Bee And Foxglove

Foxglove Makes A List Of Gruesome Symptoms

Foxglove spent several hours reading Principles of the Art from cover to cover, then moved onto skimming other works.

Principles was a fascinating read: clear, free of unnecessary complexity, and able to admit where it didn't have the answers. It left Foxglove with the sense that anyone could do magic, and even an inclination to give it a go herself.

The next books didn't flow nearly so easily, however. Foxglove began to see what Francis had meant about magic being made exclusive on purpose: a lot of material seemed complex for the sake of complexity itself. After puzzling through a particular paragraph for a whole ten minutes and taking a note, Foxglove realised that the single sentence she had written down contained all the actual information the paragraph had offered.

"Ugh, this is so frustrating!" growled Foxglove, slamming yet another book closed. (Arcanotis Arcana Arcanorum, a book which Foxglove had somewhat hastily decided was about nothing at all).

There was the sound of hysterical laughter coming from outside. Foxglove glanced longingly at the wastepaper basket for a moment, before instead replacing Arcanotis on the bookshelf. Then she went outside to investigate.

Bee, it turns out, was levitating pieces of cheese for Sweetpea to eat – but only if she could catch them. Sweetpea was chasing and leaping and barking madly. Foxglove laughed along, forgetting her troubles for a while.

Soon Guinevere came out to say that dinner was ready, and everyone sat down in the living room to eat together.

"How is research going?" Francis asked Foxglove.

"Ugh, I don't know. I don't know if I've found anything that really speaks to what I want to learn."

"What have you been reading?"

"Last one was 'Arcanus Arcanum Arcanissimus' or whatever," said Foxglove, making no attempt to disguise her distaste.

"Ah, Vincent's favourite," laughed Francis.

"Really?" said Foxglove.

"Father, I made no such statement," said Vincent, putting down his regular knife delicately and picking up his fish knife. "I merely wished to put forth that Arcanotis Arcana Arcanorum has a superior postulation to Principles in regards to the Seven Vanished Forces."

"Ah. You may be right," said Francis noncommittally.

"I had this one thought," said Foxglove. "In Principles of the Art it says that there are two sets of incantations: the long incantation which, sort of... invokes each natural force and... positions them in relationship with one another – I don't know if I said that right," (Francis nodded encouragingly) "– and the short incantation, which is basically just shorthand. When you say the short incantation, you're really just reminding yourself of the whole spell you prepared."

"That's correct," said Francis.

"So I was thinking... what if the Power Incantation is just a short incantation and there is a longer version somewhere? Do you know?"

"Ah," said Francis, looking pensive. "You know, that's a very good question..."

"There is," said Vincent.

Foxglove looked at him.

"There is. It was in Integer et Dignissimus Tractatus de Arte et Praxi Magicarum Arcanorum."

"You should try and breathe in the middle when you say a long sentence," said Bee.

Concealing a smile, Francis said, "Let's see if we can dig that up later."