2 The Art of Transmutation

As I walked, I shifted my payload from one hand to the other in an effort to dissipate the pain. It wouldn't have been so heavy and hard to handle if the rats would just stay still, but their constant running about kept shifting the center of gravity of the wire cage, causing me all sorts of grief.

"Oh shut up. It's not that bad," I chided at them. They chattered back and stared at me with their beady little eyes--the little ingrates!

I ignored them and made my way to the classroom at the end of Eucalyptus Alley. I needed to dump these little rascals off to the summer cram class that ordered them.

The cramped alleyway was stifling. What little breeze I had been able to enjoy out in the open areas of the Main Courtyard was completely gone. Since it was high noon, even though I was surrounded by buildings, there was little shade to speak of.

I was still trudging through the dusty alleyway, trying to ignore a trickling drop of sweat running down the side of my face when suddenly, from behind, I heard loud hoots of raucous laughter.

Craning my neck, I caught sight of two guys with shoulder-length red hair, wearing black bodysuits and obnoxious green high-tops, swooping up the walkway. They were windsurfing on a gust of hot air at breakneck speed, oblivious of anything or anyone around them.

"Hurry dude, we're late!" One of them yelled out.

"Watch out!" The other one screamed as he saw me.

I never even had a chance to move out of their flight path. Their two jet-black hover boards took up most of the roadway and they were coming straight at me.

With no time to think, I threw myself up against the building flanking the alleyway. My arms were outstretched and my head was thrown back. I tried to flatten myself as much as I could.

"Ooomph!" I felt my teeth clatter as my back hit the stucco side of the building, knocking the wind out of me. I muttered as many profane curses as I could recall. They were scant and not as profane as I'd like them to be, but the act itself did help my sense of outrage and righteousness.

It did nothing to alleviate a hot bloom of pain exploding as the cage I was clutching banged into the wall, crushing my hand in the process.

"Sorry, Inanna!" I heard one of the guys yelling back at me as they whooshed up the hill and out of sight.

Damn Osiris twins.

My heart thumped a responding syncopated staccato, threatening to jump out of my rib cage in protest. My stomach quivered with its blast of unrequited adrenaline.

At least I had been successful in keeping the guys from knocking my knees out of their sockets.

I waited until my poor heart had recovered from its rapid palpitations before regaining my balance. Then, I checked to make sure my temporary charges were safe and my messenger bag was still intact before I set off once again.

Thank heavens the wire cage that held the two white rats were undamaged and the critters looked no worse for the wear. They eyed me with misgivings as they clutched onto their cage bars, chattering and squeaking at the abuse they had received from my rough handling.

"I'm so sorry, little guys. Really sorry," I muttered, and steeled myself for the remaining two-block scramble up Eucalyptus Alley. My bloodied fingers clawed tight onto the cage handle as I trudged up the alley with as much dignity as I could muster.

Damn these powerful mages with their lack of understanding for those who were of the debilitated kind. As if it wasn't hard enough having to hoof it up a steep incline with no magikal assistance, I also had to dodge speeding air riders as well.

In truth, I couldn't blame the guys completely. Any mage worth her salt would have been able to cast a quick spell of protection around herself as soon as she realized the wind-surfers were coming up the alley. The guys would have hit the protection shield and bounced off without doing much damage to themselves or said mage.

With no such ability to call forth, I was an accident waiting to happen.

The twins were probably late to class again. I spared a few moments feeling a bit sorry for them, but time was ticking away, and I had work to do.

With a final heave-ho, I struggled the last few yards and finally made it to the doorway marked with the symbol for Transmutation.

The symbol, with its circle within a triangle within a circle, had always fascinated me, as did transmutation itself. Unfortunately, since Transmutation was a class that was offered only to the Alchemy students, I had never had the chance to sit in on one of its classes.

From the sounds reverberating out onto the alley, class was in full swing. I reached for the knob and pushed at the door.

It swung inward with a slight creak.

Professor Pomello, the Transmutation teacher, was standing to the far side of the classroom giving a lecture. She wore a yellow-orange sheath dress printed with huge red hibiscus blooms that match the exact shade of her scarlet lipstick.

