Chapter 9 The Lab and the Rock #2
Nina arched a brow. “I cannot neither confirm nor deny. Besides, we aren’t supposed to know the identities of Advisors’ clients.
But it’s possible . . . people come to us to ask which markets to invest in, whether or not to start an affair, if sending weapons overseas would create more unrest or forge a strategic alliance. ”
“It sounds a lot like what I did as a Tarot reader. Minus the war,” I said without thinking too much of it. I immediately regretted it.
“You were a professional reader? That’s . . . uncommon. None of us have made any money with our peculiar sets of interests. I’ve tried to sell a bit of my taxidermy, but it’s not a huge market, as you can imagine.” She shrugged. “You’ll certainly be up for Advisor when you graduate.”
“What are you working on right now?” I asked, changing the subject. I didn’t want to reveal that I wasn’t planning on sticking around long enough to graduate, let alone to be hired as the magick industry-equivalent of a Tarot reader.
“Let me show you. The lab is this way.” I followed Nina out of the sitting room and down the main hallway. She unfastened a key from her necklace and twisted it into the keyhole of an unassuming door. It opened to a staircase leading down to what looked like the basement level.
“Lab access is only for second years and above. But since you asked about my work . . . I’ll give you a tour.” She winked before she started down the dark staircase, her form completely disappearing halfway down. “Well, what are you waiting for?” Her voice echoed from below.
“Coming.” I took a deep breath and walked down into the darkness.
Seconds later, the room became illuminated by fluorescent lights, revealing a pristine laboratory with black marble countertops. It reminded me of my father’s forensic lab but was several times larger. Mason jars of all sizes filled the shelves, along with browning textbooks and empty glassware.
“Welcome to Foresyth lab,” Nina cooed. The bounce in her step told me she was fond of this place, perhaps even more than the library. I was equally torn over which I found more impressive.
“Everything at Foresyth is so . . . grand,” I remarked, noting the rows of benchtops. There were nearly a dozen; each student could have two of their own.
“Foresyth used to have more students. Before it was a Conservatory, it was a college. There were dozens of students here, apparently.”
“What happened? I mean, to make it smaller?”
Nina fell silent for a moment, and I read the pause for what it was—a quiet withholding. Whatever she said next would be a version of the truth, not its entirety.
“The school was grander once, if we’re borrowing your word,” she said at last, her voice measured. “But those days have faded. Keeping Foresyth alive now is . . . a political endeavor, as much as an academic one—or so I’m told.”
“Interesting.” The word slipped out before I could temper it. Did that mean the Meister had adversaries—perhaps even among the Council—quietly tugging at the threads of his authority? He had mentioned he’d been elected, after all. That implied politics. And politics implied opposition.
I rounded the corner to the next benchtop, and a bulbous bird with two black eyes startled me backward. The creature was a mosaic of orange and red feathers but was missing feet.
“You’ve found Ashes. Just a Resurrection pheasant I’ve been working on. Took ages to ship from China, and the customs paperwork was a nightmare. I think he’s coming along nicely; just need to mount him onto something sturdy.” She scratched underneath his chin affectionately.
“What is that smell?” I covered my nose.
“That’s the brine bath I was working on,” Nina cut across the lab space, and I followed her down the aisle. It became apparent that she was the only one using the lab, as I looked around, seeing stuffed birds, foxes, rabbits, and squirrels.
“That’s Beatrice.” I approached the aluminum bath slowly, pinching my nose as the stench of formaldehyde grew stronger. “Right, sorry. I’ve become desensitized to the smell; I don’t know how bad it is anymore.”
A giant brown hog was basking in the bath, rocks stacked on top to keep him from floating.
“It’s all the fat. Makes him buoyant,” Nina said.
“What are you going to do with him?”
“I don’t know yet, but I couldn’t give up a find like that. I found him in the woods next to the school. Maybe I’ll make a shrunken head; I’ve been dying to try this Shuar recipe from a banned paper from the Academies.”
“You’ve got quite an impressive collection here,” I said, my eyes scanning the lab.
Nina shrugged. “Thanks. I’ve been trying to sell some of it after the Symposium, but it’s slow, and the shipping costs are astounding.
Julian had a cousin who worked for the post and was helping, but since he’s been gone, it’s slowed down.
Even the most aggressive collectors don’t want to pay for postage that’s worth almost the price of the artwork. ”
“Julian was helping you sell these?”
“Yeah, now and then. That’s just how Julian was; he always helped people around here. He wasn’t selfish like the lot upstairs.” Nina stepped away from the brine bath. “That’s why when you showed up . . . I thought I ought to pay the favor forward. It’s what he would have wanted.”
“He died,” I said factually, staring at the brown hog covered in rocks.
“Yes, he did.”
“What happened?” I asked, turning to face Nina. The stench of formaldehyde had somehow become more tolerable the longer I stood in the lab.
“He killed himself, quite dramatically,” she said, the word landing with a bitter edge.
“Hung himself in the sitting room—a grand gesture to the school and the Meister, just like Julian wanted. He talked about wanting to bring down the school, do something so dramatic that it’d get the press involved.
But I never expected Julian would really do it.
