The three apprentice wizards luxuriated in their newfound friendship. They could all feel something growing between them. None of them knew what it was, but it was with real regret that they were forced to separate, each of them having to study for the next day's testing. The Gods damn my luck! thought Thomas as he headed back to his room. We could have had five years, if we'd met earlier. Now, though, we've only got days, perhaps a couple of weeks if we go the same way home. How likely is it that I'm going to meet friends like these again? People who are so like me? Cursing fate was a fool's game, though, as his father was fond of saying. You could only accept what life gave you. He knew it was true, but it was no consolation as he spread his notes out on the table and tried to focus his eyes on them.

     They spent every free moment they could spare in each others' company over the next few days, begrudging every minute spent in study, and the result was that their preparations for the later stages of the test suffered. Thomas actually had to struggle to cast his remaining spells, and when the time came for him to cast his last one he found himself struggling to remember the correct intonation and hand movements, with the result that he came within a hairsbreadth of failure. The near miss scared him badly, and when he spoke to the others he found that they were in the same situation, and they all resolved to make up for their complacency. They stayed away from each other for a while, therefore, forcing themselves to concentrate on their work.

     They spent hours in their own rooms, poring through their notes and leaflets and studying the words of the spell they would be casting that day, words that had changed since the last time they’d read them. Magic changed all the time. The words and hand movements required to create a specific effect had a habit of changing, sometimes over the course of a single day. Fortunately, a wizard’s spellbook contained a powerful enchantment that allowed the words written in it to follow those changes, so that speaking them would still create the same effect. Spellbooks were among the most powerful artefacts that any wizard could possess, therefore, and it was impossible to follow that profession without possessing at least one of them. The spellbooks the apprentices were given when they enrolled had been created by some of the most powerful wizards in the valley. If they had had to buy them, they would have cost more than an equal sized block of pure iron. If they wanted to advance in wizardry, though, they would inevitably need more spellbooks, which they would have to buy on the open market. One of the first things a new wizard did upon graduating, therefore, was look for ways to make money. Lots of money.

     The fifth year apprentices had each mastered between three and six spells, but at present they could only hold enough of the magic force in their bodies to cast one a day, except Jerry who, like all nomes, had a greater capacity for stored magic and could sometimes hold enough for two, if they didn't require too much of it. As they grew in age and experience they would gradually develop the ability to hold more of the magic force in their bodies, maybe enough to cast dozens of spells in one day in the case of the very most powerful wizards, which was a prospect they all looked forward to with undisguised excitement.

     Thomas eventually reached the point where any further study was pointless and would only tire him out, so he decided to go for a nice relaxing walk. Outside it was clear and bright, with the yellow sun halfway up the sky in the east and the red sun low on the western horizon, just above the mountains. The entire valley was ringed with mountains, in fact the valley was nothing more than a tiny habitable zone, a tiny island of warmth and comfort, in the midst of a mighty mountain range whose nearest edge was three hundred miles away.

     This small and pleasant enclave, measuring only a couple of miles across, had been created a thousand years before, when the University had been moved from the heart of the Agglemonian Empire, the mightiest human civilisation that had ever existed. At that time, the Empire was being torn apart by savage civil war and wracked by long periods of anarchy between the reigns of one self proclaimed Emperor and another. The University, as the centre of one of the few bastions of power remaining in the world, had been a natural target for anarchists, terrorists, rebels, revolutionaries and mobs. On top of that, both those in power and those trying to take power had tried to recruit them into their ranks, and the words "If you're not with us, you must be against us" had been heard with sickening regularity. Eventually, it had become simply too dangerous to remain any longer, and so the entire University, buildings and all, had been moved thousands of miles to a spot far from civilisation, where they could live and work in peace, untroubled by politics.

     A wide steep sided valley had been found, and a dozen bordering mountains had been demolished to partly fill it in, forming a flat area on which a pleasant landscape had been created, with a circular area of grassland surrounded by forests. There were no passes through the surrounding mountains, the only ways in or out were by flying, teleporting, or by means of a tunnel, guarded at both ends, that ran three hundred miles west to the Great Flat, an area of vast open prairies and one of the largest areas of open grassland in the world.

     There was no perceptible darkening as the red sun sank out of sight behind the mountains. In fact it grew brighter as the yellow sun emerged from behind a thin bank of cloud and Thomas began to feel its heat on his face. The largest moon was a thin crescent almost directly overhead, slightly larger when full than the two suns, and was mostly dark grey with lighter splotches all across its face. It looked rather like a circular blackboard that had been bombarded with snowballs, which was, in fact, a fairly accurate description of what had happened.