On her face was a huge pair of black-rimmed glasses which perched atop her long nose, right at the crook where a natural bony ridge had formed for the express purpose of holding said glasses.

She caught my eyes and nodded in acknowledgement, her blonde beehive quivering with unintended comical effect.

I grinned. The Professor always looked to me as if she were out of place and out of time.

I made my way towards the front of the room and placed the cage and my messenger bag onto an empty desk, then I looked around.

The classroom was barely half-full with bored, listless ten-year-olds.

The little blonde cherubic girl near the open window was staring out with a wistful look at the cerulean sky beyond reach, her white-gold ringlets stirring with the gentle breeze blowing in from the hillside beyond the classroom.

A couple of boys sporting the latest long-hair craze, sat behind her. They were staring at their crotches and smiling, the classic tell-tale sign of rampant class-texting.

Of the few that were half-heartedly trying to transmute something, only one girl was making a serious attempt.

She had strawberry-blonde pigtails, big green eyes, and a smattering of freckles across her small button nose. At the moment, she was standing ill-at-ease and fidgety, at the lab table in front of the classroom.

Before her was what looked like an empty glass beaker. I wasn't sure if she was suppose to turn the beaker into something, or if something had just turned into a beaker.

I didn't really want to find out either because in most cases, when young mages try to undo a transmutation involving live subjects, quite often the resulting subject never came back together quite right and always ended up looking rather gross.

"Good morning Inanna!" Professor Pomello smiled. "What perfect timing for Lauren's next transmutation exercise. Bring the subjects to the front table," she indicated towards the front.

I nodded and reached into the cage to pull out the rats.

Big mistake.

My right hand, injured by the wind-surfing incident, had begun to bleed in earnest. The rats caught a whiff of fresh blood and became enraged, dashing about the cage, hissing with fevered excitement.

I panicked and pulled back my hand, leaving a gaping hole large enough for the rats to escape.

In the blink of an eye, the two white rats had rushed through the opening, jumped off the table, and scurried across the room.

The kids came alive, hollering and hooting at the scampering rodents.

One rat jumped onto the lab table at the front of the classroom and raced about, scattering papers up into the air.

The other one darted across the floor, running over people's feet, causing a fervor and screams of fright.

Someone knocked over a stack of books in a panic. There was a tinkling of glass.

Chairs overturned. More glass breaking.

Screams of fright.

"BE STILL!" Professor Pomello's voice boomed.

Instantly, everything and everyone froze as if a motion picture had stopped at a designated point in the action. In that split second after Professor Pomello uttered the Be Still Command, I froze as well.

The scene was surreal. Time itself seemed suspended.

I saw a drop of my own blood arching as it fell away from my finger, heading towards the white fur of the rat that was suspended from the floor. The drop remained motionless in mid-flight.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw Professor Pomello making her way around the tangle of limbs and not quite falling objects.

She picked up the white rats from where they were held aloft by seemingly nothing and shoved them back into their cage. Then she slid her glasses back onto her nose as she went about the room, straightening the desks, the chairs, the wands, a vase of water (the water as still as an icicle in mid-air), the spell books, and even Jimmy's tie.

Then she levitated all the shards of the shattered florence flask and deposited them into the trash bin near the doorway.

The broken glass beaker at the front of the room received more gentle ministration. Professor Pomello repaired it with a little bit of bonding thaumaturgic magik, and then she transmuted it to its original form.

With a puff of smoke, the beaker turned back into a crow.

The crow squawked and flapped one of its wings, the other dangling useless at its side.

With another healing Command, the Professor repaired its broken wing and it took to the air, escaping out the open window.

Once falling objects were no longer a threat to the students, Professor Pomello snapped her fingers.

Instantly, the roar of the suspended sound waves rushed back into play. Movements suspended in time suddenly released to shift and swing and fall where they may.

The drop of blood that would have hit the white rat below, arched in a glorious glistening red globule and splat on the floor, the rat no longer in its immediate trajectory.

Scattered screaming ten-year-olds resumed their movements.

Amidst the cacophony, the Professor stood, calm as a cucumber, and waited for everything to abate. Then she made the students return to their seats.

"You," she said in my direction. "Gather your bag and come with me."

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