“Ebony,” Nia replied instantly. “Expensive and hard. Used for furniture, inlays-it’s imported from the south.”

“When Traders give their children their first staff, they tell us ebony’s magical use is for protection. Well, what do carpenters make for protection?” Daja asked. “You can spell ebony inlays on a baby’s cradle, to keep it from harm. You could place spells against fire in ebony thresholds in one of your father’s banks. It would have to be very powerful, because some things, like a really big fire-” She stopped, thinking of the boardinghouse fire and the spells that battled the flames. She blinked, shook off the memory, and continued, “Some things have more power than you. Still, you can keep the bank from catching fire because someone knocked over a candle.”

Nia’s eyes were wide. “Really?”

“In time,” Daja said. “It depends on the strength of your power and on your education. You need practice, and a teacher, and control-which means meditation. Let’s start on that. Do you know where Jory is?”

Nia closed her eyes for a moment. Then she opened them. “Book room,” she said, leading the way.

“Why did you do that?” Daja asked, curious. “Why close your eyes?”

“Oh, it’s because we’re twins,” Nia said. “It’s not magical, though. We know some other twins, and they do it, too. Usually Jory and I know where the other one is. If something big happens, we can tell. When Jory broke her arm falling off the stable roof, I knew it, even though I was at market with Mama.”

Jory was in the book room, as Nia had said, poring over recipes. “Why would anyone want to peel a thousand walnuts?” she demanded as Daja and Nia came in. “Do they mean the shell, or the brown skin over the nut meat? Where could you even get a thousand walnuts?”

“I don’t know and I’m not interested,” replied Daja. “Come on. You won’t learn to meditate reading walnut recipes.”

“Oh, that,” Jory said, closing her book. “What is meditation, anyway? Is it boring?”

“Come do it and find out,” Daja told her firmly. “Where can we be undisturbed?”

The twins looked at each other and shrugged simultaneously. “The schoolroom, I suppose,” Jory said. “Nobody’s there at this hour.”

Daja followed them up to the schoolroom, on the third floor with the twins’ bedrooms and the nursery where Peigi and Eidart slept. The floor was silent: the younger Bancanors were no doubt out somewhere with their nursemaids.

Inside the schoolroom, the twins watched as Daja used her staff to draw a protective circle big enough for the three of them. Leaving a foot of it open, she beckoned for them to come through and sit.

“I’ll get my dress dirty,” they chorused, looking at the floor with disdain. They looked at each other and grinned: they often echoed each other.

Daja leaned on her staff and waited. The twins pointed out the silvery magic of the flat circle to one another. That answered something for Daja: she knew Jory had glimpsed the kitchen spells, and now she also knew that Nia could see magic. It wasn’t a common gift, though it made life easier for those who had it.

When the novelty of the circle wore off, Jory sighed. “Do we have to do this? It’s late. I’ve been at lessons forever-can’t I have time to myself? I’ll get splinters on the floor. And I’m hungry.”

Daja waited. She didn’t expect Nia to be a problem, but Jory would be, given a chance. She had to learn now that she couldn’t get around Daja as she did others. Their situation was only temporary, but if Daja had to teach at all, she would teach as if it mattered.

Nia sat first, her skirts tucked neatly around her. Jory continued to stare at Daja. Finally Nia tugged Jory’s orange skirt. “Stop it,” she told her twin. “I don’t think she’s interested.”

Once Jory settled, Daja said, “I’m not.” She closed the circle, then sat on the floor and raised her protections until they were enclosed inside a perfect magical bubble.

Next she told the girls, “Meditation teaches you to control your power. To control it, you have to find it, so that’s where we’ll start. First step. Take a long, deep breath. Count to seven as you do it. Then… ” She continued instructions on proper breathing, words she could repeat in her sleep. As she spoke she watched their faces. What was going on behind those similar, yet different, eyes? “Let’s try it. Sit up straight.” The girls’ backs were straighter than Daja’s, the result of hours with etiquette teachers. “Breathe as I count. Breathe in.” She counted as automatically as she’d described the breathing, letting them get familiar with this easiest part of the exercise. After about ten minutes she let her voice grow quieter, until she finally counted only in her own mind. The twins kept pace even without hearing her.

“Very good,” Daja told them softly. “As you breathe, empty your mind of thoughts. Forget everything. This might take time, but try. As I count, let your thoughts flow away as if you empty them from a pitcher. Ready? One …”

She knew once she told them to empty their minds, they would think of anything and everything. Each time they lost track of the count, Daja corrected them and started over. She had restarted five times when Jory complained, “This is boring.”

“Quiet. Listen inside your mind,” Daja said firmly. “One. Two. Three… “