"Head Cold" by Jenny Olivera

"Noxtre ve tuli os siktin..." At least that's what I tried to say. It came out more like "Dogte be duli os sibbin." I cursed my cold and blew my nose for what must have been the tenth time that morning. I needed a new handkerchief. I also needed to lose this cold. This would happen the morning of my wizardry test.

This wouldn't be a problem if I'd taken up sorcery instead. Sorcerers don't have to worry about how they pronounce things. Neither do Witches. I had to take up the one magic art where I have to say the words exactly right or the spell could miscast. I don't even want to think about that.

I tried again: "Dobtre ve duli..."

I groaned and just gave up. Maybe the judges wouldn't mind if I accidently blew up the hall.

I heard someone chuckle behind me and turned to see one of the High Wizards, probably here to escort me to my test. I hadn't even heard her come in. "Bit of a head cold, hm?" she asked. I nodded guiltily and blew my nose. Again. "Well, don't worry about it. We'll just reschedule your test. These things happen after all," she added after seeing my disbelieving (and grateful) look.

"Um," I started before she could leave. "Whad do we do whed id's something we cadd, um, reschedule?"

"You mean, like if you were on the battlefield?" I nodded, and she smiled. "That's why so many of us carry wands and enchanted gems. But if that's not an option, you take the risk of miscasting - or you run. We'll reschedule for next week."