Page 16 of A Tower of Half-Truths
Mavery gaped at him. She’d always known her abilities were rare, but no one had ever told her they werethatrare.
“The last Senser in Osperland,” Aventus said, “was Deventhal the Fifth, and he died about thirty years ago. He was a reclusive one, even by wizard standards. He rarely left his tower, never hired a single assistant. So, to have a Senser show up at my door, you can see why I’m eager to ask questions.”
“Then ask away.”
“What do you Sense, exactly? Colors, scents,anything. The more specific, the better.”
Mavery began by explaining how she’d identified the different wards on his door by color, before delving into other Schools of Magic. She spoke for nearly half an hour. Aventus feverishly took notes, only stopping once his fountain pen ran dry. At that point, he paused the interview to return to his desk and search for his inkwell. As his search progressed, paper-shuffling and drawer-slamming grew increasingly more frantic.
“I swear I left the blasted thing here,” he grumbled. “Can’t find another pen, either.”
“May I make a suggestion?” Mavery asked. Here was an opportunity if she ever saw one, but she couldn’t soundtooeager. He gave up on his cluttered desk and turned to her.
“Yes?”
“I know you said you weren’t looking for an assistant, but fromwhat I can tell, you could use a little help around here.”
Aventus slowly gazed around the room, as if noticing its disordered state for the first time. Slouching his shoulders, he groaned.
“Loath as I am to admit it, you’re right. The ‘independent approach’ to research hasn’t been very fruitful—unless my goal was developing a book-hoarding habit.” He laughed flatly. “If that were the case, I would say I’ve been a resounding success.”
“Believe it or not, I can relate to that.” Mavery gave him a small smile. “May I ask why you don’t have an assistant? Not to be crass, but is it a matter of money?”
“No, not at all. My reasons are…personal.”
He picked his way across the piles of books and slumped into his armchair. As he scratched his bearded chin with his blackened fingers, Mavery could almost see the thoughts buzzing inside his head. A moment passed before he spoke again.
“If your goal is to become a wizard, I should warn you: I’m one of the last people you’d want to work for. I’ve barely the capacity to conduct my own research these days, much less be any sort of mentor for yours.”
“Oh, that’s no problem at all. I’m not looking to become a wizard. I was thinking I could tidy up your books, and you can ask me anything about my Sensing abilities.”
“A tempting offer, though one I can’t help but notice weighs heavily inmyfavor. What wouldyougain from this arrangement?”
“Remember how I said I’ve been out of academic circles for a while? Well, I’m looking for a way to dip my toes back in. Seeing as I’m a natural Gardemancer—”
“Innate,” he corrected.
“AninnateGardemancer,” she said through another forced smile, “this seemed like a good fit. And, of course, I wouldn’t work for free.”
“Nor would I expect you to. I paid my last assistants eighty potins per week, if that sounds reasonable.”
“Very reasonable.” She hadn’t a clue if it actually was, but for that amount of money, she could overlook the wizard’s lack of social graces.
“Well, then, I’m open to giving this arrangement a trial run.Let’s give it a week. I’ll even pay your wages in advance. Take some time to get settled in Leyport, then return here on Onisday at, let’s say, nine in the morning.”
He stood up, and Mavery followed him to the desk. From one of the drawers, Aventus retrieved a billfold and counted out eight ten-potin notes. She pocketed them without hesitation. She had expected a cheque, which would leave a paper trail in the event she didn’t fulfill her end of the bargain. By paying her upfront in cash, he either trusted her completely, or he didn’t care about losing his money. Assuming he had something worth stealing, he was shaping up to be the perfect mark.
“I’ll see you in a few days,” he said, opening the door.
“Until then.” She gave him a nod and, by virtue of the eighty potins in her pocket, a smile that was almost genuine.
Five
He pressed his forehead to the closed door. He was exhausted in a way he could scarcely remember feeling. His mind reeled, his hand ached from that bout of frenzied writing. His throat was raw from speaking the most he’d spoken to another person in…gods, he couldn’t even remember how long.
His conversation with Mave had been far from a perfect example of human communication. But it had gone better than he would have anticipated, had he anticipatedanythingof interest happening today—a visitor, least of all.
Upon hearing the knock at his door, he’d wondered whether he would find one of the Elder Wizards of the High Council, if not the Archmage himself, standing on the other side of it. Instead, he’d found a woman with striking green eyes and an air of quiet determination about her. At first, he’d assumed he’d been on the receiving end of another of Declan’s pranks; his colleaguewouldbe the type to use an attractive woman to lure a reclusive wizard from his cave. But Mave was just an ordinary mage.
