Behold! The Power of Revision!

[cathschaffstump]

47,113 / 80,000 (58.9%)

Revision can be painstaking, but at least there's more.

Here's something I always like to do with my students: show them the awe inspiring power of revision. This is that same scene from yesterday, only new and improved.



Stephan and Errol climbed down the stairs into the science department. The hall smell was science and alchemy—a hospital smell of ammonia and unnatural chemicals, mixed with the earthy pungent smell of dried nature. To the left were the science rooms where Mr. Huntington, Mr. Felix, and Ms. Masters taught. There were two alchemy instructors. Since he ran the school these days, Stephan knew that Professor Borgia only taught two classes: honors alchemy and alchemy to prepare for graduation. Stephan knew these classes were far off, and that he would have to study with Mrs. Smyth first, but he longed for the ability to study something advanced.
Stephan stepped into the alchemy lab. For the first time since he’d been at Rowther, Stephan felt relaxed. He was reminded of the classroom at home, of the times he and Errol played with their potions kits before his father took him home, the delight he had found in watching chemical reactions and transmutations. He was coming home.

Errol sensed it too. “I think we’ll need to spend a lot of time in this room.” Lab tables crossed the room horizontally. At the front of the room was a demonstration table covered with glassware. A cauldron sat on a wheeled table in the corner. Errol nodded approvingly. “I think we can do good work here.”

Stephan thumbed through a thick stained book on the lectern. “Lead into gold? I think that this is an O level transformation.” He leafed through the parchment pages. “Love potions?” Stephan made a face. “For what?”

Errol raised his eyes. “I wonder. No time for girls? Just time for evil?”

Stephan really wanted to throw something at him, but the acknowledgment would only encourage him. Errol joined him. “This textbook is not as arcane as some we have at home,” said Errol.

“Binding magic wouldn’t be in here.” Stephan looked longingly at the door by the blackboard, no doubt behind which were more books, or chemicals.

“No,” said Errol, moving away. “Probably if he has anything on poisons or black magic, it’s locked away. Come look at this.” Errol was eying a diagram of the four elements: fire, earth, water, and air. Magical symbols elaborated on the transformations of each into the others. “If you think about it, this chart shows elements defying what they do in science across the hall.”

“Hmm,” said Stephan. “I want to do well in here. I’m going to try to avoid understanding what they do across the hall.”

“You should be fine studying both as long as you don’t mix the two,” said Errol. “It’s never good to mix the possible and the impossible.”

Stephan chose not to reflect on that further. “We need something to make Esme’s circle out of, something particularly resistant to demons.” He ran a finger down the table of contents. “Silver? Iron? Blood?”

The voice from the doorway was Professor Borgia’s. “What do you think, given the nature of your family’s curse?”

Stephan closed the book quickly. Errol wheeled around. “I would hazard blood,” said Errol. “That seems too infernal, but we didn’t make the contract.”

Professor Borgia pursed his lips. “Blood. Stephan?”

“I wouldn’t guess blood. It’s a trial of character, purity of spirit, rather than a physical bond. So, I think we should probably look to what repels demons rather than attracts them. It could also be something used in magical conjuring, reinforced by internal magic of conscious.”

“Yet,” said Errol, “we are bound to the demons. I imagine there should be some sort of blood tie. My hypothesis is that the circle must be drawn with some blood component. Hopefully not Esme’s blood.”

Professor Borgia sat behind one of the student’s desks. “I guess you’ll have to figure it out, the two of you, and Esme of course.”

“You could tell us,” said Stephan, “if you know."

“Sorry,” said Professor Borgia. “The trial is yours, not mine. I’ll help you every way I can. You can come in after your classes and work on it, but I can’t solve this problem for you. I’m also a firm believer that if a student is going to discover something, they should discover it for themselves.”

“I understand,” said Errol. “You’re disqualified because you were Grandmother’s anchor.”

“Did you just say,” said Stephan, “that we could study in here?”

“I did,” said Professor Borgia. “Esme’s been looking into different aspects of her trial. I think she’ll leave this to you.”

Stephan smiled. “She can.” He stopped smiling. “I don’t mean to make light of this. She can count on us.”

“Of course,” said Professor Borgia, “you don’t mind taking special alchemy projects while you are being reliable?”

“Oh no,” said Stephan.

“Not at all,” said Errol.

“Good,” said Professor Borgia. He smoothed his thin moustache. “Only so long as you keep the rest of your marks up, understand.”

“Thank you sir,” said Errol.

“Let me get you some books,” said the Professor, rising. “A little light reading.

Don't expect anything until next week. Another 3 days of convention, this time with many presentations. See you Monday.

Catherine