we haven't found your correct element, or the correct approach to your element, or whatever the hell the problem is. Effectively, however? You are a low-end Dot who can, admittedly, do a Line-level explosion. Fouquet is a Triangle who can infiltrate anywhere and has a nasty reputation for dealing with pursuers.
"I am your friend, Louise, and I will NOT let you KILL yourself!"
By the end of his declaration, she was trembling with renewed rage, and she stood back up, snarling at him. As soon as he got up out of his chair, she resumed the process of pounding on him. But after a few blows, she started hiccuping, and he reached out and gathered her in as her resistance collapsed (concealing a wince, because his chest really was sore), just in time for her to start sobbing into his shoulder.
It took her a while to cry out.
"My mother's a Square," Louise finally got out between hiccuping sobs as she wound down. "A good one. Father would be a Square if he'd just take the time to practice. Eléonore's a Line and she's going to be a Triangle soon, and then a Square after that. My other sister, Cattleya, she's also a Line, and if her health were better she'd be able to be a Triangle, too! I'm not even a real Dot yet!" she concluded with a wail.
"These are your older sisters, though, right?" Jason pointed out softly, stroking her hair gently.
"That doesn't matter! They were both Lines when they were 16! And I'm stuck as a First Form Dot, and even with the magic I can do I can't do anything important because that Zerbst WITCH does it ten times better and has a chest and has everyone lining up to do whatever she wants and I'll never ever be . . ."
She reburied her head in his shoulder as new sobs shook her body.
We gotta admit, she's got better reasons for her adolescent angst than we ever did.
Although we may have some solutions for her magic.
But in the absence of strong evidence to the contrary, assume an upset woman wants comfort and a shoulder to cry on, not problem-solving. At least until she's done crying.
So he held her, patted her, stroked her hair, and waited until she'd cried herself out again.
"That's quite the burden you're carrying," Jason admitted, "and no mistake. Is that the full load, or is there anything else I should know about? A deadly prophecy, enemies in the Royal court . . . anything?"
Louise shook her head, mumbling into his shoulder. "Zerbst is enough of an enemy. The Zerbst estates border right up against the Vallière estates, and we've been feuding with each other for centuries."
"So it feels like you're failing your family twice over, whenever you lose against her. Oh, little mistress, I'm sorry. That's gotta suck."
He held her in silence for a moment. "That is all, though, right? La Vallière isn't in trouble with the throne or anything, yes?"
"No, we're not. When I was growing up I would even-" Her grip tightened as some fresh horror presented itself. "Oh, no, she's coming and there's no time-!"
"Who is coming, little mistress?"
"Princess Henrietta! She's coming back from Germania soon and she's going to visit on Brimir's Day! I promised her I would have a wonderful familiar to show her! And my magic! It was supposed to be better now!"
"Well, your magic is better, now. And . . . I'd like to think I'm not too horrible to have around."
Louise pulled her face out of his shoulder and just looked up at him with wide and teary eyes. "Zerbst has a salamander. Tabitha has a wind dragon."
Well . . . "Point."
"She's going to be so disappointed!"
"I take it she's a friend?"
"We used to play together, when we were children."
"Hmmm . . . you know, I don't think she'll be as disappointed as you expect," Jason said thoughtfully. "The way you've struggled with magic all your life, she'll be happy for you that you've come as far as you have."
Louise looked away. "She needs strong allies like Zerbst or Tabitha, not useless little girls who can't even cast Ignite properly."
Should we tell her? As bitter as she is, she could use some cheering. "Useless, huh? I guess you haven't figured out that Kirche is afraid of you."
She whipped her head back around to stare up at him so quickly that for a moment he was worried about whiplash. "What?"
"In that . . . situation in her room, she let me go because she was afraid that you would cast a spell and blow us all to smithereens. I'm not going to tell you everything's fine, but you've got some serious power in your magic." He patted her back. "We could always take Princess Henrietta out to a field and show her how you can blow everything up."
"I'm not that good at making things explode."
"Actually, you are." That got Louise to start glaring again. Jason winced, but continued. "If you up against another mage, and you manage to get your wand out first, you can probably drop them with one spell. One explosion, rather."
