Page 175 of A Tower of Half-Truths
Alain volunteered to handle Aganast’s remains. The trunk in which Aganast had stored his life’s work became his coffin. Alain and Mavery, each carrying one end of the trunk, followed Nox into the forest, back to the cabin blanketed with asphodel. Nox instructed them to place the trunk in the same spot where Ellicehad exhumed the anchor and then buried it again. Now that they lacked both a shovelanda mender, Mavery wondered how they would manage “a proper burial.”
As Nox approached the trunk, the air filled with the aroma that she now knew was ktonic magic. Slowly, the trunk sank into the ground. White petals fluttered in the breeze, like hundreds of tiny heads bowing in reverence.
Mavery had expected Nox to deliver a eulogy, or to spare a few moments to mourn. But once his spell was complete, he turned back to the tower in silence. She supposed he’d had plenty of time to grieve his master’s death; this burial was simply a long overdue formality.
She and Alain were also silent as they followed the ktona. Not that there was much theycouldhave articulated. If her head was reeling from all these revelations, she couldn’t imagine how Alain felt.
When they returned to the tower once again, Mavery finally appreciated the grandeur of the ruin they’d uncovered. In the early afternoon sun, its shadow just barely touched the trap-laden field. Beneath the mud and substrate were gray stone and a glimmer of stained glass windows. Once the next rainstorm washed away all the grime, Aganast’s tower would be not quite as stately as the towers at the University, but it would be an impressive sight all the same.
“It’s a shame you have to hand this over,” she said. “You uncovered it. You ought to decide what happens to it.”
“It is,” Alain said with a nod. “Alas, I’m duty-bound.”
“What do you think they’ll do with it?”
He shrugged. “If a ruin has ties to someone of importance, the High Council usually preserves it as a historical site. But seeing as we’ve removed everything that would identifythistower’s owner, they’ll probably destroy it. I doubt any of the Elder Wizards will want to keep it for themselves.”
“What about you?”
Alain looked at her. “Me?”
“Wouldyouwant to keep the tower for yourself?”
He laughed. “And do what with it, exactly? Surely you’re notsuggesting welivehere?”
“Gods, no! But once you resign from the University, you’ll no longer need to confine yourself to Leyport. Not to mention, you’ll need a new project. Why not letthisbe it?”
She gestured at the tower, then realized her hands were still covered in Nox’s blood. As Alain pondered her idea, she pulled her canteen from her pack and wet her hands. The dried blood on her skin washed off easily enough, but the black gunk beneath her fingernails proved more stubborn. She couldn’t wait to return to the village and spend the rest of the afternoon in a hot bath.
Before she could daydream about that, a clap of thunder sounded in the distance. A second later, Mavery’s head erupted in pain. She recoiled as a powerful wave of arcana crashed against her, reverberated through her bones. Somewhere nearby, Nox hissed. She didn’t need their connection to know he felt the effects as strongly as she did.
“A portal spell,” Alain said. “The High Council is here.”
Fifty-Two
With Nox at their side, Alain and Mavery crossed the field and approached three robed figures. The one leading the way was a tall man sporting a long white beard. Though Mavery couldn’t see his face from this distance, she recognized him by his bearing alone.
“The Archmage himself decided to pay us a visit.”
“So it seems,” Alain said. “I’ll handle this.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded as he squeezed her hand, then released it and walked forward. Seringoth trudged through the grass, flanked by two of the male Elder Wizards. His intense gaze left an uneasy feeling in Mavery’s stomach, but knowing he hadn’t brought the Mystic along was a small comfort.
“Archmage,” Alain said, bowing his head. “What brings you to this corner of Osperland?”
“I believe you already know the answer to that question,” Seringoth said tersely. “Late this morning, the High Council received word from Highillen University about an unusually high surge of arcane activity, followed by a half-dozen reports of an earthquake in this area—the first in over a century. We could not let such reports go without a thorough investigation.” Arms crossed, he turned to the tower. “So, Aventus, it appears you are the oneresponsible for cracking the mystery of the Innominate Temple.”
“Yes, Archmage, though it seems the ‘temple’ was a wizard’s tower all along.” He chuckled weakly, then cleared his throat. “And I couldn’t have done it without Ms. Culwich’s help.”
Seringoth and the other two wizards spared Mavery a split-second glance before returning their attention to the tower. Mavery suppressed a scoff.
“Have you investigated this tower?” Seringoth asked.
“Most thoroughly, Archmage. Using the same Sensing spell we presented to the High Council last week, we located the anchor that had powered its protections, and we disabled the fabrication that had buried the majority of the tower underground.
“Unfortunately, there is nothing of note inside, other than a long-abandoned library. None of the books identify the tower’s original owner, nor do they appear to have any scholarly merit.”
