Students in the class glance at each other, confused.
The teacher looks somewhat uncomfortable, but he answers the question anyway. “Some early mages believed that chaos was the fifth element, yes, but they found that it was impossible to apply the same mechanics to it. The equations fall apart, leaving us unable to manipulate it.”
“So then you’re wrong,” Adelina says.
The professor’s jaw drops. “Excuse me?”
“You said that the laws apply to everything. But not to chaos. So you’re wrong.” Her tone is matter-of-fact, almost haughty.
Whispers rise up in the classroom.
The professor’s eyes dart left and right, studying the students’ reactions. He takes a deep breath and says, “In this instance, we’re looking at the applied mechanics of spell work. Since we do not understand the mechanics of this fifth element or the magic related to it, there is no point in discussing them. Chaos is not relevant.”
“Then how did the universe begin? All of the elements we are discussing rose out of the primordial void of chaos, so they must somehow be related to it. The laws of these elements must relate to the laws of chaos in some as yet undetermined manner. Correct?”
The class buzzes with nervous anticipation, the students glancing from the professor to Adelina and back. The teacher maintains his calm. “Nothing can come from nothing, Miss Ward.”
“Not unless you have the right tools,” she says, her speech quickening with excitement. “Like a powerful wand—”
The professor cuts her off with a raised hand. “That’s enough for today. Thank you, everyone. Class dismissed.”
The students file out of the room, and the vision shifts, the classroom fading from sight, replaced by a different scene. We’re in an apartment, though not one I recognize. There’s a record player scratching out an old song, a velvet chaise in the living room, and an old-fashioned radio on the floor. Books upon books upon books stand like leaning towers beside it, with loose papers and rolled parchments and fountain pens dipped in ink scattered about the floor.
A young woman I don’t recognize storms into the room. She has flowing brown curls wrapped with ribbons in a neat bun atop her head. She’s wearing a long silk skirt, a blouse with wide sleeves, and heeled boots, looking like a proper Edwardian-era socialite. She marches in, a book clutched in one hand and a wide-brimmed hat full of flowers in another. She looks at the mess of the living room and groans.
Adelina follows the woman. She is dressed in a similar style, but she’s wearing a pleated skirt that’s a little wrinkled, and her hair is messy. It’s as if she’s been up all night studying. Deep shadows are beneath her sparkling green eyes.
“You don’t understand, Mary!” she cries. “This will work!”
“No, Adelina,” says Mary, spinning around in front of us, oblivious to our presence. “You’re only going to make trouble for yourself. These equations are dangerous.”
Adelina scoffs, rolls her eyes, and moves about the room, gathering her things. She takes a book with a green leather cover from the shelf and stuffs it into her schoolbag. There is something familiar about the book, like I’ve seen it once before on a shelf when I was a child, but I can’t remember where. Before I can get a better look, it’s already gone from sight. Adelina’s readying herselffor class. She grabs two more books and a stack of papers from a nearby desk.
Adelina is insistent. “I am telling you, Mary. Creation,realcreation, is possible. The magicians who made Arches, they materialized it out of thin air. But we can do more than that. I can do more.”
“You need to sleep,” Mary says. “Look at this place. Please. This obsession of yours is going to make you sick.”
“Chaos is the key. The creation of the universe from nothing. If we can harness the primordial essence, bend it to our will, just like any of the other elements they teach us about in class, we can do the impossible! I just want to borrow the wand, just for a little bit. You can get it for me from Old Bones, I know you can. Please, just do it for me.”
Mary rubs her forehead. “What are you rambling about?”
“Life,Mary! I can create life!”
The room fades to black, and the vision shifts again.
—
We’re in theRosette. It hasn’t changed. Even after a hundred years, it’s as if it’s been kept in a time capsule. The same bookcases, the identical marble floor and stained-glass window.
Adelina sits at a table, awash in the red light of the colored glass, hunched over her journal. Several books lie open on the table in front of her, and I recognize one. It’s the tome we stole from the archive:Evocations and Invocations in Theory.
A boy carrying a stack of books arrives at her table, smiling shyly. He’s slender, handsome in a soft way, with a kind smile. His hair is brown, slicked back, and parted on the side. He even wears suspenders over his white button-down shirt. There’s a small ink stain on his sleeve, and more on his hands. He’s an archivist.
“Here you go, Adelina,” he says, setting the books on her table. “The spells you asked for.”
She jumps from her seat and rushes to him, kissing him passionately. He stumbles when she embraces him, but he doesn’t pull away. Are they dating? When she breaks the kiss, her eyes sparkle with energy. “I did it. I solved it, Henri,” she says, breathless, wild. “The spell, it will work.”
“Th-that’s great!” Henri says, still smiling. “I knew you’d figure it out.”