"Then why wouldn't you let me go-"
"Because you haven't been training with it." He did his best not to sound exasperated. "It's something I know from back home: A typical town guardsman usually misses the target at hilariously short distances. Because they haven't practiced, and because they don't get into actual fights very often. So they almost always miss at more than a few paces.
"Were you expecting Fouquet to stand still, posing dramatically and making a villainous speech, to give you long enough to miss a bunch of times before finally hitting?"
Louise scrunched her face up into a pout. "We could have ended up close enough before starting the fight," she muttered after a few moments.
"When he can call up the biggest elemental anyone has ever seen? Think it through, little mistress."
Her face scrunched up even more, as though sucking on a lemon, before she gave up and buried her face into his shoulder again. "So even my explosions are useless."
"Not necessarily."
"You just said-"
"Only as it is now. The key to getting better is to practice. Maybe we can get Mr. Colbert to let us off in the afternoons for independent study."
That got her to pause. "You think so?"
"Could be. You guys seem to be doing more practice than theory in Second Form, and your explosions aren't something anyone else can work on with you. And, hell, it's probably best to work with them away from everyone else." He paused in turn. "But speaking of class, I think I heard the noon bell earlier, so the afternoon classes should be starting after luncheon. If Mr. Colbert's still gone, I'm not sure who's supposed to be teaching us, but . . . are you feeling up to heading down there?"
Louise let out a long, shuddering sigh. "We really should go back down. Ugh, I look horrible, don't I?"
Never. "Let me get a cloth, I'll wash your face off."
After he finished wiping her cheeks and eyes, she took the cloth away from him, and started rubbing at the blood on his lip and chin. "You're not bleeding anywhere else, are you?" she asked when she was finished.
"No." Jason groaned as he stretched. "Sore, yes. Bleeding, no."
Louise winced in response, then got up and went over to her armoire, opening it up and bending over. "Take off your shirt," she called out to him.
He froze, mouth opened in shock as he stared at her back. Or, rather, her backside. She did not just say that. There's no possible way she can mean-
His little mistress straightened up and turned back to him. "I told you to take off your shirt," she said.
"Uh-"
Then she held up the little bottle of bruise salve she'd used to fix his face, back when she'd first been working on Awaken. "There should be enough left of this to make you feel better."
"Oh." Jason quickly pulled his shirt over his head, his face burning. You complete and utter moron! Did you really think, even for a second, that she was suggesting make-up sex? Idiot! "Thanks, I'd forgotten you still had that. Here." Now shirtless, he held out his hand for the bottle.
She ignored his outstretched hand as she walked up to him, poured a bit of the salve into her hand, and reached up and started rubbing it into his upper chest and shoulders.
The surprise made him freeze up. "Louise?"
She flushed faintly, and looked away for a moment. "I shouldn't have hit you so much," she muttered, and kept rubbing in the salve. "This is my responsibility as your master."
"Uh . . . okay."
His little mistress paused after emptying her hand of the dollop of bruise salve she'd poured out, then thoughtfully tapped a finger on Jason's chest. "You know, you don't look as much like pudding as you did when I summoned you," she finally commented. "And your chest doesn't feel like pudding, either. So your programme of exercise has been working, and I expect you to keep at it."
Jason nodded faintly, not trusting himself to speak, as she poured out another dollop and got back to work.
Finally, she let him put his shirt back on. "Thank you, little mistress. It feels better already."
"Don't thank me!" Louise snapped, hunching down before continuing in a mumble: "I told you I shouldn't have hit you so much. I-I . . . I'm sorry."
He shrugged, and pulled her in one last time, unresisting, for a hug and a kiss on the top of her head. "You've been holding all of that in for how long? All of your life, for some of it. It's healthier to let go of the rage and frustration, if you can, but sometimes you just have to wear yourself out before you can face it."
When they entered the courtyard to wait for lunch to end, the usual crowd of familiars waiting outside the dining hall was entirely expected. In addition, however, there was a woman dressed as a teacher sitting down alongside what looked like a number of bandages.
