Justine Larbalestier - Magic or Madness

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Acknowledgments

An ocean of thanks to Scott Westerfeld, my first sounding board, audience, reader, editor, and critic.

Thanks also to Eloise Flood and Liesa Abrams, editors extraordinaire, for all your hard work and for continuing to push me that little bit extra. And to Andy Ball, Chris Grassi (love those snowflakes), Polly Watson and Margaret Wright.

Thank you, Pamela Freeman, Jan Larbalestier, Jeannie Messer, Sally OBrien, Kim Selling, Ron Serdiuk, and Wendy Waring for reading and commenting on the manuscript in early drafts.

Ann Bayly for her scientific expertise (all errors are, of course, mine).

Silvia Maria Palacios and Luz Barrn for making everything run like clockwork while I wrote the first draft in San Miguel de Allende in Mexico. And to Kate Crawford and Bo Daley for letting me use their home in Annandale (Sydney) for the penultimate round of rewrites.

Thanks also to Hopscotch (Sydney), Fifis (Sydney), Counter (New York City), La Palapa (New York City), and La Brasserie (San Miguel de Allende) for the food that sustained me while writing this book. If you dont eat, you die.

Lastly to John Bern, Niki Bern, Jan Larbalestier, and Scott Westerfeld: without your support, love, and, erm, prompting, Id never write a word.

Also by Justine Larbalestier

Magic Lessons

Also by Justine Larbalestier

Magic Lessons

Reason Cansino

It would be easiest to just walk out the front door. But Id been on the run since before I was bornI knew a lot about running away. Sometimes the simplest plan is not the way to go. If youre expected to run away, then wait awhile, go at night, go out a window or the back door, go over the roof. Leave the way people dont look for you to be leaving. (People rarely look up.) Plan ahead. Accumulate supplies and know your escape route. Avoid breaking the law or annoying anyone. Best to keep the number of people chasing you to a minimum.

My name is Reason Cansino. I was named Reason because my mother, Sarafina, thought it was prettier than Logic or Rationality or Intellect and had better nicknames, too. Not that Sarafina has ever called me anything but Reason.

My mother believes in all those things: logic, reason, and the rest, and in mathematics, which fortunately wasnt on the list of possible names. Im grateful to have a head full of numbers, but I wouldnt want to answer to the name of Algebra, Trigonometry, or Calculus.

Not many people have ever known my real name: the doctors and nurses at the hospital where I was born, police, private detectives. And her, of course, the wicked witch, my grandmother, Esmeralda Cansino.

All my life weve been on the run from her, Sarafina and me. She caught us once when I was ten, but we got away. It was dumb, I guess, but I thought that was it: she found us, we escaped, end of story. Shell never find us again.

Wrong.

Sarafina always said, Expect the best, but prepare for the worst.

Im good at the first part, crap at the second. Despite having lived all my life being made ready in case the wicked witch should find usSarafina taught me what to say, what not to say, filled my head with detailed plans of Esmeraldas house (What if she moves somewhere else? I asked. She cant, said Sarafina), how to get in contact with each other if separated, all of that.

Even so, I never really believed it would happen. Not twice. It was a game we played, Sarafina and me, nothing more.

I loved our life together. Id seen brolgas taking off at sunset, their white feathers stained pink, purple, and orange by the light, making vast ripples radiate through the wetlands, sending lily pads rocking, frogs leaping from pad to pad, and lazy crocs slipping flash quick into the water. Id seen a platypus clear as the air after rains have finally wiped the dust and dirt of a drought away, swimming slow and easy at dawn in water so still, so glass-like, you can see reflected the fine hair on your face.

In that life, Id never seen a movie, or been in a shopping centre, or held a remote control. Id never lived anywhere for more than five months, or in a town of more than a thousand people, or had any friends. Id never had to memorise a phone number because we never had one or knew anyone to call.

Sarafina turned our constant motion into a game, a lesson, a whole different world. I learned more in an hour spent with her than Id learned in my two months at a proper school. Sarafina made anything fun and everything fascinating. When it was time to move on (if we werent in an abandon-everything-and-run hurry), we would toss a coin onto a map and go where it landed or find a name of a town that appealed to us (Wanneroo? Borroloola? Or how about Jilkminggan?). Would we go to a nine-letter town like Fassifern (I love nines) or a prime-number town like Warhope? Or a town at an angle of exactly 45 degrees (more nines) from where we were?

One time we just walked in a straight lineusing a compass and the stars to verify the straightnessinto the bush, even though it took us through dense scrub, flooded creeks, and over steep ravines, until, at last, we came to a settlement. We were so pleased to see people living there on our straight line (the settlement was so small it wasnt on the map) that we stayed for almost four months. A lifetime!

Sarafina taught me how to read, how to run, how to hide, the music of numbers and of the stars above, and the patterns, the spirals in the flowers and termite mounds, the fruits and the scrub, the grasses and the trees.

Together wed learn how to start a fire by banging rocks together or, better, with the sun and a magnifying glass; how much water was necessary for an all-day trek (as much as we both could carry and then some); when it was time for a car; how bad was bad enough to go see a doctor (broken bones, high fever, vomiting that wouldnt stop); when to leave a pub before a stoush got out of hand; when to hitchhike and when to walk; how to gather water-lily roots, witchetty grubs, and wild honey.

That was our life together. As soon as I turned eighteen and was free from Esmeraldas custody claim, we were going to travel even furtherthe whole worldstart up north (Indonesia, Malaysia, Thailand, Cambodia) and just keep on going. Wed explore the world as thoroughly as we had Australia. For the rest of our lives.

How could I possibly have wound up in the witchs house? In the city, separated from my mother?

But there I was, sitting in a plane for the very first time, headed towards her.

With the Witch

She wore high-heeled shoes that were black, with sharp, pointy toes. If she kicked you, it would hurt. The shoes were so shiny I could see them clearly even though the floor of the cab was dark. It was as if they were made of glass.

How was the flight? Esmeralda asked again. Did they treat you okay?

I scrunched even closer to the door and turned my face to the bright glare of the window, determined not to look my grandmother in the eye.

Are you hungry? I dont suppose they gave you any food on such a short flight.

I was starving, but I certainly wasnt going to tell her that. I wasnt going to say a single word to Esmeralda ever, even if she kicked me with those witchy shoes. I slipped my hand into my pocket to hold my lucky ammonite, tracing the coiled chambers with my thumb. Sarafina had given it to me. It always made me feel braver.

Do you like cake? Ice cream? Theres plenty at home. We could have some afternoon tea. Thought you might enjoy that.

I wasnt going to eat any food shed touched, not even if it was chocolate. I had my own stowed in my backpack, which rested on the floor between my feet. Id eat it as soon as I could get away from her.

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