uncertainly. "To be quite honest, I can't abide being around sick people. I would have made a very poor addition to the Water Ray."
They emerged out the end of the aisle into an open space filled with tables. A twelve-year-old student Miryo recognized only faintly was asleep at one of these, her head pillowed on an open book of maps.
"Are you nervous?" Narika asked suddenly, rounding on Miryo.
"I beg your pardon, Kai?"
"Nervous. About the testing. It's only a month away, as I'm sure you know all too well. Are you worried?"
Miryo looked at the witch, considered dissembling, and abandoned the idea. "Yes, Kai. Very much so."
"I can't say for certain, of course, but I don't think you need to be. Well, a little worry won't hurt you—it will keep you alert—but for the love of the Lady, Gannu made it through. You're a good student, from what I've heard and seen, and level-headed. Don't fret too much, and
do
be sure to sleep. You'll need your energy, if you want to pass."
"Yes, Kai. I'll be sure to rest."
"Do that." Narika turned again and sent a disapproving look at the sleeping twelve-year-old. "Not, of course, to the detriment of your remaining work." She sang a short phrase under her breath; Miryo immediately identified it as a simple spell of levitation, with the ending flourish that would fix it for a period of time. She felt no movement of power, of course, and would not until after her test. But she needed no special sense to see the spell's result; the chair the student was in, and the table her head was resting on, rose smoothly to hover in midair.
Narika turned back to face Miryo. "Have you further studying to do here?" Miryo nodded. "Then tell her, when she wakes, that I will see her an hour after First tomorrow. I don't side with those who would drive students until they drop, but neither will I tolerate laziness." That said, the witch disappeared down an aisle and out the door.
Miryo eyed the floating student with some amusement. Narika was unpredictable, but reasonably pleasant, as long as you didn't cross her. She felt some pity for the girl. With the spell fixed as it was, it would last for at least half a day. The girl would have to find a way down, or be in trouble from her teachers for missing class.
She fetched a book on spells of communication from a back corner of the library and brought it to one of the tables to read. After about three pages, noises from above told her the student was waking up.
The girl stretched, yawning, and rubbed at her eyes. Miryo stifled a snicker. Scratching one shoulder absently, the student opened her eyes blearily and looked around.
And then she looked down.
Miryo's laughter escaped her as the girl yelped in fright. The poor thing clutched at the arms of her chair, looking panicked. "You're not up
that
high," Miryo said calmly. "You can probably just jump down. Of course, I suggest you remember to take the book with you, or you'll be in trouble with Tomichu-ai for not returning it to the shelf."
"I'm afraid of heights," the girl whispered in a strangled voice.
"I'd say you have a problem, then. You can't levitate yourself down. If you don't jump, you'll have to stay there until the spell fades—which it should do an hour or so after Low, if I'm any judge—and every one of your teachers will assign you extra duties for missing class." Miryo stood, closing her own book; if the silly chit was going to keep having muffled hysterics up there, she would have to take her reading elsewhere. "That on top of whatever Narika-kai assigns you for falling asleep in the library in the first place. You're to see her an hour after First tomorrow."
The girl gave a little wail. From her expression, she'd run afoul of Narika before.
"Look on the bright side," Miryo continued, smiling. "Even if you can't find the guts to jump, the spell will fade before you have to meet Narika. I wouldn't recommend missing that appointment."
Then she left, shutting the door quietly but firmly on