He's not actually doing that many spells. He does wheedle tofu into tastiness on a nightly basis, and when he feels a cold coming on he looks up a spell about that, but he wants to know what he's doing before he gets going on what he most wants to be doing, because he wants to be doing big things. He swore to oppose death. He meant that.
Today he is preparing to oppose death in his backyard. It's threatening rain and he doesn't want to be all the way down the street with Leafy if the clouds open up. The jerk tree doesn't talk to him if he doesn't talk to it and it's perfectly serviceable as something to sit under, anyway.
Is the Lone Power known to have any capabilities that would render lots of wizards uncontactable? Do tell, dear manual.
Cam investigates the news. What does the television have to say about things that might render large numbers of wizards very busy?
Cam writes a lot in Grace. About being afraid, unbalanced, trapped with nothing more than his own wits to defend himself. He wants to know more spells. He wants to be able to do more than just talk if anything like that happens again. He may wish to acquire an arsenal of enchanted objects, since there might be cases when he could get at one of those without telegraphing as much as he'll have to in order to utter Speech spells.
And then he looks up spells of protection.
Cam is going to be proof against as many of them as possible, starting with magic and going down a prioritized list based on what freaks him out and what is most likely. He starts with defending himself against magic, then -
"Is mind control a thing? Or mental spying?"
The manual says it's not a common thing, but it's a thing, and there are spells against it. Cam casts one of those. It's kind of tiring. Also, it feels different, like he's not doing something new, just - adding a layer.
The manual, when prompted, says that some people have natural magical affinities for certain things. This particular affinity is not recorded, but nor is it particularly surprising.
All right. He moves on - general anti-physical-injury defense; he doesn't want to get hit by a cement truck and ruin everything; he should really have done this earlier but he wasn't confident in the Speech and didn't feel threatened enough, he supposes.
He's quite tired now.
Is there a danger to magical exhaustion beyond abruptly falling asleep, or can he safely cast things as long as he likes until his ability to talk coherently drops off?
Cam mutters through a tongue-twister to check himself, before moving on to the next spell. It's against diseases. He recites it slowly and carefully and does not mispronounce anything.
But he completely fumbles his next test tongue twister. He closes the manual and pats Gracenote and goes to bed.
But eventually he starts breathing strangely - faster, deeper, trying harder to extract oxygen.
"Cam," says Grace. "CAM!"
Cam's eyes open. The air tastes - wrong, stale - he sits up and hits his head -
"Grace - manual - help -" he chokes out before gasping in another breath.
And if the manual doesn't consider that specific enough instructions Grace shrieks at it, "Read Cam a spell that will let him breathe!"
There's a sound like ripping cloth, and a pair of kids about his age stumble through a glowing hole in the air that seals itself shut behind them.
They're wearing nearly-identical dresses, one in blue and gold with a matching hair ribbon, one in white and red with four fewer inches of skirt. They're both giggling when they appear, but when they see Cam the smiles drop off their faces. The one in blue turns to the window and flings out her arms, speaking a series of crisp syllables that command it to open and a strong breeze to flow into the room. The one in red goes to one knee by the side of Cam's bed, puts both hands on the air-shield, and starts... talking to it.
"What are you doing? You're air! All this hanging around being solid must be so exhausting, look, there's a breeze going, I bet you could be in New Mexico by this time tomorrow if you hurried. Air's supposed to flow. Aren't you bored?"
Apparently all this - delivered in the Speech - is very convincing, because the shield releases and the breeze blows it right out of the room, taking the stale air with it.
Matilda, meanwhile, is still directing the breezes, carefully unraveling her spell to leave the air behaving exactly like normal.
"Last I talked to it, it was trying to tempt me into taking some really vague deal..." Cam manages to say for himself. "Wouldn't describe it as scared. I think. What's it like scared?"
"I'll be fine, just my luck none of the defenses I cast handle suffocation, how did you know I needed help and what is with the Sailor Moon outfits?"
"And the outfits are for fun," says Jellybean. "Duh."
"I don't know who'd want to hide me besides you-know-who. Is it relatively safe to name it, do you know? I haven't been in touch with wizards besides you. No one was home."
"It told me its name was Iggy when it was posing as somebody's orphaned pet rock. Put out the sun? Again?"
"And no one has figured out how to prevent this from being such a systematic problem?" Cam asks, filing away the information that stars are people too.