As we landed at the circle site, I wriggled in excitement. My mother scolded me to stand still so she could get the flying harness unbuckled. Once I was free, I skipped toward the gathering crowd ahead . . . but then I saw the "children" who would be my circlemates, and I grabbed for Mommy's hand. Some of them looked to be twice my height!

       "Where are all the younger kids?" I asked. But Mommy didn't hear me over the din. When we reached a circle of log benches we stopped walking, and I tugged on my mother's dress so that she couldn't ignore me anymore. She had to stoop down to hear my question because all the students and their parents were making an awful racket.

       "Mommy, isn't anyone my age coming here?"

       "Honey, you know most fairies start circle around age ten."

       My face crumpled. A ten-year-old was quite a bit bigger in person than in my mind's eye. Even if Mommy was going to be sitting close by, I didn't want to be abandoned to this pool of big kids.

       "But can't there be a class just for . . . littler kids?"

       "It is unusual for there to be even one six-year-old, Delia. You already know this." In fact, this group had only lowered its age limit to accept six-year-olds in the last thirty years, and it was the only one that did so in the Belkin village limits. I knew I was supposed to feel special, but I felt more like an obvious oddball. A tiny little freak of nature that everyone would scowl at and wonder about. Tears came to my eyes.

       My mother finally realized that I was upset beyond just plain disorientation, and she made soothing sounds as she tried to calm me down, but now I felt embarrassed being the only student with her mother hovering around her. Despite that, I didn't want to let go of her hand.

       "See there, honey, there is a boy you know, little Jasper. Do you see him?" She pointed at a boy who looked vaguely familiar.

       "I think I played with him before."

       "Yes, well. I asked your teachers about other young students, and they said he would be the next youngest in your circle."

       The boy had seen my mother point and was looking at us warily—his narrowed eyes seemed quite a height above my own. "How old is he?" I asked suspiciously.

       "He is but nine years old."

       I stamped my foot. "Nine?" That was nowhere near my age. My mother didn't understand. And I could tell most of the others were ten, eleven, twelve, the oldest of them already showing signs of transition to adulthood. Young men and women! In my class! I felt I'd been ready to learn magick for years, but compared to these big kids, I was nothing but a baby! How could I hope to equal these fairies in my magickal studies?

       "Mommy—Mom, I don't know if I can. . . ." I trailed off, trying to remain calm.

       "If you can what?"

       "Be here, come here . . . maybe I should've waited? 'Til I'm older? I think I might be . . . not ready."

       My mother laughed, and at first I thought she was laughing at me until I noticed she was emanating a light amusement mixed with a shade of relief—not mocking at all. "Delia," she said, "I find it hard to believe I just heard those words come out of your mouth. You have been harassing me nonstop about going to circle since you were in nappies, and now you want to wait some more? Where did my big girl go?" She tickled me a little, making me squirm. "Where is she, is she hiding in there?"

       My mother's confidence made a home in my own heart. It was true—if I went home and shelved my education now, it would only be a matter of hours before my curiosity would come back in full force. I did want this; I wanted to finally start learning this craft that would become my life. I wasn't a baby. It was time to stop acting like one.

       I took a deep breath and let it out. "Mommy, I think I'm not scared anymore. You can leave."

       She replied with a smile so big I couldn't see her eyes anymore, then bent and kissed me on the cheek. "I will be with all the other mommies and daddies. You be brave now! I know you will make me proud."

       My mother disappeared into the sea of swishing dresses and sparkly wings. I swallowed hard and put on my best confident expression, hoping my emotions would match my face soon enough.

       Our group of soon-to-be-students was gathering around the low stage as our parents made their way to their distant seating. My breath quickened as I looked at the wealth of open space around me. It was a fairly big clearing in the woods—too large to be natural. I hoped most of the actual instruction would take place in the smaller tree-canopied "rooms" I'd seen from the air along the way. A place this big seemed so impersonal, though the seats were arranged in four circular rows which would enable us to see each other more easily. I took a front seat on a simple log bench like some of the others, trying not to sit too close to anyone. I stared at my lap and tried to stop my blushing.

       My attention snapped up when a tall, thin fairy woman with her silver hair in a ribbon-bound bun took the stage, trailed by several other lady teachers. I stared at them in wonder, imagining how important they were going to be in my journey toward becoming a competent magick user. These people were going to change me so much! I couldn't wait to start learning from them.

       "Good morning parents, teachers, and new students," said the elderly silver-haired fairy, resting her hands on the podium in front of her. "Welcome to West Belkin Circle, Spiral Eighty-Eight. I am your headmistress. You will address me as ‘Headmistress.'" I blinked. Didn't she have a name?