"They haven't returned, have they, Madam Sousen?" Louise asked.
The teacher shook her head. "Not yet. I've been waiting all morning so that the infirmary wouldn't have to disrupt their routine if Mr. Colbert brought someone back with injuries. Mr. Edelsten has been working on patching the breach in the tower, and now that morning classes are out, Madam Chevreuse has joined him."
"What if they don't get back before the end of lunch?"
"Then Mr. Trilgras will likely teach all the Second Form students together in one of the larger lecture halls." Madam Sousen pursed her lips, then continued. "You should know that he prefers to go by his mage title, even in class: Kaita the Gust."
Louise nodded, and she and Jason went over by the entrance of the dining hall to wait.
"Does that mean anything, that this Mr. Trilgras likes to be addressed by his given name and title?" he asked her quietly.
"It means he's proud of his title," his little mistress responded. "'Gust' implies that his magic is fast and strong, and I think I remember that he's the youngest teacher at the Academy, too."
"Hmm."
As lunch ended, a tall man(only a couple of inches shorter than Jason) exited the dining hall, leading the Second Form students. His hair was long and dark brown, a scowl was displayed upon his hawk-like face, and the long cape he wore fluttered in a non-existent breeze. Familiar and master glanced at each other, shrugged, and joined the other students in the procession.
The man led them to a room that was, indeed, significantly larger than the classroom Mr. Colbert taught in, and set up for potentially hundreds of people to attend a lecture. The students filed in, sorting themselves into four rough groupings. One of those groupings consisted of Mr. Colbert's students, and it didn't take a genius to guess that each group represented an elemental affinity.
"I am Kaita the Gust," the man declared from the podium, once everyone was seated. His voice boomed out, easily audible to all via what just about had to be magic, whether spell or dweomer. "Because of the foolishness this morning, today I am forced to put up with those of you who only possess an affinity with a lesser element. Since I must instruct you all today, the lesson will be on the proper humility and deference you lesser mages ought to display towards those of us who are blessed by Brimir to be of Air."
This set off shocked whispers among three of the groups of students. The fourth group had mixed reactions: Some bore expressions of smug agreement, others looked embarrassed or resigned, and a very few had no expressions at all.
"Silence!" the professor boomed out. "Do you think me arrogant, boastful? The storm overcomes everything: Fire, dirt, or water! You may tread upon the base soil, you may swim in water, you may warm yourselves with fire . . . but air is all around you, surrounding you every moment of every day. How foolish must you be, to think that you can hope to stand against the oncoming storm?
"Let this be the beginning of the humility you lesser mages must learn. Or are there any here so brazen as to think they can challenge me, when I command the winds themselves?"
There was silence as the students looked around at each other. Finally one skinny blond boy – he looked oddly familiar, although Jason couldn't quite remember from where – stood up. "I am Guiche de Gramont, called the Bronze, a Line of Earth. My noble father taught me that the elements are equal, that a mage's power lies in his skill, not his affinity."
Wait, isn't he the hairball fop?
Kaita sneered as he stepped down from the podium towards one end of the space at the front of the lecture hall. "Indeed. Step forward, boy. And to demonstrate the superiority of Air, I will restrict myself to Line spells only."
The professor waited until Guiche stepped into the opposite end, and then then mockingly bowed, clearly offering the opportunity to cast first. The blond student flushed, but responded by shaking the petals off of his rose-wand in a dramatic gesture. They fell to the floor between the two duelists, and where the petals fell seven gleaming bronze figures rose up, armed with sharp-looking spears. They quickly started towards Kaita, lifting their spears menacingly.
"Vernacula, right?" Jason whispered. "More elementals?"
"Not elementals, no. Constructs," his little mistress corrected, her voice equally soft. "The de Gramont bronze valkyries, that can match even orcs."
But as the constructs approached, Kaita flicked his wand dismissively, not even bothering to chant, and an almost-visible breeze whirled into the bronze warriors, pushing them around and crashing into each other. As Guiche waved his rose frantically, trying to get his conjured force sorted out, the Air professor waved his wand again, and a similar breeze buffeted the student, spinning the blond around and around until he started throwing up.
