“Sometimes that’s true,” said Gideon. “But what do you do when you don’t have the right recipe? Or worse, what happens when you don’t see an ingredient for what it truly is?”
Sylvie had made that mistake once. She accidentally used salt in a cake instead of sugar.Even in non-magical cooking, mistakes could equal disaster.
“Cooking requires you to use all your senses and intuition,” continued Gideon.
There was that word again, the sixth sense, guiding your hand.
Darius folded his arms across his chest. “If someone can’t recognize magic when it’s right under their nose, they shouldn’t be here.”
Gideon raised a brow. “Do you really think it’s that easy?”
The edges of his mouth curled. “Yeah, I do.”
“Excellent! Then I’m sure you’ll pass today’s class with flying colors.” She hoisted up a basket of something that looked like purple onions. “These are squill bulbs. I’ve hidden them throughout this area of the garden.” She pointed to a patch the size of a football field. “Each of you will take a shovel and hunt one down.”
“You can’t be serious,” Darius groused. “We’re not dogs. How are we supposed to find something you’ve shoved in the dirt?”
Gideon smiled like a Cheshire cat. “For you, I’m sure it’ll be simple.”
Darius now turned even paler. “This is a waste of time. I’m going to make sure the CCS hears about this. We should be cooking, not gardening.”
“This task is not about gardening,” continued Gideon. “It’s about recognizing something that has been touched by magic.” She picked up her Blade. “Beet paper. Sugar windows. Pastillage tables. Tempered chocolate doors.Half of Brindille is an edible illusion, even this.” She lifted her knife and drove it down onto the stone surface in front of her.
Sylvie recoiled, waiting for the sound of crushing steel. But it never came.
A sheet of gray lifted off the table, pulled by an invisible force.
“Is that what I think it is?” Adara asked.
“Whoa!” Carlos’s mouth hung agape. “Chocolate.”
Sylvie stared.
Resting beneath the stone façade, like a hermit crab hiding beneath a shell, was a pristine block of tempered chocolate.
Gideon tapped the side of her Blade gently against the other table. Sylvie waited for another spark. But nothing came.
“You need to learn to recognize what is real and what is magic. It doesn’t matter if it’s a chocolate table or a squill bulb. The fate of your spell … your safety … your Blade depend on it.”
Sylvie stared at the knife in Gideon’s hand. Once you had your Blade, you were bound to it. If something happened to it, that was it. There was no do-over. Your ability to cook up magic was lost.
“Now please grab a hand trowel.” Gideon pointed to a wooden crate filled with small shovels. “I’ve hidden one bulb per student. You’ll have an hour to find them, starting now.”
Sylvie joined the pack of kids diving into the crate.
How am I going to find a squill when I know nothing about them?Sylvie racked her mind for clues as she yanked up a blue-handled trowel. She stopped short.
A hand with a set of bitten nails was clutching the other end.
Georgia stared at her for a moment, looking slightly annoyed.
You can take it,Sylvie was about to say. But before she got a chance …
“I’ll find another one,” said Georgia, pushing back into the box.
Sylvie thought about handing over the shovel. But was Georgia trying to be nice?Maybe she doesn’t want anything to do with me?
Now wasn’t the time to find out.
