No one asks Ione any questions though Asmodia attempts to read her mind. 

The book has an orderly list of heuristics for telling what the unobservable dimensions of magic are doing. Most of their activities that you have to worry about for low-circle spells are being attracted or repelled by other magic nearby them, or having momentum of their own once tugged on indirectly by tugging on an observable dimension. The strongly recommended way to handle this, as a new wizard, is to practice with small tweaks until you get a feel for it; some people report success trying to imagine and explicitly track what the other dimensions are doing, but most don't, and it becomes practically impossible to do a fully-encompassing version of as you approach higher-circle spells. There are a couple interactions to explicitly track, starting at first circle: they are such-and-such. There are twice as many at second circle. 

Ione Sala makes her Will save, glances to see if Keltham is looking, and then flashes a kindly smile at the girl with half her own combined caster circles.  Asmodia is lucky she failed so miserably, her feeble mind would probably crumble if she succeeded in peeking into the thoughts of an oracle of Nethys.

She's going to get piled under later and it's going to last for a while.  She may as well live it up briefly now.

This... plausibly is going to help, Keltham feels more oriented by knowing what's going on in the background and what kind of surface effects to look for, being caused by what, even if he can't do math to it.  Maybe it's a weird vestigial dath ilani security blanket thing but Keltham feels less like he's flailing around in empty air and more like he's flailing around in air that has visible objects in it.

"I'm reaching the edge of how much stamina I allocated to spend on this.  I think next the plan says I try to cast -"  Keltham has to think back on which spells he actually has.  Shit, he didn't think to use Eagle's Splendor while interacting with Lrilatha, which was almost certainly what that spell was for... oh well.  He can use the two spells one of which is Eagle's Splendor (not as important here) and one of which is Owl's Wisdom, then have security cast Haste on him, then cast Guidance and try to catch it, then try to catch Read Magic - he thinks that was the plan they came up with this morning.  "Well, I get some spells cast on me and then try to catch my remaining cantrips.  How long do Owl's Wisdom and Haste last, respectively?"

"Owl's wisdom is up to two minutes per caster circle," the girls chorus, distracted from their meaningful glaring at each other. "And Haste is up to two rounds per caster circle."

"Right, so Owl's Wisdom first, then.  Can somebody call in whoever's doing Haste, before I do?  And somebody please show me the gestures to catch Read Magic again."

Yaisa goes to the door and opens it and returns with the nearest visible security wizard; everyone else demonstrates how to catch Read Magic.

Keltham, somewhat hesitantly, tries casting his first mind-boosting magic that affects himself, given to him by his unknown but hopefully friendly god.  The spell Carissa identified as Transmutation, similar to the structure of what Carissa showed him for intelligence-boosting.  The one that seems more like it should be Owl's Wisdom, going on either tiny intuition or sheer blind guessing passing itself as tiny intuition.

It does something -

"That's Eagle's Splendour," Meritxell beats everyone else to saying. "It does charisma."

This is truly odd.  Something that Keltham has been doing his whole life, without really focusing on it that much, became weirdly much easier.  He's aware of his posture, what his posture is saying, how he could change it to project different emotions outward.  He knows - what he could say, to express these thoughts, or even to lie - but exactly because of that, it feels much more like any words he said would be something like a lie, a pose, at least until he became used to this state and it became more natural.  He could fling his arms wide and announce how overjoyed he is, and make it look real, or speak with quietly subdued enthusiasm, and make that look real, but Keltham does not know, under this spell, how to do anything that is real.

Eh, might as well go all in while it lasts.

"This is really rather odd," Keltham says with a more charming smile than any girl here, or indeed, anyone in greater existence, has seen on his face before.  "But distracting from magic, I fear.  I hope I am not taking too much of security's valuable time if I ask them to bide a short while before Hasting me, until this wears off; no more than eight minutes should it be, and maybe less."  Interesting how 'dashing gentleman' Baseline rhythms are coming out in Taldane; he hopes it's at all accurate and not just silly.

"Of course," says the nearest visible security-person, smiling. The spell provides no particular aid in interpreting his smile aside from making it apparent that smiles are a thing one can do in subtly different ways on purpose for subtly different results.

"I do not know if I will ever request this spell from my god again, and foolish as I am, I forgot to think of this contingency earlier - but does anyone have any simple exercises for me to perform, in the realm of acting and emoting?  I'd gain skills and experience, if I could, before this spell fades."

"Pretend to be a duke receiving your idiot son who just got in trouble for rhinocerous racing in the streets," says Tonia. "Meritxell's the idiot son."

Meritxell takes this in stride, and bows. "Father."

Duke sounds vaguely big and authoritative.  Company president?  Very Serious person?

Keltham shifts his bearing older and more dignified, and sorrowful with a hint of frustration.  "Son.  Rhinocerous racing again?  Really?"

"It's not like last time, Father. Last time, I fully acknowledge, I was irresponsible and caused a lot of property damage which was rightly taken out of my allowance. This time, we stayed off Queen's Avenue entirely, and only knocked over one carriage. And furthermore, it wasn't my idea, Callisto challenged me, and I did not think I'd be doing right by you and the name you've honored me with, if I refused and had him name me a coward."

Keltham's total ignorance of vast amounts of context is almost completely unable to interfere with his acting momentum!  "Son, has it ever occurred to you that there is a certain irony, or comedy even, in letting yourself be put into self-destroying situations for fear of being called a coward?  I name you meta-coward now."

Meritxell heroically manages to keep a straight face at that. "Father! Should we embrace every injury to our name rather than falsify them?"

"And what, do tell, is this injury to our name, this proposition untrue, which could not possibly hold in any world in which you raced rhinoceruses, and so was decisively refuted by your acts?"

"That I was afraid to race rhinocerouses!!"

"Son, your logic, while possessed of a certain local validity, lacks an appreciation of greater contexts.  Are you afraid to take half your earnings, and set them aflame?"

"- well, not if they're in gold, sir!"

Er, right.  "Gold melts if the flame is hot enough.  Anything melts if the flame is hot enough.  Do you see where I'm leading with this, my son?"

"You're going to light me on fire if I do this again?"

With Eagle's Splendour running, Keltham doesn't crack up at this.  "I am saying, son, that like a sufficiently hot fire, the notion of proving oneself unafraid to do things has a certain dangerous generality.  How about if, in the future, you prove yourself unafraid of refusing to do things to prove yourself unafraid of them?"

" - yes, Father. Okay, pretend to be a thief casing a magic shop to learn its protections before you rob it, and Ione, you're a shopkeeper who is trying to figure out whether he's going to make a purchase and whether you'll offend anyone powerful kicking him out."

This is, of course, a substantial social favor to Ione, though there's no indication of that in Meritxell's gesture; she might've chosen a classmate at random. 

...Meritxell thinks Ione has got secret connections and/or magical bloodlines going for her, rather than HERESY, and Ione is going to pay for this later but for this one golden moment she'll take it for everything it has.

"Good evening, sir," Ione says graciously, standing up from her chair.  "Can I interest you in a slightly used mud golem?"  She gestures at Asmodia.  "It isn't pretty but that doesn't mean it lacks all possible use."