But Kitty shakes her head. "It is like that," she says. "Where I come from. Anyone can learn, if they've got access to the right books and the right teachers. They give you a test when you're a kid, and if you're found to be clever enough and all that, then the government ask your parents to give you up. And then you get shipped off as an apprentice. And then you learn magic. I could have been one myself - a magician - if they'd thought I was clever enough."
Which stings, and it doesn't sting. Because the fact that she's a commoner - How can you not be bitter and ashamed, knowing that someone came through, picking out the best people of all of them and you weren't one of them? But at the same time, how different would she have been if she had been picked? She'd have ended up like the judge, with her utter lack of compassion - and it's so strange, now, looking on the woman and registering just how young she is. It's likely she's not even ten years older than Kitty. To be that twisted and bitter and cruel before you're even thirty...
The judge breaks apart - gives way to Mr Mandrake. And Mr Mandrake is just a kid. That much is clear, from the spots on his face and his gawky frame, his stupid too-tight suit with its frilly sleeves and his garish handkerchief and his long oily hair - he's barely even old enough to qualify as a teenager. But there's such awful coldness on his face, as he sits and watches - her, Kitty, some ghost of her being led out to be the next one for execution. Standing stiffly as two demons flank her.
"For high treason," Mr Mandrake, the child, is saying, "we should ensure that this sentence is one that lingers." And it's not something that happened, but it came so close, and so Kitty flinches and drops her eyes to the ground. Even though it's fake, it's - terrifying.
"We could learn it too." Her voice is thick. "If we could read. But most of us can't. They want to keep it out of our hands, you see. So there's more ways than just punishment to keep magic away from people."
no subject
Which stings, and it doesn't sting. Because the fact that she's a commoner - How can you not be bitter and ashamed, knowing that someone came through, picking out the best people of all of them and you weren't one of them? But at the same time, how different would she have been if she had been picked? She'd have ended up like the judge, with her utter lack of compassion - and it's so strange, now, looking on the woman and registering just how young she is. It's likely she's not even ten years older than Kitty. To be that twisted and bitter and cruel before you're even thirty...
The judge breaks apart - gives way to Mr Mandrake. And Mr Mandrake is just a kid. That much is clear, from the spots on his face and his gawky frame, his stupid too-tight suit with its frilly sleeves and his garish handkerchief and his long oily hair - he's barely even old enough to qualify as a teenager. But there's such awful coldness on his face, as he sits and watches - her, Kitty, some ghost of her being led out to be the next one for execution. Standing stiffly as two demons flank her.
"For high treason," Mr Mandrake, the child, is saying, "we should ensure that this sentence is one that lingers." And it's not something that happened, but it came so close, and so Kitty flinches and drops her eyes to the ground. Even though it's fake, it's - terrifying.
"We could learn it too." Her voice is thick. "If we could read. But most of us can't. They want to keep it out of our hands, you see. So there's more ways than just punishment to keep magic away from people."