Here I am, the ideal student, sitting at my easel, treating the scroll before me like the priests’ holy wine. I’m in my second year of magic school. I’m studying a levitation spell, nibbling away on a mecca root when ol’ Stop-and-Go Pordal struts in.
“Shantell, your turn to take out the trash.”
Then he strides off before I can say anything. He’s been giving me the dirtiest jobs ever since I caught him spying in the girls’ quarters. I had just learned how to stun and froze him in position by the window for all to see.
Some of the sorceresses started calling him Peekee after that. I still call him Stop-and Go. It fits better.
The masters assigned him kitchen duty for a full moon for his punishment.
He hasn’t forgiven me since.
He thinks I’m nothing but a chambermaid because I’m only a second-level sorceress. Until I claim my wizard sense, I’m treated like one. So what could I do? I wish I could find some kind of personal project to keep me busy.
Emptying the trash wouldn’t be so bad if it was just the scrap spells from the more experienced trainees. But no, they also have to dump the first yearlings’ rejects in as well. Have you ever smelled a half-conjured demon fermented for over a week?
No wonder so many of the masters’ beards are white. The Psi nets are never strong enough. They’re always leaking or losing something along the way to the vac pit.
I walk into the room, and just as I expected, the bag’s filled to overflowing. The area is a mess. There are demons, zaps, fireballs, whammies, giants, dragons, potions, and Hades knows what else. Most are spells that never came into full realization. There’s a monstrous tentacle weaving itself lazily above the rim of the net. Its acting like it’s already high from the demons’ fumes. After taking one whiff myself, I’m sure of it.
Why me?
Nothing to do but throw the lot of them in the vacuum pit. The tricky part is getting the thing to the pit, especially with weak Psi nets.
Because of Stop and Go’s harassment, I’m now an old pro. Too many incidents from other apprentices’ trips to the vac have taught me to take precautions. I step up to the net, keeping my skirt hem clear of possible entanglements. It’s taller than me and almost reaches the high ceiling. A good reduction spell should cut the thing down to size. So, I cast the spell and watch as the occupants shrink to the size of a chair.
The thing keeps moving since some of the spells within it haven’t fully deactivated.
I bend over the bag and quickly lean back to let one particularly powerful wisp of odor pass. Hades, it’s strong. Whammies and zaps almost spill out of the bag, some barely hanging over the edge. When I begin to close the top, several fall out. They immediately activate, stinging and singeing my feet. My resulting list of obscenities would impress a warlock. They’re all centered on Pordal. Thankfully most of the zaps fall back into the bag when I shake the net.
Zaps and whammies, in their solid state, look much like frozen lightning bolts. They always seem to find a way to poke you in the ribs. I seal the bag with an echo patch—the most powerful sealing spell I know.
Seeing how the potions and powders seem to always settle at the bottom, I try to put as much echo underneath the bag. Feeling reasonably protected, I touch the net’s surface, probing with my fingers. Every kind of spell seems to be in there. Yep, they must have gone through a full session of Wizardry 101 to get all these rejects. It takes me only a minute to find what I’m searching for.
He’s a big one, and only partially deflated.
A Giant.
Why can’t everyone deflate their Giants fully before throwing them away? A Giant is eighty percent air. If you have a deflated Giant in the trash, it can help you with the lifting. All you have to do is give it a gentle tap on the head—-just enough to aggravate it so it’ll puff up. When the Giant rises, then, the entire bag will rise, too. Makes it easier to carry the thing outside.
Of course, you have to watch that you don’t hit them too hard. Heard a story once where a first yearling was taking out the trash. Made the mistake of giving the Giants a royal whack and it got ’em mad. Puffed ’em up all the way—-all of them. Got the rest of the spells activated too. The yearling soon found himself floating up in the air, hanging onto that bag for dear life. He was yelling at the top of his lungs.
What a sight!
The Giants were having a grand old fight up there.
Thankfully, a couple of apprentices were also archers. Got their bows out and started shooting. Said it was great to have a moving target like that. ‘Course the bag came down, and the yearling came down and got tangled in the tree.
It took a week for the school to clean up and catch all the mess. Made a school project of it.
