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Authors: Patricia C. Wrede
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listening, just enough so I’d notice if either of them said anything about me. I recognized Professor Graham’s voice when he turned up, and something in it when he and Papa exchanged greetings made me close up my book and pay close attention.
Papa must have heard it, too, because he didn’t waste much time on socializing. “What brings you over, Professor?” he asked as soon as everyone had finished with their hellos.
“There’s been another incursion,” Professor Graham said, sounding grim. “Near Braxton, this time. Ten families, wiped out.”
“Braxton!” Mama gasped. “So close!”
“It’s a good fifty miles west of the river, Sara,” Papa said mildly.
“Yes, and there’s no reason to think the Great Barrier is weakening,” Professor Graham put in hastily. “But the lesser spells the settlements have been using just aren’t up to the job of holding back the wildlife.”
“Not in a year like this one, anyway,” Papa said. “Any word on what it was?”
“An assorted mob,” Professor Graham said. “A herd of mammoths overran the magician’s barrier and trampled the fences. They’d been stampeded by a mixed pack of Columbian sphinxes and saber cats, and there were scavengers following after—jackals and terror birds, from the sound of it. There were only four survivors.”
“Oh, Daniel,” Mama said.
There was a short silence. I thought about what Professor Graham had said. We’d studied the animals of the North Plains Territory in natural history in school. They were divided into two sorts, the ordinary and the magical. The ordinary ones were things like mammoths and dire wolves and saber cats and terror birds, and the magical ones were steam dragons and Columbian sphinxes and spectral bears and swarming weasels, and all of them were deadly dangerous, magical or not. And those were just the plains animals; there were other things just as bad in the northern forests, and no Great Barrier magic to keep them off, either. It was suicide to go west of the Mammoth River, or north of its headwaters, without a magician to keep you safe; everybody knew that. But it hadn’t occurred to me until right then that you could have a magician and still not be safe.
“Thank you for telling us,” Papa said.
“Don’t thank me until you’ve heard it all,” the professor warned. “The new head of the Settlement Office is disturbed by all these recent incidents. They’ve requested that the college send you, me, and Jeffries out to study the settlements, with a view to improving their magical protections.”
“And?” Papa said.
“And that damn fool thinks we should bring along the seventh son of a seventh son,” Professor Graham said.
“What?” Papa sounded outraged.
“No.” Mama’s voice was quiet and very firm. When she spoke like that, you knew that there was no point in arguing.
“Sara, we may not have a choice,” Papa said reluctantly. “This is a land-grant college. The Homestead and Settlement Office has the right to request our assistance; that was part of the agreement.”
“No,” Mama repeated. “Lan is not an employee of this college, nor of the Settlement Office, nor of anyone else in Mill City. He’s a ten-year-old boy.” There was a rustling sound, and then footsteps against the porch floorboards. “I’d appreciate it if you’d take me into town right now, Daniel. I will not have my son pushed into matters far beyond his age and understanding, and I intend to make that very clear to the officials of the North Plains Territory Homestead Claim and Settlement Office.”
“I told them that,” Professor Graham said. “They won’t listen.”
“They will listen to me,” Mama said. She sounded perfectly composed and angry as anything, both at the same time. “Because if they do not, Lan and I will be on the next train east. Living here has been very good for him. I’m not having all the good undone because the settlement board is panicking.”
“You
Papa must have heard it, too, because he didn’t waste much time on socializing. “What brings you over, Professor?” he asked as soon as everyone had finished with their hellos.
“There’s been another incursion,” Professor Graham said, sounding grim. “Near Braxton, this time. Ten families, wiped out.”
“Braxton!” Mama gasped. “So close!”
“It’s a good fifty miles west of the river, Sara,” Papa said mildly.
“Yes, and there’s no reason to think the Great Barrier is weakening,” Professor Graham put in hastily. “But the lesser spells the settlements have been using just aren’t up to the job of holding back the wildlife.”
“Not in a year like this one, anyway,” Papa said. “Any word on what it was?”
“An assorted mob,” Professor Graham said. “A herd of mammoths overran the magician’s barrier and trampled the fences. They’d been stampeded by a mixed pack of Columbian sphinxes and saber cats, and there were scavengers following after—jackals and terror birds, from the sound of it. There were only four survivors.”
“Oh, Daniel,” Mama said.
There was a short silence. I thought about what Professor Graham had said. We’d studied the animals of the North Plains Territory in natural history in school. They were divided into two sorts, the ordinary and the magical. The ordinary ones were things like mammoths and dire wolves and saber cats and terror birds, and the magical ones were steam dragons and Columbian sphinxes and spectral bears and swarming weasels, and all of them were deadly dangerous, magical or not. And those were just the plains animals; there were other things just as bad in the northern forests, and no Great Barrier magic to keep them off, either. It was suicide to go west of the Mammoth River, or north of its headwaters, without a magician to keep you safe; everybody knew that. But it hadn’t occurred to me until right then that you could have a magician and still not be safe.
“Thank you for telling us,” Papa said.
“Don’t thank me until you’ve heard it all,” the professor warned. “The new head of the Settlement Office is disturbed by all these recent incidents. They’ve requested that the college send you, me, and Jeffries out to study the settlements, with a view to improving their magical protections.”
“And?” Papa said.
“And that damn fool thinks we should bring along the seventh son of a seventh son,” Professor Graham said.
“What?” Papa sounded outraged.
“No.” Mama’s voice was quiet and very firm. When she spoke like that, you knew that there was no point in arguing.
“Sara, we may not have a choice,” Papa said reluctantly. “This is a land-grant college. The Homestead and Settlement Office has the right to request our assistance; that was part of the agreement.”
“No,” Mama repeated. “Lan is not an employee of this college, nor of the Settlement Office, nor of anyone else in Mill City. He’s a ten-year-old boy.” There was a rustling sound, and then footsteps against the porch floorboards. “I’d appreciate it if you’d take me into town right now, Daniel. I will not have my son pushed into matters far beyond his age and understanding, and I intend to make that very clear to the officials of the North Plains Territory Homestead Claim and Settlement Office.”
“I told them that,” Professor Graham said. “They won’t listen.”
“They will listen to me,” Mama said. She sounded perfectly composed and angry as anything, both at the same time. “Because if they do not, Lan and I will be on the next train east. Living here has been very good for him. I’m not having all the good undone because the settlement board is panicking.”
“You
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