Trio of Sorcery Read Online Free PDF

the grave so that they broke and splattered all over the body.
    Then she called fire.
    â€œFiat ignis!” she screamed, pointing at that thing in the grave.
    The body went up in a sheet of flame all out of proportion to the amount of lighter fluid she’d thrown in there.
    There was the worst scream she had ever heard in her life, and a final bolt of lightning cracked out of the sky and slammed into the grave, flinging Di backward and onto her ass in the mud, blinding her again. Her nose filled with the smell of ozone and she blacked out for a moment.
    When she came to, there was rain in her face, mud in her ears, the smell of burned bones and burned hair in her nose, and the graveyard was empty of menace, dark clouds, or anything else.
    She had to somehow explain to the nurse at the emergency room why she had flash burns on her face.
    Fortunately, she didn’t have to explain to Memaw.

    She came to herself with a start, staring at the dying flames in the fireplace.
    Crap. Tomorrow is the first day of classes.
    Well, if old memories are the worst the universe is going to throw at me tonight, I guess I’m going to be all right here.

    Phooey. I am cream-crackered. She dropped her books on the top of the bookcase next to the desk and stared at the little kitchenette with a frown. Lunch. Must make lunch. And my brain is full. Finally, after a moment of indecision, she went to the stove to start hot water for tea. Tea and a PB&J was about all her brain was up to for the moment. She had known intellectually that college was going to be hard, but she hadn’t really grasped that it was going to mean a racing start right out of the gate.
    Speaking of racing starts… This building was full of other students, and there was no elevator. The staircase was at the far end of the hall, but she could still hear people running up or down it to get to or from their apartments for lunch. She could see now why the House for the off-campus types was a good idea. It had a library, a lounge, and a cafeteria…and when winter came in earnest, staying there between classes instead of going home was beginning to sound like a good idea.
    As she made the sandwich, she cocked her head to the side and listened to the sounds from her upstairs neighbors. There was only one floor above hers—she’d really wanted a studio on the fourth floor, to prevent the inevitable herd-of-elephants above her head, late-night party noise, and bathroom leaks, but there weren’t any available. So far, though, they hadn’t been too bad. Or else the floors were thicker than she thought. They mostly didn’t seem to use the floor as a trampoline, or a football field.
    They were men, though, so their footfalls weren’t exactly light.
    Their names were Itzaak Meyer and Emory Sung, and she imagined that mealtime up there probably got pretty interesting. Probably American, maybe New York deli versus—well, she didn’t know Emory’s exact nationality, “Sung” could be Korean, Chinese…probably not Japanese. Kimchee versus sauerkraut?
    Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe they both like the same food. Hell, for all I know they both like Italian.
    Wait, they were men. They wouldn’t cook. Would they?
    The kettle whistled and she made tea. She amused herself with those thoughts and ate her sandwich in neat little bites before working her way through the Moral Reasoning course homework. That was one of the Core courses that all Harvard students were required to take, and she had figured she would get it out of the way as quickly as possible. She hadn’t quite known what to expect from the title Moral Reasoning, and then she’d seen that it wasn’t just one course. She could choose one fromamong several options; she’d opted for Human Rights, a Philosophical Introduction. It seemed like a good solid choice, something she wasn’t likely to flounder in.
    That was her first course of the morning.