Page 17 of The Book That Wouldn't Burn

Serra Leetar sighed. “Go on. Don’t you know anything? First table.”

The princess didn’t seem the sort to let others go in front of her. Livira guessed she wanted to see what would happen. Perhaps Serra Leetar didn’t know as much as she’d like others to think. Perhaps even she was nervous.

Livira went forward, suppressing a shiver of her own. The room was much cooler than the square and under her cloak her rags were still damp. She straightened herself up, reaching for her old fire. The defiance that defined her uncoiled in her chest. The same anger that had seen her take Acmar on in a fist fight, the resilience that had had her demand to know if the sabber was going to eat her. She was Livira. Give her an inch and she would take all the miles you owned. She had chosen this door and win or lose she was going to fight for her place.

The first table was bare save for a small wooden frame with five wires stretched left to right, each strung with black beads. A bald, heavyset man sat behind the table, small eyes tracking her progress, mouth puckered as if he’d just bitten a wormy bean. Like the man at the door and the figures behind the other desks, he wore a white robe, though his bore several faint stains on the chest and belly.

Livira came to a halt in front of the table.

“Recite your thirteen times table.”

Livira looked to the other tables. There were only four of them and the man’s words made no sense. She looked past him to the children by the exits. They might be dressed in silks and gold, but their expressions could have been taken from the ring of children who watched Acmar beat her. They could smell the blood to come.

“Divide a hundred and sixty-five by eleven.” The man sounded bored.

“Divide?” Livira knew what the numbers meant.

“Twelve times twenty?”

“Times?”

One of the boys laughed. Not a kind laugh. Livira took it like Acmar’s punch—it hurt—she knew she deserved it—she’d bitten off more than she could chew—but she wasn’t going down without a fight. “Explain.”

The bald man showed a flash of interest at that, leaning forward so his belly folded over the desk. “I’m the one who asks the questions, girl, and you are clearly in the wrong place. I can see the dust behind your ears.”

“Explain what you mean.” Livira stood her ground. “Then we’ll see if I’m in the right place or not.” At any moment she expected someone to take her by the shoulders and turn her back the way she’d come. “I don’t know what this divide means, or this times.”

“Tell it to her in beans!” laughed one of the girls who seemed to have passed all the tests.

“Dusters know all about beans.” A blond boy whose sneer seemed a permanent fixture.

The fat man frowned, pursing his lips in annoyance. “Very well...” He rolled his eyes and made an exasperated gesture with his hand. “If I had thirty-six sacks, each with two hundred and eleven beans in, how many—”

“Seven thousand and five hundred and ninety-six,” Livira said.

The girl who had laughed now snorted.

The white-robe peered at Livira, then with a sigh, picked up the frame with the beads. “You were supposed to use this.” Quicker than the eye he flicked a few of the beads back and forth.

“Ask me another,” Livira said,

“Don’t you want to know if you were right?”

Livira blinked. “How could I be wrong?”

“Share three hundred and seventy-three beans fairly among eight people. How—”

“Forty-six each with five left over.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” The question puzzled her. They were just numbers. It was like being asked which stone was on top of the other. How could you get it wrong?

The man waved her towards the next table.

A woman of middling years sat behind this one, sandy hair tied back in a severe bun, and eyes that suggested her mind might also be tied back in that same no-nonsense manner. A roll of parchment lay on the polished wood before her, next to it a small pot filled with black liquid. A large feather lay beside the pot. To one side four rectangular objects were stacked in a small pile, each the size of two spread hands and an inch or so thick.

“Pick any of the books and start reading.”

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