"No," Pologne said. "I mean, I wouldn't live in a sixth-floor walkup because no elevator means it's a dump. Right?"
Markie groaned. "Think of it in more general terms. You can apply those rules to any situation. You already know what you think of as an acceptable scenario. Let's dissect the state of mind which led you not to be in that apartment in the first place. You want a place to live. You assess where you need to be, what geographical points you need to be near. Add in your personal level of risk, balance that against your cash in hand, tolerance of noise and other nuisances, and so on. That will kick out a list of things you can avoid while still leaving the field open for the greatest number of viable choices, including some you might not have considered at the outset. When you leave out the undesirable factors, only your personal prejudices and preconceived notions would prevent you from seeing all the possibilities."
"Ah," Jinetta said. "When you break down the analysis in those terms, we understand it."
Markie whistled. "Finally! Do you see? The idea is not to leave yourself without options in any situation. Choosing an apartment is a scenario you can take at your own pace. Now, let's move up to one where you don't have as much time to make a decision. That's what I was trying to get you to do. Assess the situation with a cool head, and move quickly in response. You know the old saying, 'he who hesitates is lost'?" The students nodded. "That statement is true most of the time. It only means life and death once in a while. It can be simpler than that. If there is, say, only one item of value to be had, or one opportunity to be taken, and you have a rival for either, then allowing your rival to move first is essentially letting him or her choose the battleground. Make the first approach, and you will win. Most of the time."
"Like when there's only one slice of pizza left," Melvine said flippantly.
Markie looked impatient at her nephew's interruption, but she nodded. "Define a contest on your terms. I assume most of you, like Pologne, have some kind of protection, magikal or otherwise?"
"Of course!" Tolk exclaimed.
"Keep it as a last resort. Magik and weapons are limited options. Your brain is your most valuable and reusable commodity. Don't waste your resources or your allies. You might need them later."
"Allies?" Freezia asked. "Skeeve is always hammering away about allies. He doesn't much say how to do it on your own."
"That's because it's a lot harder to get by on your own," Markie said. "I work alone. I get paid top dollar for my services because I deal in a difficult field with considerable expertise, entirely as a solo act. It would be a lot easier if I had allies, but in my job they are not only hard to find, but a liability."
"Just what IS it you do?" Jinetta asked, curiously. "Kill people?"
"Hardly ever. Never mind what I do; I'm telling you how I think. If I'm echoing anything Skeeve says, then maybe you should listen to both of us. Otherwise, what are you wasting my time for?"
"I hope we're not wasting your time, Miss Markie," Bee said politely. "I see a thread running through the lessons. But when I go home, I'm gonna be working by myself as a village magician. I've got to know the best choices to make, because I'm gonna have to make 'em without help."
"Take the big picture. What is going to help me live to a ripe, old, healthy, stinking rich age?' Try not to tell me you're not thinking in that direction, because everyone except saints do, and saints are a very small proportion of the population, in my experience. You want the best possible outcome for the long run. Then refine it all the way down to the small picture, to that action you need to take at that moment in order to get to the big picture. Sound hard?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"It gets easier and faster to make those decisions after a while, once you've refined your priorities. And just because you choose those priorities doesn't mean you can't change them." She glanced up at me, almost shyly. "I have."
"But how do you practice making quick decisions?" Jinetta asked.
Markie grinned. "I thought you would never ask."
"Come on!" Markie cried, beckoning with both tiny hands. "Don't stand there taking turns like a lot of well-mannered movie ninjas! Jump in! There's only one of a kind! Get them before I can! Kettle! Flower pot! Face powder! Poker!"
It was on my lips to ask what a 'movie ninja' was, when I had to duck or get beaned by the fireplace poker flying through the air toward the waiting hands of Pologne. Tolk leaped up to snag it in his teeth. Bee forestalled him by diving to the floor underneath it.
"Dispell!" he shouted.
The poker dropped toward his waiting hands.
With a wicked grin, I twitched the poker away. ? "Ha-HA!" I chortled.
"No fair!" Bee said, but he was grinning, too.
"Too late!" Markie cried, having secured both the flower pot and the kettle in spite of the others' best efforts. She planted her small form in front of them. "Now, get the item when I call your name. Freezia, basket! Tolk, wood! Bee, pen! Melvine, armchair!"
Tolk galloped to snag a piece of wood off the pile beside the huge fireplace. Bee pointed at the pen on the little table near the front door. His face ran with sweat. The quill wobbled into the air and started to crawl towards him. Freezia simply ran over and snatched it out of the air. She stuck her tongue out at the young soldier. Bee never hesitated, but ran to tug the chair down out of Melvine's hands. The Cupy guy swung in the air like a grumpy pinata.
"You jerk, that's mine!"
"It's yours if you can hang onto it."
"Mine!" Markie sang out. While they were arguing, she snagged it with a thread of magik. It joined the growing pile of household goods behind her.
Just as quickly, I reached for the kettle, sitting forgotten on the floor. It caught Markie's leg. She went flying.
"Opportunity!" I shouted.
Jinetta's eyes went wide. "Everybody! Now!"
The class rushed toward the heap of possessions. Things started to leap around as a few of the apprentices employed levitation, gusts of wind and ropes of power to yank them toward one student or another. Pologne had armloads of items piled into the basket. Bee and Jinetta glared at each other over a teddy bear. I got into the fray with the rest of them. I grabbed the flower pot and tucked it under my arm while I air-lifted the armchair, a box of candy, ten books and a cushion.
"Gonna do some reading?" Tolk grinned at me as he seized the cushion in his teeth. "Rrrrr-rr!"
"Gimme that!"
"No way!"
While we engaged in a tug of war, someone relieved me of the candy and the flower pot. I let go of the cushion to fly a footstool, a retort and a stuffed beniguana to me. Freezia charged me to take the beniguana. I managed to juggle the booty in the air while keeping her at bay. Melvine got into a war of the weather with his aunt. The two of them turned into whirlwinds that careened around the room, vacuuming up items. The rest of us just tried to stay out of their way.
The younger Cupy was by far the more aggressive. He kept trying to back his aunt into corners. Markie outmaneuvered him, the tip of her miniature tornado flicking past him just when he thought she was trapped.
"Aarrgh!" he grunted, backing up several feet. "It's clobbering time!"
The Cupy doll skated insouciantly around the room, sucking up a hatstand here, a pail there. She deposited them with the others then settled in front of the heap to guard it. Melvine's tornado seemed to gather itself in a coil like a snake, and drove straight past her, heading for the stash.
"No!" Markie's voice called, from the center of the driving winds. "Don't cross the streams!"
Too late! Melvine's contrail intersected with his aunt's. The tornadoes spiraled around one another in a braid that staggered blindly around the room. In the confusion, the face powder was knocked open, blinding all of us.