He underestimated the Meister, how well connected he is.
Even with the school being underfunded, he’s from a long line of political magickians. They know how to bury things.”
“He and Julian weren’t on good terms, then?”
“No, not at all. Julian was from quite a powerful legacy, or so he said. But the Meister thought that was the only reason he got in. People underestimated Julian, especially his courage.”
“Why are you still here, then? After all that happened?”
Nina shifted her stance, the movement subtle but telling.
“Students who come to Foresyth . . .” she began, her voice quieter now.
“We don’t exactly have a wealth of alternatives.
Especially not someone like me. We’re all repaying some kind of debt, one way or another.
” She paused, eyes flicking to the floor before continuing.
“I wasn’t born into a legacy. I wasn’t groomed for this.
I stumbled into magick—and art—as a child, and it consumed me.
Foresyth was the only place that ever offered me a way to make it more than a passing fascination. ”
We made our way back to the lab benches, our footsteps echoing softly. “This place . . . it has everything I need to build a real life. Not just theory, not just talent—work. It’s the only shot I’ve got.”
“You really believe in it, don’t you? Magick, I mean,” I said, grazing my forefinger across a lab logbook at the acid station.
Nina shrugged. “Magick is what’s left over after reason explains. There’s a lot that’s still unexplained in the world, don’t you think, Miss Tarot reader?”
“That’s what the Meister said. That art was what is left over,” I said, raising my eyes to meet hers. “But I disagree, I think there’s a scientific explanation for everything. We just haven’t found it yet.”
Nina took the bench chair next to me, resting her chin on her elbows. “Really? You mean to say that nothing inexplicable has ever happened to you?”
I thought over her question, searching the archives of my memory.
“Once,” I admitted.
Nina’s eyes widened, and she leaned in.
“I was a kid.” I turned to her. “My dad was just playing some kind of magic trick on me. He used to do those a lot, but he always made me guess how he did it. A sleight of hand, a double-sided coin, invisible ink. I’d agonize over it for a few days until I’d figure it out,” I paused.
“But there was one I never figured out.”
“Oh?” Nina prodded.
“It was something so silly. He was a geologist of sorts, so he liked to play with rocks, minerals, anything he could get his hands on. There was a black stone—obsidian I think—that I found in a park once. He made me put it in this jar of dirt he had sitting in his lab. The container was clear, so I could see the dirt—there wasn’t a false bottom or anything like it.
I put the stone in it. He closed it and shook it up, and—a moment later, he poured all the dirt out onto his bench. The stone was gone.”
“Gone?”
“Yes, it wasn’t in the jar anymore. I searched everywhere in his lab after that. Nothing. He was so amused by it, how I struggled to figure out the trick. It’s been years and I still haven’t figured it out.”
“You could always ask him.”
“I can’t anymore.”
“Oh. I’m sorry,” Nina said, looking away.
“Both my parents are dead, too. Have been since I was a kid. Died in a motorcar accident—so much for technology improving people’s lives.
For the longest time, the only thing I wanted to do was bring them back.
” She moved over to the tub of brine, her fingers searching for something to fiddle with.
My heart sank, images of my own father flashing in my head. I had wanted to bring him back, too.
Something clicked in my mind as I thought back to my first conversation with Nina.
“The Gremlins, the techno-anxiety—it’s yours, too.”
Nina looked away, rolling her eyes. “I’m not afraid of motorcars, but I did want to understand why. Why did they have to die like that?”
“You want their death to mean something,” I said, blinking away the sting in my eyes. When she didn’t reply, I asked, “And you don’t want to anymore? Bring them back?”
Nina turned to me, smiling. “Necromancy is a dangerous magick. They wouldn’t come back the same anyway. Besides, I’ve found a better way of dealing with my loss.”
“Oh?”
“Honoring them,” she said solemnly, looking back at the tub.
“Perhaps you could use a friend in that pursuit.” I forced my tone to be casual.
“And I guess you could use one too, new girl.” A wry smile crested her lips.
I watched her for a moment as she toiled over the brine bath, carefully stacking stones atop her specimen with practiced precision.
Her focus, her tireless resolve—it was animated by grief, not unlike my own.
Loss had shaped us both, though in different molds.
Was this blossom of friendship seeming or becoming, as the Meister had urged? I swallowed the lightness in my chest.
We spent the rest of the morning in the lab, Nina detailing every piece of equipment on the benches and me soaking it all up. I was especially pleased to find a light analyzer capable of chemical analysis of liquids and solids.
“I don’t have the slightest idea how to use that, so it’s all yours if you want it. There are also drawers of spare mechanical parts that I promised. I’ll clear my stuff from that bench,” she said.
I smiled and thanked her. Excitement welled up in my chest as I pried the drawers open and looked through them. A rusty gear stood out to me as nearly the perfect size for a music box I had been working on. I pocketed it, turning my attention back to Nina.
“And here’s my spare key to the lab,” she said, untangling a key from her necklace. “The Meister isn’t here enough to enforce his silly rules.”
I took the key from her, slipping it into my pocket. It didn’t matter if our friendship was true or not, I decided. The most important thing was that it was proving to be useful.