“I have one more question, Lefroy,” Toadmila said when Gilbert had left to prepare for his wedding, which seemed to require ordering ten new sets of clothes.
Lefroy looked surprise.
“I didn't think the top of our class would need to ask any questions,” he said with a smile.
“It's about a custom spell,” Toadmila said. “You seem to be an expert on that.”
“A custom spell?” Lefroy asked with some interest. “You want to know about something that's not in a book?”
“Well, it should be,” Toadmila said. “But it appears no one wrote it down. Why don't people write new spells down when they invent them?”
“They probably don't know they are new. Most of the spells people invent aren't new, they're just variations of the spells we already have,” Lefroy pointed out. “Most people don't study as much as you do. When they need a spell for something, they just invent one. If you'd studied less, you'd be good at this.”
Toadmila gritted her teeth. After all those years of studying and hard work at the Academy, it was hard to stomach that her job was still below Lefroy's, who'd never done so well in school. And now to be told this.
“Most of these personal spells aren't as good as the ones in the books though,” Lefroy added with a shrug. “They're just difficult to undo unless you know exactly how they were made. So, I'm assuming you want a spell removed?”
“Several,” Toadmila said. “My familiars have spells on them from their previous masters. Transformation spells and eternal youth spells. Remarkable ones.”
Lefroy looked away, appearing absorbed in studying the spines of the books on the nearest shelf.
“If they are that remarkable,” he said, “I'd like to see them. Perhaps we can discover how they are made.”