So anyway I lift the bag. Can’t levitate it. You can only levitate stationary objects. The dragons inside keep shifting from side to side as if they’re sitting on a hot pile of gold. It’s hard getting a firm hold on the net. The Psi shield is already wearing thin in some areas, especially at the bottom. I would try to add another echo patch, but I have to see what I’m doing and the bag’s in my way. Hades, I remember what happened the last time a bag broke open.
There was a student once who took out the trash without trying to patch up any leaks. There was an unusual amount of love potion at the bottom. He went almost the entire length of the path before he got a whiff. Then it was too late. He went under. It was love at first sight. A guy looks kind of silly kissing the ground like that. Took the Masters a while to get him under control. They repaved the path. Got rid of the soil by putting it under the mattress of a man who complained of insomnia. He loves to sleep now.
Keeping the bag in my arms isn’t a problem yet, even though Giants and monsters can complicate things if they are too close together. If they start fighting they’ll wake the dragons, and you’ll end up weaving all over the place trying to get to the vac pit.
Oh, no! A cool dampness presses from inside the bag, kinda soggy and mushy. It’s beginning to seep through onto my arm. My heartbeat quickens. If it’s a fireball I’m in trouble. Improperly deactivated fireballs turn into a cold liquid which acts as a powerful adhesive. It took the masters several days to separate a student’s leg from the Psi net when some fire juice leaked onto her.
Not knowing what’s the most dignified way to panic, I slowly move my hand away from the wet spot.
“Ribbit.”
Oh, Hades!
I contemplate fainting from relief, but the trash is in the way. I’ll faint later. I probe the bag’s surface, recognizing the outline of a frog—-several frogs. There must be a mini-course on witchcraft going on at the school.
Maybe there’s something to my classmates’ increasing complaints about warts. Though they shouldn’t leap to conclusions.
I start up the path in a reasonably straight line (dragons permitting) when I hear something.
A voice?
What now?
It comes from the trash bag. Clutching the container against me, I place my ear next to the bag. It’s a voice and he is quoting—-
Philosophy?
Well, this little frog is still trying to turn into a prince. It would seem that the mind was willing but the body—-it wouldn’t make it. Guess it’s trying to find a good role model.
I press on, ignoring the frog as he proclaims: “There were two peasants walking down a street. . ..
A dragon hiccups and shifts and I lunge to the right, trying to keep my balance. I’m getting annoyed.
Not too much farther to go. I try to hurry but then, just as I’m on the verge of reaching the vac pit—
The Giant lets out a burp and down goes the bag.
That thing’s heavy when you have to rely on your own strength. With the Giant’s levitating air gone, mass returns, and I almost gag when the Psi net tears as it hits the ground. I hear protests from the dragons and another Giant wakes up, along with two more monsters. I don’t take time to see what kind. The contents of the bag begin attacking one another.
The rip in the net widens. If anything gets even partially outside the net, it’ll return to normal size. Then the real trouble will begin.
The bag moves of its own accord. I hear the outcries of several monsters and Giants as they wallow at the bottom. A dragon bellows. The escalating battle shakes the entire bag. It starts to lean.
Hades!
I pray for a miracle.
Nothing happens. Panic appears to be the only alternative. If I try to touch the bag, I’m certain the netting will totally dissolve.
If I can convince the monsters and Giants that they’re being challenged by something fiercer then them—
I levitate; a wind is tugging at my hair. I’m glad I braided it, or it’d be impossible to see staring down at potions. Floating to the center of the pit, I bellow at the bag, imitating the occupants’ various calls. But my verbal challenge can hardly be heard over the din.
I strain my voice to its full capacity, lowering it to sound more fierce.
The bag turns, moving toward me, closer and closer until—-
Down it goes, into the vac.
What a relief.
I float carefully back to the edge, glad to stand on firm earth again. There is a silvery liquid shining on the edge of the hole. I’ll avoid that. Then realization dawns. I’ve finally found something to do with my spare time until I acquire my wizard sense. I can work on something that could make me rich and famous!
I’ll create a double-ply Psi net with an echo in between trash bags. That could hold nearly anything, guaranteed never to leak. The apprentices would certainly be Glad—-so would my money pouch.
With a new purpose, I start back to the study room.
I now have some spell casting to do.