     After wandering around for half an hour, Thomas saw Jerry sitting on one of the wooden benches in the herbal garden, the place where the University grew all its own vegetable spell components. He almost left, remembering how their socialising had caused their studies to suffer, but the tiny nome had seen him now and was beckoning him over. It would have been rude to leave now, and besides, it would be good to speak to him again. He'd studied enough for one day. He also needed to be relaxed for the test, and he knew that a chat with Jerry would relax him nicely. "Hi," said the tiny nome as he approached. "You look as if you're trying to solve the meaning of life."

     "Just thinking and things," said Thomas. "I'm trying to stop thinking about this damned test."

     "Don't worry about it," said Jerry. "Look, you've already passed all the parts that you had to pass first time. You get several chances at the last bit so you should be less worried, not more."

     "I know that, but it doesn't help. I must be one of nature's worriers." He sat down next to Jerry, who was swinging his legs and was probably the only person in the whole University small enough to do so. He looked up at Thomas, who was still looking tense and nervous, and decided to take his mind off things by engaging him in conversation.

     He looked around for something to talk about. The garden was about a hundred yards long and half that wide, filling the space between the Alteration building, a three storey structure with thick stone walls and a very few small barred windows, and the Enchantment building, a much more delicate looking structure with impressively decorative architecture and covered all over with a wealth of purely ornamental details. The two buildings, every building in the valley in fact, had obviously been constructed in completely different countries and historical periods, and Jerry had spent a lot of time over the years wondering what their original purposes had been before they'd been taken over by the wizards and brought here.

     The garden was bounded at its north and south ends by high stone walls up which vines and creepers were growing and in which high arched gateways led to neighbouring gardens. It was divided into about a hundred plots, each containing its own collection of rare and valuable herbs and each tended by a third year apprentice, a few of whom were present, busily weeding, digging or carefully taking cuttings. He nudged Thomas and pointed. "That was my one over there."

     "What?" asked Thomas.

     "That's the plot I had to look after, two years ago. The one with the Sopharannan dragontongue bush in the middle. I took a cutting and kept it in my room for several months, until Rhom found out about it and gave me a long, long lecture on how lucky I was to still be alive before taking it away. I had been having some really weird dreams forma while, my roommates too, but I hadn't thought anything of it. My roommates still haven't let me forget it." Thomas chuckled with sympathy.

     “So, which plot did you have?" continued the nome.

     "I didn't have one. There were too many of us for us all to have one, so I was given the job of looking after the pearl beetles. I've still got a shell in my room. Rather safer to possess than a Dragontongue cutting, but still a little naughty of me, so please don't tell anyone."

     Jerry laughed. "Promise,” he said. “Wow! You're rich!"

     "Well, it's not perfect, but I reckon it's worth about a hundred silver crowns. More than that to a wizard, of course."

     "I should say! Can I see it?"

     "I'll show it to you after the test. I reckon I'll sell it when I get back to Ilandia. I'll need the money."

     Jerry nodded. Spellbooks were only the first of the expenses that wizards had to contend with. Most wizards cast spells for a living, charging high prices that very few could afford, but you could only find customers after you had built up a reputation, convinced the mundanes that you weren't just another Externum out to rip them off or destroy half a building with a backfiring spell. It was a vicious circle, because you could only build up a reputation after you had a few satisfied customers behind you. It took either money or influence to break that circle, and many young wizards, having neither, had to give up wizardry and get a proper job.

     "I keep trying to imagine myself as a professional wizard," said Thomas, staring out into empty space. "I mean, me, a wizard! Back home, wizards were, well..." He waved a hand about as he searched for the proper word. "Famous, important people. If there was a wizard living in your town, people came from a hundred miles away to commission artifacts or buy a scroll. Some people came just so they could go home again and say they'd been there! Whenever a wizard goes out in the street people stand and stare as if he's made of solid iron." He shook his head in bafflement. "I've been surrounded by dozens of wizards for five years now and it still gives me a thrill whenever I see one! You know what I mean?" Jerry nodded solemnly. "A wizard!" said Thomas, almost whispering the word. "If I get through this day without screwing it up, I'll be a wizard! I've been telling myself over and over again and I just can't seem to make myself believe it. There's a part of me, a big part, that just doesn't think I'm wizard material. I mean, I can't be a wizard, not me! I'm nobody!"

     "Remember Ellington's lecture..."

     "Yes, yes, I know. All apprentices go through the same thing, and those that don't need to be carefully watched. It doesn't help. Is it really possible that Tragius Demonbinder once sat on this very bench, thinking these same thoughts? He's one of the very best, he must have sailed it, and he must have known he would! He wouldn't have sat here like me, shivering with worry."

