Scout asked, “What stick?”
Viera shot Betsy a look, but she nodded. “If you’re going to be carrying it around, people will find out anyway.”
“Gandalf’s old walking stick.”
Scout’s jaw dropped before he swung his hands out in disbelief. His left hand flew over the table and knocked over her coffee—her salvation, her ambrosia. It flew at Tiffany, scalding hot coffee hitting her in the chin and arm.
Her eyes widened, just as Viera yelped, “No!” Both hands up in a double stop sign position, as if that would stop anything.
Oh my God, I have to fix this. The poor girl is going to get a burn, maybe even blister. She’s had a hard enough life; she doesn’t need that. Viera faced Betsy, “What do we do?”
It suddenly sunk in, all the sounds from the room had stopped. No one moved, nothing shifted, it didn’t look like anyone breathed. The coffee had just reached its target, the red of the burn barely beginning.
What the hell? Did I stop time? Looking around the room, everything … everyone looked like statues. How long can I hold this?
Viera stood, slowly circling the table. She wanted to move Tiffany away from the coffee, but the damage was done. God above, if I can stop time, why can’t I do more? She closed her eyes and thought as hard as she could—undo undo undo undo!
When she opened her eyes, everything in the room looked exactly the same. What the fuck is the point of stopping time if I can’t fix this? Is there a way to undo this damage?
Her path around the table ended at Betsy. “Why can’t you help me? Why are you frozen in time, too? You’re my helper, you need to help me!” She knew she sounded frantic, eyes moist with unshed tears, but she didn’t know what she was doing.
Viera swung her hands out in desperation. “I need help!”
Gandalf’s walking stick appeared in her right hand. Her jaw dropped open. “What the fuck are you doing here? Are you going to help me? Do you have some sort of solution?”
The stick pulsated in her hand.
She snarled. “That isn’t an answer.”
Knowing she was being unreasonable, she clutched the walking stick and shut her eyes. She had to figure this out. Why can’t I reverse time if I can stop it?
Her mind slowly stopped spiraling, the pounding in her chest slowed, and it almost felt like a cool breeze ruffled her short hair. Viera finally took a slow, deep, breath. Like walking a path in the woods, her mind found a rhythm, and slowly, the patterns appeared. The walking stick warmed.
When she was young, her grandmother taught her to knit. She wasn’t good, and she only had the patience for small things, like hats or scarves. Sometimes, in the middle of a row, something wouldn’t look right; her grandmother told her to pull the yarn, undo the stitches, and respool the yarn in the skein.
Viera imagined doing that with the conversation and coffee. She only needed to pull a few stitches—moments—until the coffee was all back in the mug. Her mind replayed the coffee mug being hit, and Scout’s dramatic reaction. Once she knew what she wanted, Viera released her magic and nearly fell to the floor.
The cacophony of sound hit her, then arms grabbed her, leading her to the table. “You need to eat. After that, we need to visit Flower Prancer to discuss what just happened.” Betsy sounded concerned.
“Ms. Kor, how did you get all the way over there?” Scout looked and sounded dumbfounded. “And what are you holding?”
Viera searched out Tiffany, and her mug of coffee. It was where she’d placed it originally, standing proud, unharmed by Scout. She searched Tiffany’s face, but there was no red burn, no hint of being splashed with the scalding hot drink. No indication of the incident.
With trembling hands, she picked up her mug and clutched it in both hands. “Scout, will you get me another mug of coffee? I really need it this morning.” She finished what was in her mug in a single gulp.
From across the table, Juniper’s eyes narrowed. “Get her more food, too. I think she’ll need the calories.” Juniper turned to Betsy. “Magic takes extra food, right?”
Betsy smiled at the other woman. “Exactly so.”
Viera started eating her first breakfast. She was feeling more and more like a hobbit. First breakfast, then she’d have second. Maybe third would be on the schedule. “Betsy, if I’m visiting Flower Prancer, should I have another soak first?”
Her friend smiled a bit evilly. “Probably not a bad idea.”
Chapter 10 - If I Could Turn Back Time
Viera
The trip to Torville Station Number Six wasn’t long. Viera had hoped she could avoid the training rooms, and Flower Prancer in general, for the few days it took to fly to the space station. She figured once they got there she could avoid the yonat because he’d be busy, and she’d be way beneath his notice.
She sat in the training room with Betsy. The pencil on the table was still the only decoration. The wall that could become a mirror was back to being just a wall. “Did you know the wall could become a mirror?” Viera asked her friend.
Betsy considered it. “I didn’t. I’ve never been down here, but it doesn’t surprise me. It’s a training room. These rooms are usually pretty flexible. They can meet the needs of trainers and trainees. That wall is probably a supersized panel ready to do anyone’s bidding.”
Viera deflated. “Last time I was here, Flower Prancer sent me off to get coffee and water. He was just getting rid of me for a bit, wasn’t he? That panel could’ve created anything he needed.”
A soft chuckle was her only answer.
The door opened, and the yonat himself walked in. It amused Viera how much Flower Prancer looked like a kid's dream of a unicorn: pure white with a sparkling golden horn. His hair was a perfect rainbow, and when he wasn’t gazing at her in pure disapproval, his violet eyes could be considered pretty.
His tail swished and his ire preceded him into the room. Viera could sense emotions. Kids' emotions were simple and pure, and easy to ignore. Betsy, and the other Pillars, knew how to block what they felt. Betsy had taught her skill to Thorn. Flower Prancer, for all his arrogant Elder knowledge, either didn’t know how, or didn’t care. His emotions filled a space as if he stood on a hill, heralding his feelings for all to hear.
From the day the krottel had attacked Viera and opened up her magic, Flower Prancer had insisted on being her trainer. Despite his insistence, he acted as if it were a hardship. There were five wizards on Earth who were more than happy to help Viera learn, but he wouldn’t hear any of it. It was like he felt guilty that she’d been kidnapped while on a station during a summit being hosted by the Elders, and his penance was teaching her.
His magical specialties didn’t all match up with hers. He didn’t have sensing, even though that was one of the most common non-elemental magic types. Despite being common throughout the galaxy, Zuza was the only other Earthing who had it. He’d taken to helping her learn to harness the wild third specialty the krottel had bequeathed her. Though Viera had sensing as a magic proficiency, after discussing it with Flower Prancer and the other Pillars, they’d figured it came from the krottel when they’d pushed magic into her. It wasn’t naturally hers, which is why her sensing magic was so hard to control. Zuzu was doing a great job helping her to learn.
Viera’s natural proficiencies were energy and time, both magic types that Flower Prancer shared. Time was almost unheard of as a non-elemental magic, so rare that Viera should be grateful for having the moody yonat as a teacher. The only type less common was imbuement, and most believed that only the dwarves had that, and there were very few of them still around.
Everyone could learn a bit of any of the specialties, but a true master had to have it naturally.