Louise nodded approving. "Mr. Trilgras knows what he's doing, at least," she whispered to her familiar as Guiche started to stagger back to his seat. "Mother would approve of his skirmishing tactics."
A tall, slender blonde sitting in what (by process of elimination) had to be the Water group stood up next, and his little mistress smirked. "Montmorency wants to prove that she can succeed where Guiche failed," she whispered, and with that cue Jason managed to recognize her. She'd been the Second Form blonde that Guiche had been sitting with when the First Form brunette had sought the boy out, that first day.
He tried not to snicker as he recalled Louise's reaction to that disastrous liaison. "I take it they aren't back together."
She shook her head. "Montmorency still refuses to talk to him." Then she quieted as the blonde Water mage arrived at her position in the dueling lane.
Her spell conjured a puddle of water, which went creeping across the distance between her and Kaita. "Trying not to let him pick the water up with air, right?" Jason whispered, and got a confirming nod. Unfortunately for Montmorency's pride, Kaita's return spell, also aimed against the floor, still caused the puddle to rise up in a vast wave, reverse direction, and crash into her.
Jason shook his head. She looks like a drowned rat. "I don't suppose it's occurred to anyone that Kaita's probably using elemental counters that he's practiced with for years?" he whispered as she began to trudge back to her seat.
Louise frowned. "It could be. You think so?"
"Is he right about Air being superior?"
"No."
"So these are just good counters for . . . you said skirmishing?"
"That's right."
"Then, yeah, that's what I'd do before proclaiming superiority over the other elements."
"That does makes sense," Louise allowed. "Although Mother and Father haven't spoken of him, so he probably has his experience on the dueling circuit. Now hush!" she commanded as one of the boys from Mr. Colbert's class stood up.
He began cautiously, casting a single Firebolt.
Kaita sneered as he effortlessly extinguished the fiery dart. "Not even a Line? Attempt a real elementari, you mewling whelp."
The boy set his face, and cast Dazzle next, although his spray of sparks and embers was not half so thick as the one Mr. Colbert had produced. Kaita's counter caused the stream to turn around and head straight for the student, who hastily cast Extinguish and then stood there, trembling.
"Are you afraid to fight?" the professor demanded with another sneer. "Back to your seat, whelp." Then he looked around the hall. "No one else? You all understand, then, that the greatest element is, has, and will always be-"
"Fire, of course!"
Heads turned towards the doorway at this sudden and timely interruption.
Kirche stood there, posing for her admiring audience, and then strutted into the room, preening as every eye fell upon her. "I heard you were blowing out candles in here. Did the Zero think she could represent Fire?"
Jason had a hand on Louise's shoulder immediately. [Remain Calm] But perhaps she was too tired to want to fight, for she did nothing.
"Ah, Miss Zerbst." Kaita smiled. Almost leered, to be honest. Although, okay, he wasn't the only one by a long shot. "Your reputation precedes you. If you are truly so confident, you may step up and present me with your own candle for snuffing."
Kirche's smile disappeared, and she marched up to the dueling space.
The Air professor only smirked as she raised her wand. The same blazing sphere appeared as in the outdoors class that first week, when she'd shown off to everyone, and as it grew her long, crimson hair began to stream out behind her. The closest students from Mr. Colbert's class began to scramble backwards, ducking behind the desks for cover. And still Kaita only stood there smirking.
Finally she released the Fireball, and a sphere at least a yard across raced towards Kaita. He made no attempt to dodge, but merely waved his wand in an X pattern.
A quick gust of wind erupted from the pattern he'd made and blew through the center of the Fireball, collapsing it and showering the front desks with tiny little licks of flame that soon flickered out. The gust continued onward, slamming into Kirche and knocking her head over heels.
Kaita bowed mockingly. "That, Miss Zerbst, is why Air is the strongest. Wind can sweep up everything. Fire, water, and dirt alike cannot find footing when faced against strong enough winds."
"What are you doing, Trilgras?" This time it was Mr. Colbert in the doorway. He looked older and weary, but he stood straight as he sternly regarded the Air instructor. "The gust that blows out one flame is consumed by the next. The elements are in balance: It is only the mage who is not."
