– What needs to be done with coffee to create a “talking” smell? And by the way, what was he talking about? “Don’t drink me, you’ll become a goat”? – I remembered some Slavic fairy tale. It seems Russian. But they didn't seem to know her here, because Dougal almost choked and carefully put the cup down.
“I don’t have to worry about that anymore.” Late.
I didn’t immediately understand what he was talking about. And when I realized… Blood rushed to my face, I also hastily put the cup on the table:
– Listen, that’s not what I… didn’t mean at all! This is actually… from Slavic legends, I don’t seem to remember exactly. A friend told me. I studied to be a translator, from Russian.
“Wow,” said Dougal, looking at me thoughtfully. – Miss Blair couldn't do that. I thought this face was basically incapable of blushing, but this is not the first time I’ve seen something like this. Don't make excuses, you have nothing to do with it. I can be rewarded with not such comparisons. And none of them will be offensive, because they are true. Only funny.
“I don’t see anything funny,” I muttered. I wanted to hide behind my cup, preferably entirely. – And yet, what could be wrong with the smell of coffee? I am curious.
– Excessive bitterness from overexposure. Sourish tones are due to untimely addition of water. Astringency with slight notes of burnt is due to too strong an infusion of magic, and a sourish-tart tint is due to too weak.
– And this is all by smell?! – Yes, he should work as a perfumer, or a taster, or… who else needs a nose sensitive to the slightest shades? Although… he, to some extent, is all this combined. Potions and potions, balms and syrups, what else was there? Elixirs?
– Sometimes by color, sometimes by consistency, more often, if we are talking about students, appearance or a minimal idea of the state of the manufacturer’s convolutions is enough. In Miss Blair's case, almost all of these points came together in a bizarre way. Drink, it will get cold.
We finished our coffee in silence. I thought it was a little awkward, but it seemed that only I felt the awkwardness.
When she stood up to wash the cups, Dougal shook his head.
– Imagine them clean. Shiny, smooth, white inside and out.
I stared at the cups standing next to me. Is it that simple? Imagine – that's all? Not even a wave of the hand, like the ones Charlotte showed me, or even a wave of an eyebrow? although… I’ve already done magic like that. Not over the cups – over yourself and your clothes. When my hands were full of Chester's botanical rarities. And it worked out well!
It’s even strange that I never tried to repeat it later. It's probably all about lack of habit.
– You can wave your hands over them if it’s easier for you. But this is not necessary; for minor magical manipulations, ordinary visualization is sufficient.
“Y-yes,” I nodded uncertainly. I imagined the cups to be white. The coffee stains haven't gone away. She took a deep breath and, trying to hold the mental image of clean, white, shiny cups, raised her hand and released a stream of magic from her palm. The cups sparkled as if they had just come out of the dishwasher.
– Happened! – for some reason I exclaimed in a whisper.
“I’ll give you credit,” Dougal chuckled. – The most difficult thing is to visualize the image. Imagine it down to the smallest detail and breathe life into it. Saturate with magical power.
– Are the clothes the same yesterday? Just introduced?
– Yes. But you already know that to maintain non-existent things, constant replenishment is desirable. Everywhere, except places overflowing with magic. It wasn't needed yesterday.
– Law of energy conservation? – I asked.
– Exactly.
– What about matter? I mean, making something out of nothing – is that really possible?
– Consider it an illusion. Material.
– Doesn’t it consist of molecules and atoms?
– And it exists only in your imagination. And – or – in the imagination of others. At the same time, preserving some properties of a material, really existing prototype.
I shook my head:
– It's hard to believe. It's simply incomprehensible. I can't wrap my head around it!
– For us it is as clear and simple as breathing. And you will get used to it.
Well, yes, if you live with this from birth, of course, it will be clear and simple. And I… yes, I’ll probably get used to it. With time.
Will I get used to it?
– You think? – I looked at his face, trying to understand, to guess: did he really mean what I heard, or is this classic “wishful thinking”?
– I think. Good,” said Dougal, without looking away. – To the absence of crimson pants was added passable coffee.
I blushed again. She muttered:
– Men! The ideal woman is no pants and a good cook.
I noticed a familiar reference book on the table. The same one that was taken from Applestone. Not the worst way to get out of an awkward situation.