       From there, the headmistress presented the lower mistresses, whose names were lost to me in the blur of introductions. When roll call began and I stood to answer "here" to my name, whispers broke out. The headmistress paused.

       "Are you by any chance Gena Morningstar's daughter?" asked another teacher, a plump and pretty woman with a light voice and a blue dress. I turned in surprise to face her. No one else had been questioned about their parents.

       "That's right," I said, trying to ignore the whispers.

       "Wonderful," she said. "I taught your mother in her circle days. I trust you will follow in her footsteps by being a joy to teach?"

       Happiness bubbled up in me. "I hope," I said. I would never be as marvelous as my mother, of that I was sure, but it helped to know that this teacher had faith in my abilities.

       "Awful young though, aren't you?" asked the headmistress, and my spirits fell a little.

       "I'm six! They said I could join when I was six. I'm old enough."

       "Yes, child, well we shall see how you keep up."

       I wanted to tell her I'd been doing magick since before I could have a conversation, but I just sat down and let her resume the roll call. When the introductions were over we listened to a lecture about times and places and policies. Every student got a schedule card, and some of the words on mine were unfamiliar. Did the teachers assume I could read? They must be expecting my non-magickal abilities to rise to the challenge. I made up my mind to study reading more at home.

       Finally the formalities tapered off, and the gathering melted into a reception, where we got berry punch and nice little iced cakes. I threaded through the crowd but couldn't find my mother. There were too many people around, distracting me with their energy; I couldn't isolate my mother's familiar life force anywhere.

       One of the teachers found me wandering aimlessly and stopped next to me. This lady hadn't spoken during the presentation, but I liked something about her presence, and I was intrigued by all the bead jewelry she wore—even her golden curls were encased in a beaded net. I was as high as the waist of her skirt, so the respectful tone she used while addressing me seemed very odd.

       "It's little Delia! Well, welcome to our circle," she said. I accepted the welcome impolitely through a mouthful of cake and did my curtsy. "You know, I want you to know something important, since you're so young," she continued, stooping down in a way that somehow didn't seem condescending. Her necklaces clinked together. "If you have any trouble with the other children, please come to me and I'll take care of it. I know how easy it is to become a bully's target. I started circle very early myself, just like you, so I always watch out for the little ones."

       I looked at her gratefully, licking icing off my lips. "Thank you, Mistress. What do I call you again? I forgot everybody's name."

       The mistress laughed and told me to call her Mistress Grayhawk. I asked her how old she'd been when she'd started using magick.

       "I cast purposeful magick at age six," she said, sounding proud. "Our family's cow had a calf that almost died during its breech birth. I was able to coax it back to life."

       "Oh," I murmured. That sounded like nice magick. I'd never done anything heroic with mine.

       "What about you?"

       I took a big breath. "I did it when I was really little. I used magick to kill a bee when I was two."

       Mistress Grayhawk blinked. "Two years old? Then surely you just had an accident, like we all do when we're little . . . ?"

       "Oh. Well the bee was kind of an accident but I could do other things after that too."

       She was silent, shifting on her bent knee. Then she spoke up: "What sort of other things could you do?"

       I told her about the last few years, experimenting on water, ice, and everything else. Recently I'd realized I also held some influence over fire. Since I could add and remove heat when dealing with water, it had only been a small step to try the same technique with solid objects, setting them on fire or cooking them as I wished, or stopping fires when they were lit. I told Mistress Grayhawk about my newest developments in actually controlling the fire once I'd made it, describing how careful I had to be when shaping flames.

       "Goodness, are you sure about that? You can really do all of those things without ever going to circle?"

       "Yes, I did it all myself."

       "Could you show me something? I've never heard of a child so young with elemental influence like that."

       "I can show you. See?" I held out my hand and squeezed the reasonably damp air with my magick until I was holding a puddle of water.

       "Well, isn't that just something!" she exclaimed. "All that and you've never wielded a wand! Has your mother taught you these techniques?" She almost seemed suspicious underneath all the outward excitement.

       "My mommy didn't teach me . . . she tells me not to do it."

       "So she prefers you don't use magick at all?"

       "Yes, she always said wait for circle." The teacher watched me turn my handful of water into an icicle, which I used to stir my too-warm punch.

       My mother found me not too long after that, and soon the meeting began to break up. I parted ways with Mistress Grayhawk, who seemed a bit less friendly after having been disturbed by the easy way I handled my abilities. I hoped the other children wouldn't think I was strange because of my magick's early manifestation, but I was very, very ready to rise to the challenge.