“Nevery,” I asked. “What is a locus magicalicus, exactly?”
Nevery looked up from his book. “A magical stone, boy. You know that well enough.”
I did know it. I brought my own leaf-green locus stone out of my pocket and looked closely at it. “But where does it come from?”
Nevery pulled on the end of his beard. “Hmmm. It’s not a bad question.” He stood and fetched down three fat books from the shelf. “Read chapter five of this one.” He thunked one book onto the table, raising a little cloud of dust. “And the first three chapters of these.” Thunk, thunk. “That will answer your question.” He picked up his knob-headed cane and put on his cloak. “Now, I’m going to the academicos library for some peace and quiet. While I’m gone, you can mop the kitchen floor, chop a load of firewood, and fill the cauldron in the upstairs workroom with water.” He pointed at my locus magicalicus. “And don’t do any magic.” He shot me one of his keen-gleam looks. “Understand?”
I nodded.
“Good.” Jamming his wide-brimmed hat onto his head, he swept-stepped out of the study, down the narrow stairs, and out of Heartsease.
I looked at the pile of books. How could I read all of that if I had to mop floors, chop wood, and lug water all the way up to the workroom? Anyway, those chores were work for a servant, not a wizard’s apprentice!
Hmmm.
On the table was Nevery’s grimoire--his spell book. And he’d left it unlocked.
The grimoire made a crackly-cracking sound when I opened it. I turned the pages until I found what I was looking for. Implement Enchantment: A Directive Spell.
Nevery’d told me not to do magic. But if I was going to get any reading done, the magic would have to do the chores.
I ran down and fetched the bucket and the broom from the kitchen. The broom was mouse chewed and moldy and had a polished wooden handle with a knobby knot in the middle like a knee-joint. After setting down the bucket by the door, I laid the broom on the floor and held up my locus magicalicus; then I shouted out the spell from Nevery’s grimoire.
The words echoed around the room. Then silence. In my hand, my locus magicalicus twitched, tingled, and a sizzling ball of green sparks leaped from the stone and fell in a shower over the broom.
I blinked the brights from my eyes. The broom shivered. Then, with a fizzing sound, it lifted from the floor and stood before me. Bending at its knobby joint, it bowed.
Right. I bowed back. I pointed at the bucket by the door. “Broom,” I ordered. “Fetch water from the well outside and put it in the cauldron upstairs.”
The broom bowed again. The air around it fizzing, it flipped onto its end and hopped over to the bucket and, using the sweeping end like a hand, picked it up and hopped out the door. I followed it down the steep steps and out into the courtyard. The broom bounced up to the well and leaped in, then popped out a moment later with the bucket brim-ful of water.
Hop, hop, hop, up the stairs it went, up to the fourth floor, where it dumped the bucket of water into the cauldron. Good.
Next, the wood. I crossed the courtyard to a pile of logs taller than I was, more than I could chop in a week. An axe was stuck into one of the logs; I wrenched it out and lay it on the ground and did the thing with the magic spell and my locus magicalicus. Just like the broom, the axe shivered alive and stood before me, waiting for its orders. “Well, axe,” I said. “Go and chop up that pile of logs.” The axe flew to the first log and whirled around, chop-chop-chopping, sending woodchips flying.
Now the kitchen floor. I went up to the cobwebby kitchen and found the mop. Did the spell. “Mop,” I ordered when it stood before me. “Mop the floor.”
I’d forgotten about water. The mop swished out the kitchen door and collided with the broom, which was hopping up the stairs with a full bucket of water. The mop leaped on the broom and tried to wrestle the bucket away from it. The bucket went clattering across the kitchen floor splashing water everywhere, over the floor and the walls and onto me. The broom and the mop went after it.
“Stop!” I shouted. They both froze. “Mop,” I said, pointing my locus stone at it. “Don’t fight with broom. And you, broom, go and fetch water for mop.” The broom bowed and picked up the bucket and hopped from the kitchen. The mop flipped its mop-side down and danced across the floor, mopping up the spilled water.