"Brave words from an old man who's afraid to spar," the Air professor sneered.
"I do not play silly games, you child," came the cold retort. "That doesn't mean I cannot fight, and if these students need to see the balance of elements in action to correct the damage your hubris causes, then so be it."
With that, Mr. Colbert walked over to Kirche and helped her up, then claimed the spot that she'd vacated.
Kaita sneered again. "Are you ready for your lesson in humility, old man?"
The Fire professor only nodded. This time Kaita did not wait for his opponent to cast first, and so both men began casting simultaneously, and completed their spells so close together that Jason couldn't tell who'd finished first.
Mr. Colbert's spell only raised a gleaming spark in front of him, but Kaita's spell sent a veritable gale raging out towards the older man. It seemed inevitable that it would overwhelm and extinguish the spark that had been raised, but then the air buffeting the spark caught fire, and in but a moment the gale was a raging inferno.
Dueling or skirmishing, our teacher knows of those counter spells, and knows how to counter them! Although the thought raced too quickly though Jason's mind for words.
And before he could begin to whisper it to Louise, Kaita blanched, quickly stopping his spell and starting to cast a new one. But Mr. Colbert gathered the inferno with a flick of his wand and shaped a fiery snake from the vast flames, twin to the one that he sometimes demonstrated in class but much larger. It roared, flying at the Air professor, and grabbed his wand arm in its jaws, shaking it until the wand flew out of his hand, as the rest of the snake coiled tightly around the man.
Moments later, Mr. Colbert gestured one last time with his wand and the Air instructor was lifted into the air, securely bound by the flame snake that was his signature and title.
"In a real battle, I would have the serpent rip my opponent's throat out, so that I could move on to the next enemy," he announced grimly. "Sometimes, however, you wish to take a prisoner. The advantage of this method is that his allies would not dare disrupt my concentration, because if I let go the fire would burn and consume him before it faded." The now-ashen-faced Air professor was lowered to the ground and the fire snake vanished. "If my students will follow me, regular classes may resume for the remainder of the afternoon."
Mr. Colbert refused to discuss the pursuit of Fouquet, other than to announce that everyone had survived and no one had been seriously wounded. Then he began his lesson as if nothing had happened.
Louise waited until after class was over to approach the teacher. "Sir?"
"Miss Vallière," the teacher nodded at her. "I'm pleased to see you were able to calm down sufficiently to attend classes."
She flushed. "Jason was only doing his . . . anyway, right now my best magic for combat are my explosions, but I haven't practiced aiming them . . . did Fouquet use his elemental?"
"Miss Vallière, I have good reason to decline discussing the events of this morning." Mr. Colbert's voice was very dry as he responded. "But I'll allow that attempting to close in sufficiently to ensure accuracy would have placed you in unacceptable danger. I'll also allow that between the two of them, Dame Tabitha and Miss Zerbst demonstrated by example the advantages in effectiveness that an experienced warrior has over a novice, no matter how . . . enthusiastic."
Louise nodded seriously, then smirked as she parsed his response and realized the implication. "I don't even know Firebolt, let alone Fireball, but I can at least make an explosion at range. I want to work on my accuracy, since I have years of practice to catch up on."
"Only in comparison to those students who knew their affinity before summoning their familiars," the professor pointed out. "Which, yes, includes Miss Zerbst, so I must admit that you have a point. My usual lesson plan is to suggest long-range practice over the summer as a prelude to further practice during autumn, since by the end of spring everyone is expected to be able to cast Firebolt." He frowned. "Although considering your continued struggles with Ignite . . ."
"I promise I'll continue to practice Ignite," Louise assured him. "But long-range practice is something I can do now."
Mr. Colbert looked unconvinced, and her face grew anxious as the silence stretched on.
"What if she uses Firebolt as her long-range practice spell?" Jason broke in. "Yes, it'll be an explosion, but we're talking about Louise. All of her spells start off as explosions, and she needs intensive practice to correct that. This would be that practice."
