Rip Foster Rides the Gray Planet by Harold L. Goodwin (free reads .TXT) 📕

the everyday existence of a world devoid of magic. I thought I’d miss my friends when I found out about the S.P.M.A. but they were few and far between in the first place — the ones I did see above ground struggling to find things to talk about.

Most friendships are fickle, anyway, based on circumstances and convenience. I know how lucky I’ve been with the friends I’ve got now, beginning with Kaira’s appearance: a friend I hope I’ll see soon. For now, it’s time to discuss the rumours of a duel with Kaira’s dad and aunt — Casper and Philomeena — who move in their graceful manner near the spiral staircase.

They spend time with talkative Cendryll members they once kept their distance from. A lot has changed since then, including the sky urchins offering advice to the youngest amongst us: Jacob’s class of inquisitive students who’re desperate to pass their trial, determining whether they stay or leave.

Yoran has endless patience, an elderly sky urchin currently explaining the powers and limitations of a Disira charm to Ethan Lyell. Ethan is clever but relies on his charm and good looks. It’s dawning on him that he’s in a fierce competition with his classmates — none of them keen to give the other an advantaged. They’ve got a lot about the power of unity.

As Ethan reaches out for a book delivered by a bottle-blue Quij, he keeps time with Yoran, running over the key principles of the Disira charm. He’s got all the hallmarks of a Renn except for the intensity which, I imagine, will come in time. His great uncle and aunt, Casper and Philomeena, stop to talk to him, asking how he’s settling in. He loves it here but is also under no illusions. Family names give you no advantage: you cut it or you don’t.

Ageing giants and Williynx are the other two new additions to The Cendryll, a flurry of feathers filling the hollow chamber each morning. Kerevenn is the most regular face on the ground floor, his thin, stooped figure now dressed in light blue, discarding the grey uniform of Sad Souls: the land of ageing giants.

Hovering near The Seating Station, Kerevenn is still negotiating his way into the hearts of the Society elders, working out the subtle rhythms of The Cendryll as he offers assistance to whoever needs it. He hasn’t worked out that he doesn’t work for anyone here; he’s an equal, still struggling to come to terms with this after decades at the beck-and-call of senior Society members.

Kerevenn looked after my mum after her ‘mishap’: the reason she’s not allowed here anymore. His kindness is part of his interaction with others, and it was this very kindness that stopped my mum falling into the hands of those wanting revenge. Mum had a power complex, treating others like underlings and being unnecessarily cruel. Not many people ask about her now: a sign of the hurt she caused.

The other reason she’s still got some form of protection, hidden in the twisted building on the Society margins, is down to Casper and Philomeena Renn. Unlike my mum, they’ve always worn their power with ease: a mark of those with a calling.

You can tell Casper misses Kaira, the daughter he brought into the S.P.M.A. to protect her. Things escalated faster than he could have imagined, forcing us to learn defensive and protective charms at rapid speed before the battlefield called.

I wonder how often Casper hears from Kaira, and if she’s passing through soon. I hope she does so we can spend some time in familiar places like Wimples and Merrymopes, feeling like we’re slipping back in time when we were consumed by the wonder of it all: a wonder that never truly leaves you.

“Glad to see you made it home,” Philomeena says with a smile, her maternal instincts keeping an eye on me.

“It’s Conrad’s fault; he started singing.”

Casper raises his eyebrows. “Singing?”

“To win a bet,” Conrad explains, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to stay alert.

“So we hear,” Casper adds, the handsome, mixed-race features offering a look of caution. “A duel is highly unlikely to get the approval of The Orium Circle, Conrad. After all, you’re talking about competing with creatures only recently tamed.”

“It would be a way to stay sharp, though.”

“Maybe,” Philomeena adds, “but it sends the wrong message: that conflict is still a common feature of Society interaction.”

“We were thinking of visiting Drandok?” I ask as I stand, keen to get in the shower. “To see how they tame the Riadek.”

“No harm in that,” Casper adds, studying us as he takes out a Follygrin: a sign he knows we’re up to something.

13

A Question of Intent

Talk of Drandok gains pace later in the day after we offer greetings to other familiar faces. Noah and Lucy arrive in The Cendryll through one of the many doors lining the ground floor, having received word of our meeting via Scribberals.

Noah and Lucy are based in a different Society faculty — The Leverin — so Scribberals are used to communicate meeting points before another evening of Night Ranging begins.

Jacob’s also present, having taken the rest of the day off. He wants his students to experience various teaching methods: Farraday on hand to remind the class of the beauty and danger of all magical things.

According to Jacob, the students fell into complete silence when Farraday entered the small classroom on the second floor for the first time, their awe-struck gazes falling onto a wizard who’s scarred body tells its own tale.

Part of me suspects that Jacob’s taken the morning off after hearing rumours of our planned duel in Drandok. Ever the protective older brother, he still appears when he’s worried about me, offering gentle reassurance and guidance whenever he feels the need.

The question of darker rhythms leads the conversation, the five of us gathered around the dining table in the middle of the room. I love the elegance and eccentricity of my personal space in The Cendryll,