Page 21 of A Tower of Half-Truths
“I had nochoice.The High Council tired of you ignoring their letters. I receivedthisalmost two weeks ago.”
The room fell silent. Mavery had to press her ear to the crack between the door and its frame to hear what followed: paper being crumpled into a ball, then thrown against something with force.
“You understand now, yes?” Aventus’s mother asked. “I was only trying to help.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“You and your stubbornness! It is why your assistants resigned, why you have turned away every—”
“Can we not talk about this now?”
“Why not? What are you doing that is more important?”
“I was—”
“Is there someone here?”
“Er…no?” he said. “Why would you think that?”
“You are hiding something.”
“What are you talking about?”
His mother did not answer. Instead, heeled shoes clacked across the floorboards.
“Where are you going?”
A door opened. The one to the bedroom, Mavery assumed. Aventus and his mother argued back and forth in Dauphinian, until the door slammed shut and he reverted to Osperlandish.
“You’ll find nothingin the kitchen, Mother!”
Mavery sighed. Though she appreciated the warning, she would have preferred a more subtle one.
She backed against the wall and made a hugging motion to call the shadows to her. As she wrapped them around herself like a blanket, her arms trembled, and the scent of ash prickled her lungs. She held her breath, lest she cough and defeat the purpose of shrouding herself.
Spellcasting was a bit like speaking a foreign language, even when there was no Etherean involved. Warding magic was like Mavery’s mother tongue. Despite not knowing any incantations, nor the inner workings of its mechanics, the magic still felt intuitive. Shadow magic was like a language she dabbled in only occasionally. She could stumble through it and achieve something that, though it lacked nuance, still had the desired effect. But even the simplest spells took a great deal of focus, and no one would ever mistake her for a “native speaker.”
The kitchen door opened, and Mavery’s gut reaction was that this woman could not possibly be the wizard’s mother. Aventus had her pallid complexion and dark eyes, but their similarities endedthere. The woman was shorter than Mavery, even in heels, but her raised chin and perfect posture gave the illusion of someone much taller. She wore a high-necked dress the same shade as the amethysts dangling from her ears, and her silver hair was pulled into an elegant bun.
Aventus appeared behind her. His grimace relaxed as he looked in Mavery’s direction. He must have noticed a flicker in her faltering shroud, or glimpsed her own grimace as her arms grew weaker by the second. He gave her a subtle nod, then took his mother by the arm and attempted to steer her back to the sitting room.
“See? There’s nothing here. Do you believe me now, or shall we start tearing up the floorboards?”
Refusing to budge, she narrowed her eyes. “I still think you are hiding something. Or someone.”
“Nonsense. Why don’t you take a seat on the sofa, and I’ll fix you a cup of your favorite jasmine tea.”
“Ah, that was it! I sawtwoteacups on the table. Thereissomeone here!”
“No, I… That was from—”
“Aventus, tell me the truth. Now.”
Mavery swore under her breath; the shadows had finally slipped from her grasp. Aventus’s mother flinched as Mavery appeared out of thin air. Once she’d recovered from the surprise, she shot them both a smug look, which promptly morphed into disgust as she took in Mavery’s appearance.
“Oh, Aventus.” She clicked her tongue. “I knew you needed company, but a streetwalker?”
Mavery scowled. She no longer doubted that these two were related. Evidently, condescension ran in the family.
