Free A Scholar of Magics by Caroline Stevermer

have been a schoolgirl, spinning herself dizzy as she gazed up into the heights overhead. Well, except for the hat. Lambert asked, “The golden section? What’s that?”
    â€œThe Greeks thought it was the key they needed to measure the whole world.” Jane glowed with enthusiasm. “If you divide a line such that the length of the shorter segment to the longer is the same as the ratio between the longer and the total of the two, that’s the golden section. You can keep it up forever if you want to, and if you map the coincident points, it makes a lovely spiral.”
    Something stirred far back in Lambert’s memory. “Oh, is that the chambered nautilus?”
    â€œThat’s the one.” Jane looked pleased with him.
    â€œWhat’s golden about the golden section?”
    â€œWhat’s golden about the Golden Rule?” Jane countered.
    â€œâ€˜Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them,’” Lambert quoted. “Matthew chapter seven, verse twelve. It’s a pretty good rule, don’t you think?”
    â€œYou have quite a memory,” Jane said dryly.
    â€œFor some things.” Lambert made himself look away and concentrate on the stained glass windows. He was careful to ignore Jane’s scrutiny, but he could still feel it.
    â€œI suppose you had the Scriptures drummed into you as a child.”
    â€œThat’s how I learned to read. My mother taught me.”

    â€œOh, that’s right. She was a schoolteacher, you said. Like me.”
    Lambert had to laugh a little. “I don’t think you teach at the same kind of school.”
    â€œWhy? Because Greenlaw teaches magic, do you think it’s so different?”
    Lambert looked squarely at Jane. “Fifteen students in eight different grades, all mixed together in a room no bigger than a box stall? One room with a potbellied stove for heat and a kerosene lamp for light? If Greenlaw isn’t different, I feel sorry for you.”
    Jane looked right back as she thought it over. “Running water?”
    â€œAll you want, in the creek at the bottom of the hill. There’s a bucket and a dipper by the door.”
    â€œI see. Yes, Greenlaw is different. Is that the kind of school you attended?”
    â€œThat’s right, and a lot of people had to work mighty hard to get that much. We were lucky to have any kind of a school.” Lambert gestured vaguely. “Something like this—it’s more than I can believe sometimes, that a place like this exists at all, let alone that it has existed for hundreds and hundreds of years.”
    â€œIt must be very different from what you are accustomed to.”
    Lambert couldn’t help laughing. “It is. It’s different here, but I like it. Who wouldn’t?”
    â€œIt can’t be very exciting for you. They won’t even let you join the old duffers in a glass of brandy.”
    â€œThere’s more than one kind of excitement. It would be
something, to be able to work here. Centuries of effort, all to one end. The men of Glasscastle did all that men can do to protect the wisdom of the ages.” Lambert took another look at the dimensions of the place, the sun through the vivid glass. “It’s safe here.”
    â€œSafer than under lock and key.” Jane gave Lambert a look of keen assessment. “They protect themselves from all kinds of things, these Glasscastle mean.”
    Together they strolled through St. Mary’s. Jane paused to read every memorial set into the walls, to admire every change in the vaulting overhead, and to step as carefully as possible around the brasses and inscriptions in the floor.
    â€œThat was excellent. What’s next on the grand tour of Glasscastle?” Jane asked when they had examined every feature of the place.
    â€œWell, it’s up to you. You want to see the Winterset Archive, I reckon. After that,