Page 23 of A Tower of Half-Truths
“Are you required to use your wizard name?”
“Only professionally, though most wizards use their honorific as though it were their real name.Myreal name is Alain.” He shrugged. “Not that it matters. I’m sure you noticed how even my own mother prefers my wizard name over the one she gave me.”
“What about you?”
He looked up at her. “Me?”
“Yes, which name do you prefer?”
“Alain,” he said without hesitation.
“Good choice. Rolls off the tongue a bit easier.”
Aventus—Alain—nodded in agreement. “It’s odd… People have always assumed which name to use, one way or the other, without my input. You’re the first I can recall who’s everasked.”
“I know what you mean. My name is Mavery, but everyone has always called me Mave, ever since I was a child.”
“And which name doyouprefer?”
The nickname was so persistent, even she had defaulted to it. But she’d always seen herself as Mavery. Speaking it aloud just now had felt familiar,right.
“Mavery,” she decided.
“Likewise, a good choice. Mavery suits you much better than Mave.”
Her face suddenly warmed.
“Well, then,” he said, “if you agree to call me Alain from now on, I will call you Mavery.”
“Deal.”
His scraggly beard twitched, suggesting a hint of a smile that she couldn’t help but return. This new agreement between them seemed to have lifted a heavy burden. He now stood a little taller, his shoulders were a bit more relaxed. Enough so, Mavery doubted he would berate her for admitting to a bit more of her ignorance. She decided to test that theory.
“All this time, I thought Archmage Seringoth was Seringoth the First’s great-grandson or something.”
He shook his head. “No relation whatsoever. Very few wizards have children, in fact. Many will argue it’s to prevent nepotism, but the real reason is that most of us prefer research over child-rearing. Or, to put it more bluntly, we prefer the company of books…over…people…”
He fell silent as his thoughts seemed to transport him elsewhere. Mavery lingered awkwardly, wondering whether she should leave the room and give him a moment to himself. Just asshe was about to step away, he met her eye and spoke again.
“I’m sorry.”
“For…?”
“For belittling you earlier, for my lack of decency in general. I never intended to insult you, but I still managed to accomplish that at least twice in a single morning. To be completely honest, my opportunities for socializing had been rather…limited before you came along. I’m woefully out of practice when it comes to conversing with others—not that I was ever much good at it to begin with.” He sighed, shook his head. “Gods, I’m only proving my point, aren’t I? What I’m trying to say is, going forward, I promise to be less of a…”
“Pompous ass?”
He laughed. “Precisely.”
She would believe it when she saw it. Still, his apology seemed sincere enough.
“All right,” she said. “And, er, thanks.”
He nodded, then turned to his hoard of books. Thanks to Priscilla’s surprise visit, they hadn’t so much as toucheda single tome.
“If you’d like to call it a day,” he said, “I completely understand. You can come back tomorrow and—”
“No, I’m ready to work. Where should I start?”
