Modern Magick

Alchemy and Argent: 4

To my surprise, when we entered the illustrious Academy building we found the entrance hall full of people. And I do mean full. They weren't students either, or they didn't look like it. Most were at least my age or older, and only about half were human. The rest were fae of various tribes and cultures, including a couple of spriggans, a troll, and a willowy silver-haired man who would've looked right at home in the kingdoms of the Yllanfalen. I'd expect to see such a rabble pouring through the doors of the Emporium, but what were they doing here at the Academy?

A petite woman with a blonde ponytail and a thousand-watt smile spotted us as we came in, and leapt to clear room for Val's chair. 'Are you here for the tour?' she asked us.

'N—' began Val.

'Yes,' I said firmly. 'We'd love to join the tour.' Not only were tours sometimes surprisingly informative, but the general chaos they caused was also perfect for surreptitiously sneaking off. Nobody would notice if a tour of twenty-plus people suddenly shrank by, say, one or two.

'Great!' said the tour guide, displaying enough energy for twelve people as she herded us all into a roughly organised group, and took up a position at the front. She placed Val front and centre, which was both considerate and convenient. We got a clear view of everything, even in the crowd.

The Academy building was not quite what I had pictured. It was small, relatively speaking, and I had no trouble believing that it had once been a private residence. The walls were built from that lovely, dark-red brick they favoured in the 1500s, at least those who could afford it; those things were painstakingly crafted by hand, after all. The leaded windows looked original, and the place had the eccentric, poky structure of antiquity; none of the clear, open spaces and featureless décor one would expect to find in a modern educational establishment. The Elvyngs hadn't stinted on ornaments, either. Oil paintings hung in ornate frames upon every wall, probably depicting former scions of their line, and I spotted more than one artefact of great age and value prominently upon display.

They must have good security at the Elvyng Academy — and a charming confidence in the rectitude of their students.

Hopefully the security wasn't going to get in my way later. I had nothing like so much faith in my own rectitude. Oh, not that I was planning to walk off with a fourteenth-century enchanted music box (tempted though I might be). But a little sneaking and stealthing might well be in order.

'Welcome to the Elvyng Academy!' roared our tour guide, and the low babble of chatter and rustling of fidgeting people slowly ceased. 'Over the next half-hour I'll be showing you the highlights of this remarkable, early sixteenth-century building, home to generations of the brightest minds in magick. The Elvyng family's contributions to magick are deservedly legendary, and you'll be hearing all about those today.

'It is the summer holidays so most classes are suspended this week. There may be one or two study groups still in session, so I must ask you please to keep the chatter to a minimum as we proceed. Okay?' Tour Guide Lady beamed upon us.

We were an obedient tour group, for nobody spoke.

'Okay, let's begin!' Tour Guide Lady led us out of the main hall and into a kind of salon, its contents correct for the sixteenth century: heavy, English oak chests and cabinet chairs, tapestries, etc. More paintings, the largest of which we halted in front of.

'The Elvyng family legacy began with Ambrose Elvyng in the late fourteen hundreds,' said Tour Guide Lady. I caught a glimpse of her nametag. Denise. 'An early pioneer of the arts of charm-binding, he's said to have been among the first to lastingly imbue inanimate objects with magickal properties. Isn't that impressive? But it was his son, Wauter Elvyng, and his daughter Godlefe who founded the Elvyng Academy...'