Page 55 of A Tower of Half-Truths
“What do you mean I can’t go?”
Alain winced. Kazamin balked at her, much like he had during their first meeting when she’d spoken out of turn.
“The tome is in the special collections, which are only accessible to wizards,” Kazamin said tersely. “Since you arenota wizard, you are not allowed entry.”
“But the whole point of his research is to make a Sensing spell. Shouldn’t the fact that I’m a Senser count for something?”
“I’m sorry, Margery—”
“Mavery!”
“—but these are direct orders from North Fenutia’s arcanist. Even if I had any say in the matter, your lack of decorum would make me loath to write you any passes, I can assure you of that!”
She opened her mouth. Before she could continue her tirade, Alain grasped her arm.
“Don’t,” he whispered, then dragged her toward the door. Over his shoulder, he called to Kazamin, “Thank you, sir. I appreciate the efforts you took to arrange this.”
“Think nothing of it,” Kazamin said, cheerful once again. “I hope your research proves fruitful. Oh, and Aventus?”
Alain stopped and turned to the dean.
“You would be wise to review the Covenants with your new assistant.”
Mavery continued fuming in silence as Alain led her into his office and closed the door behind them. The room was so small, theywere practically standing on top of each other. The tiny window provided little natural light, but it was enough to half-illuminate Alain’s frown as he rubbed his temples.
“I understand your frustrations, Mavery, but pleasewatch your tone around my supervisor.”
“I will once that old codger bothers to remember my name,” she muttered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” She sighed. “I’ll try to be on my best behavior from now on. And what did he say on the way out? Something about some Covenants?”
“The Covenants of Wizarding Decorum. Essentially, it’s a long list of professional standards all wizards are expected to follow. I have a copy around here…somewhere.” He glanced at the mountain of dust-coated papers on his desk, then shrugged. “Well, what matters most is that we treat our fellow scholars with respect.”
She rolled her eyes. “That ‘respect’ goes in one direction, I take it. Does that arcanist think my non-wizard fingers will taint their precious books?”
“Trust me, I like this as much as you do, but if that’s how the arcanist wishes to run their library, then that’s how it must be.”
Mavery scoffed, though she should have known better than to expect anything else from the gatekeepers of arcane knowledge. Alain placed his hand on her shoulder. Her mood turned slightly less sour.
“I’ll be sure to take copious notes,” he said. “If need be, I will stay there all afternoon, until I’ve made a perfect copy of the spell tome.”
“And what amIsupposed to do all afternoon?”
“Go about campus, attend a class or two. Assistants do it all the time. No one will bat an eye, so long as you’re wearing that.” He nodded to her black robe.
Shewaseager to learn more about magic. Almost as eager as she was to break into Kazamin’s office and stuff her pockets with curios. She didn’t even care if they were worthless; she was motivated purely by spite. Maybe she would have time for classesandsome petty thievery.
“All right,” she said, “but how am I supposed to know when you’re back?”
Alain walked around the desk and began rummaging through the drawers.
“There’s one,” he muttered. “Now, where is the other…?”
While he was preoccupied, she swiped a letter opener from atop his desk, then slipped it in her pocket. Just in case.
“Ah, here we are.”