Mr. Colbert's unconvinced expression turned thoughtful, and his little mistress's face suddenly looked a lot more hopeful. [Gratitude], she sent.
"I would prefer more progress on Ignite," the professor finally said. "Nonetheless your familiar makes a good point. You will remain in class each day until I finish any lecture I've prepared, and I expect you to practice Ignite for at least a little while afterward, but I will then permit you to use the remainder of each afternoon for Firebolt practice. Now, how would you like to conduct such practice? It's hard enough to avoid excessive damage to my classroom with the more common miscasts by students practicing Firebolt."
"I should probably do it outside, then," Louise replied.
"That is the proposal I would expect of a student who simply wishes to avoid practice by avoiding supervision," Mr. Colbert countered, then held up a hand as both of them opened their mouths to object. "Except that you are known these days for spending every spare moment practicing your cantrips, Miss Vallière. Very well. I'll permit this so long as you don't abuse my trust in your diligence."
She curtsied gratefully.
"So now she just needs something that can stand up to repeated explosions," Jason pointed out.
The professor nodded, looking thoughtful once more. "I believe I can arrange for some targets that should suffice over the upcoming weekend."
That evening there was a knock on their door. An older maid that Jason didn't quite recognize was waiting outside.
"Miss Vallière? I'm here to take your measurements."
Once inside, the woman worked fast, a knotted string practically flying over Louise's body as the woman jotted down symbols that he still couldn't make heads or tails of. We probably ought to learn the local alphabet, but that's not going to be any fun at all. Not until we're fluent, anyway. Maybe not even then, if our translation auxilum doesn't want to cooperate.
"Measurements?" he asked after the woman left. "Are you getting a new dress, little mistress?"
She shook her head. "No, it's to see if my gown has to be adjusted before the ball."
"Ball? What ball?"
"The one for Frigg's day."
Jason raised an eyebrow. "Keep in mind that I'm from far away. When is Frigg's day?"
"In two days, just before the weekend starts. Ugh, Zerbst is going to be intolerable."
"Well, she . . . yeah. She'll be insufferable. Are you sure you want to go?"
"I can't just run away," she said, a bit heatedly. "Especially not from Zerbst! Not again!"
"No, I suppose not," he agreed. "But there are ways around that."
"Like what?"
"Get Mr. Colbert to agree to 'punish' you with an assignment that keeps you busy all evening. I can talk to him privately for you, if you'd like."
Louise frowned.
Jason shrugged. "Or I could even go with you to the ball, keep you company. I've actually got something for formal occasions I could pull out."
She looked thoughtful for a moment, but then shook her head. "The gossip would be that much worse. No, go talk to Mr. Colbert."
"As you wish."
A/N: This Mr. Colbert is post-retcon. Which means he didn't tell a pretty face the best way to rob the Academy. Likewise, the thief came up with a plan of action that didn't rely on Louise accidentally hitting the tower with an armor-shattering attack. In fact, Fouquet did not make any of the silly blunders that were made in canon. And, yes, Fouquet is the same individual as in canon.
New Terms: Nobilia – a local term for magic items. Specifically magic items made with the noble magic of the followers of Brimir.
Dweomer – this isn't a new term, actually. But it's moderately obscure: In Norse mythology it refers to the magic of the dwarves. Since dwarves are, in popular culture, linked with crafting wondrous marvels, I'm using 'dweomer' to mean the supernatural effects of a magic item.
Praestum – plural praesta. Spells that anyone of sufficient strength can learn, even if you don't know the element that the spell is linked to.
Vernaculum – plural vernacula. What would be known in various games as summons. So far types include elemental and construct.
New Spells: Hold Person – previously mentioned, clarified to be praestum of Fire, likely Line in strength.
Sleep – unknown shape, unknown element, presumably puts the target to sleep. Most likely what the dweomer of a delicate repose is patterned after.
Unseen Cage – unknown shape, unknown element, presumably restrains the target.
Earthen Grasp – unknown shape, probably Earth element, presumably restrains the target.
Dispel – praestum, unknown level, unknown element, rather customizable, dismisses magic but for more vis than used to cast the unwanted spell in the first place, unless a version is learned specifically for that spell.