     "I bet he did," said the tiny nome. "I bet even the immortal wizards sweated their way through their tests. Remember that half of all wizards die in their first year after graduation. Neither Tragius nor the immortal wizards knew in advance which half they'd be in. For all you and I know, we might be corpses rotting in a ditch within a few months, or we might be world class mages thirty years from now, terrifying a new crop of apprentices."

     Thomas nodded, and tried to picture himself thirty years older. Grey bearded and bent, aged prematurely by the magic that had passed through his body. He tried to imagine people staring at him in wide eyed fear, people deferring to him in respect as if he were in some way more than human, half way to being a god. It was such a ridiculous impossibility that it made him want to laugh out loud. Thomas Gown? Wizard? And yet, before the day was over, that might be precisely what he was! "You don't seem to be having any trouble with the idea," he told the nome, almost accusingly.

     "I just don't let it trouble me. If I'm meant to be a wizard I'll pass the test. If I'm not, I won't. If we pass, we'll have satisfied the greatest authorities in the world that we're worthy to represent the University in the outside world. Who are we to argue with them?"

     Thomas stared at him in astonishment. "I never thought of it like that," he said. "These mighty beings I'm so afraid of, they're the very people who'll grant me the title of wizard if I pass. I've been sort of thinking that I'm pushing my way in, trying to claim titles I'm not entitled to, but..."

     "If they have the slightest doubt as to your worthiness to carry the title of wizard, they'll keep you over for a year," said the nome. "Keep an eye on you, for as long as it takes to make up their minds, one way or another, but they won't. You'll pass. We all will. I know it."

     "Psychic as well, are you?"

     "Absolutely," agreed the nome with a merry chuckle. "It runs in the family." At that moment the sound of a bell drifted over from the direction of the Divination building, the building that contained both the Grand Assembly Hall and the study cubicles, and Thomas gave a start, almost guiltily. Someone who'd seen him jumping like that might have thought he'd been plotting treason. "That's us," he said. "Oh Gods! Here it is!"

     "We'll be okay," repeated Jerry. "Just remember that." Thomas gave a fragile, grateful smile and rose from the bench on trembling legs. "Come on." Jerry jumped down and ran off down the path, and Thomas followed him, trying to swallow with a dry mouth. His nervousness rose full force to the strength of terror and his limbs shook as he walked. It seemed to take forever to reach the building, by which time he was in a pretty bad way, pale and sweating, his eyes darting this way and that as if wondering from which direction the first scream of denouncement and abuse would come.

     They found Lirenna already in the hall, looking cool and self assured near the front of the small crowd, and they went to stand next to her. She seemed amused at seeing Thomas's condition, but tried to calm him down with a few reassuring words. It helped a little, but he still thought that a flock of sparrows was having a fight in his stomach. He tried to do the same thing that had worked before and resign himself to failure. I'm going to fail, he told himself, but it's all right because I'll get another chance. There's no pressure on me. I'm going to be calm and accept my failure. I'll pass next time, but not this time. Not this time. It worked, and the panic subsided. The knots in his muscles untied themselves, the sparrows went to sleep, and his limbs stopped shaking. I'm going to fail, he carried on telling himself, but it's all right. It's not important. I'll get another go.

     Tragius, Rogin and several other teaching wizards, all wearing their testing robes, came in and gave them instructions on which study cubicles to go to and what to do when they got there. As the apprentices filed out, Rogin directed Tragius’s attention to Thomas, Jerry and Lirenna, who were leaving together. "You were right," he said. "It didn't take them long to find each other."

     Tragius smiled. "No," he said. "Soul mates if ever I saw them. They also happen to be the three brightest kids in the year, which will only bind them closer together when they find out. I'm surprised we were able to keep them apart this long."

     "A miracle of timetabling." said Rogin. "Keeping them in separate classes, making sure that only one was out and about at a time while keeping the other two busy in the labs, or so tired out that they stayed in bed. I hope all the effort was worth it."

     "It was." said Tragius. "I've seen it happen so many times in the past. Two or three students find that they're better than the rest and get together to form their own private little club. They spend so much time socialising together that their work suffers and they fall behind. I wasn't going to let that happen to them. The human, Gown. This time last week I was sure he'd graduate with honours, but his casting of the lesser nocumes was sloppy, as if he hadn't cast them for a year. He's slipped that far, just in the few days he's known them. Oh he'll still pass, and I'm sure he'll recover from this temporary lapse as soon as he's put the test behind him, but he'll never have his name engraved on the honours list. A pity."

     Rogin nodded. "Do you think they'll stay together after they've passed?" he asked.

     "Oh yes, no doubt about it. None whatsoever."