Leaving them to their work, I went back up to Nevery’s study to read the chapters in the fat books.
It was very interesting. One of the books said that locus magicalicus stones reflected the nature of the wizards that bore them. An evil wizard’s locus stone ended up full of holes, its substance eaten away by dark magics. And a weak wizard had a cracked stone that might dissolve into dust at any moment. Nevery’s stone, I remembered, was black as night and hard and extremely dangerous. I wondered what my own locus magicalicus said about me.
After a while, I leaned back in my chair and stretched, and decided to go check on axe, broom, and mop. Putting my locus magicalicus in my pocket, I went out of the study.
A river was pouring down the stairs, making each step a little waterfall. I turned and saw broom, hopping down with the bucket. I splashed down the stairs after it.
When I got to the kitchen, I stopped in the doorway. Oh no. Nevery was going to be furious. He was going take away my locus magicalicus and tell me I wasn’t a proper apprentice after all.
The kitchen was flooded. As I stood in the doorway, broom pushed past me and flung a bucketful of water onto the floor. Mop twirled through the ankle-deep water, over the floor, up the wall, and across the ceiling, which dripped. Broom hopped past me out to the stairs. “Stop!” I shouted, but it ignored me.
I chased it out to the courtyard and saw it disappear into the well. A moment later, it hopped out again, with another bucket full of water. From across the courtyard came the sound of chop-chop-chopping. I turned and saw axe, chopping away at the very last log; behind it was a mound of woodchips.
Oh, was I ever going to be in trouble. Taking my locus magicalicus out of my pocket, I held it over my head and shouted, as loud as I could, “STOP!!”
Axe paused in its chopping and whirled over to me. “Come on,” I said, and it followed me as I headed into Heartsease and up to the kitchen.
“Stop!” I said to mop, which was sloshing water around in the fireplace. Mop stopped and skated across the wet floor to me.
I heard broom coming down the stairs. As it passed the kitchen door, I said, “Stop, broom.” It hopped into the room, set down the bucket, and bowed.
Mop, broom, and axe lined up before me, waiting for orders. “Come on,” I said, and led them upstairs to the study.
They stood waiting while I looked through Nevery’s grimoire. Nothing about how to stop the implemental enchantment spell. Drats. I couldn’t unmagick them.
All right. I’d have to keep an eye on them, or they’d get into trouble. I held up my locus magicalicus. “Mop. Broom. Axe,” I said. I pointed at the corner. “Go stand in the corner.”
Broom bowed and the other two followed it into the corner. Mop jostled broom.
“Keep still,” I said. They leaned against the wall.
I sat down at the table with the three books. I had a lot of pages to read before Nevery got home.
Much later, he came in.
I sat quietly in my chair.
Nevery took off his hat and cloak and set down his cane. “Well, boy?” he said. “There is a large pile of woodchips in the courtyard. Got a little carried away with the chopping, did you?”
I shrugged. I had, sort of.
“And the kitchen,” Nevery said. “It is extremely clean. The ceiling has even been mopped.”
I nodded.
“And I expect the cauldron upstairs has been filled to the brim with water?”
Yes. Not by me, but yes, it had been filled.
Nevery glanced at the corner, where mop, broom, and axe stood. Broom twitched, shedding a few green sparks onto the floor. He raised his eyebrows. “Have you finished reading about locus magicalicus stones?”
“Almost,” I said.
Everything was quiet for a moment. Except for broom, mop, and axe jostling each other in the corner. I shot them a look, and they stilled.
“Hmmm,” Nevery said. “Well, what do you think, boy?”
I gulped. “I suppose you’re going to tell me I’m in trouble,” I said.
“Indeed I am not,” Nevery said. “You’re not a servant, you’ve proved that well enough. No, since you passed this test, I am giving you another assignment.” He pointed toward mop, broom, and axe. “Figure out how to take the enchantment off.” He thunked down his grimoire before me on the table. “Even if you have to stay up all night to do it.”
All right! Now that was a job for a wizard’s apprentice.
THE END