Magic Under Stone by Jaclyn Dolamore

Nimira and pick up the mail.”
    Luckily for all of our nerves, no one at the clothing shop paid us hostile attention. There were no young people here, just one old man discussing boots with another equally old man, both wearing battered caps and sweaters, and a tall, energetic woman who helped us select coats and boots. I had never seen a shop like this, selling only ready-to-wear clothes and nothing in the least pretty. There were knit caps and broad-brimmed hats and coats for rain and coats for snow, turtleneck sweaters in drab colors, and all sorts of sporting clothes like vests with numerous pockets, and snowshoes. I knew I would appreciate the coat in the cold, but I was deeply unenthused by the lack of, say, purple, which happened to be my favorite color.
    Besides that, Erris would not be talked out of spending money on a silly brown hat that made him look like he ought to be wrangling cows.
    “It’ll keep the sun out of my eyes,” he protested. “Anyway, I see other men wearing these, but I don’t see any bowlers.”
    He put it on right away, although there was no need to block the sun on the narrow alley we took to the post office. The houseswere built almost touching one another, with balconies overhanging the street, and casting shade on the sidewalks.
    Celestina posted our latest batch of letters—I had exchanged a few friendly missives by now with Annalie and Karstor—and picked up those that had come in. I had one from Karstor, but also a fat letter plastered with unfamiliar blue and orange stamps.
    “It’s from Hollin,” I said with surprise. I hadn’t realized how quickly mail could travel across the ocean these days; just over three weeks for a reply.
    “Hollin?” Erris scoffed. “You’re corresponding with him? I thought he was quite out of the way in New Guinnell.”
    I opened my mouth to tease him about being jealous, but then I thought, Might he really be jealous? That could be a marvelous thing. Maybe he wouldn’t take my company for granted if he was. I tucked the letter away with a secret little smile. “Well, of course I’m curious to know what he’s up to there. I wrote everyone as soon as we arrived.”
    “New Guinnell,” Celestina said. “Oh my. That is so exotic. I would love to hear your letter, if you are willing to share later.”
    “Well, I don’t know, I’ll have to see what it says,” I said with a dismissive shrug.
    “I should hope he doesn’t write you letters full of secrets,” Erris grumbled.
    I was not actually sure what to expect from Hollin. When we arrived home, I went to my room and unfolded it, the paper releasing a sweet scent that stirred memories of home. Until then I had never realized paper had different smells. Hollin was hundreds of miles from Tiansher, but much closer than I was.
Dear Nimira ,
I can’t tell you how pleased I was to receive your letter. Everything here is so exotic, and I can’t help but think of you. I can’t imagine you coming to my country, at a younger age than I am now, without family or work to give you direction in such a strange place. I know New Guinnell is far from your home, and yet I am reminded of you at every turn ....
    My heart was pounding fast. Even if he did think of me, it wasn’t proper to say so.
I have only just got settled in to my work and my new quarters. My room is almost all white—white walls, white bed linens, white sun streaming in. Quite the difference from Vestenveld! This week I’ve been going around with a Mr. Quendley, checking on local schools to inquire about their curriculum. The government wants to know if they are teaching magic to children .
Mr. Quendley is very much like the usual sort of well-to-do sorcerer of Lorinar; he is also quite obese and continually holds a handkerchief to wipe sweat from his face, and he has little use for anyone who isn’t from Lorinar or Dolland. But society is different here, there are not as many women, although many men have brought their wives, and