Page 89 of A Tower of Half-Truths
Alain laughed nervously as he waved a hand. “Having romantic relations withanywizard is a recipe for disaster. Doubly so when it comes to the wizard standing before you. I can assure you, that’s an idea not worth entertaining, even in hypotheticals.”
Mavery frowned. “What do you m—?”
“I ought to go bottle up the rest of the potion.” He nudged the teacup across the desk. “Drink up. We’ve plenty of work to do.”
With that, he escaped into the kitchen. Though she wanted to follow him and press him further on what he’d said, she found herself unable to move. A heavy weight had settled on her shoulders, anchoring her to the desk chair.
He was right, much as it pained her to admit it. He couldn’t risk his entire career for someone he’d known for not even two months. And now that she was committed to being his assistant—a job that was enjoyable, comfortable,stable—she wasn’t about to risk losing that, either.
But what of the man in the paintings? Had Alain risked everything forhim?
Mavery grabbed the cup of anti-Sensing potion. She tossed the black liquid down her throat, winced at its bitterness. Within seconds, the auras emanating from the front door faded. The potion had once again succeeded at dulling those Senses. If only everything else could be dulled just as easily.
Twenty-Seven
As the week progressed, Leyport became caught in an endless storm, as if a petulant raincloud had parked itself over the city and refused to budge.
Middisday was an exceptionally gloomy day, made worse by Alain’s sullen mood. Even though the High Council presentation loomed closer than ever, Alain seemed to have lost all motivation to work. He’d spent most of the day standing by the window, transfixed by the view that hadn’t changed over the past three days: an ominously gray sky over a gray churning river.
Mavery, however, had devoted much of the day to learning a new incantation. The Sensing spell, once complete, would reveal the colors of the five primary types of wards: protective, detonation, resonating, soundproofing, and fireproofing. Out of the four types she had yet to master, she’d been most eager to learn the incantation for fireproofing.
She gripped the sides of a wooden box—the same one that had once been overflowing with Alain’s mail—and recited the incantation again. It was only fourteen syllables but a touch more complicated than the others she’d learned so far. She stumbled over the final rune, almost forgetting to roll the ‘r,’ but the pulsation beneath her fingers told her the Ether had responded to her words all the same.
She gasped. “I think I did it!”
Even her excitement couldn’t distract Alain from the window—or, more accurately, whatever thoughts were plaguing him. He continued to watch the downpour.
Mavery hoisted herself off the floor with a creak from her bad knee, and it continued to ache as she crossed the room.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Hmm? Oh, nothing,” he said, finally acknowledging her for the first time in hours. She threw him a penetrating look, and he hung his head with a sigh. “Today is…not a good day.”
“I can see that.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No, it’s nothing to concern yourself with.” He cleared his throat. “Er, did you need something?”
“I think I managed the fireproofing spell. Come look.”
Her hand trailed from his shoulder to his elbow. She pulled him away from the window and to the center of the room, where the box sat on the floor. She grabbed a match from the tea table. The scent of sulfur filled the air as she struck it. She dropped it in the box, and the flame extinguished with a tiny puff of smoke.
“Two down, three to go,” Alain said, nodding, though his voice lacked a shred of enthusiasm. “Why don’t we call it a day?”
Mavery glanced at the clock. “It’s not even one-thirty.”
“And yet, it seems you’ve already put in a full day’s work.”
“I could get back to practicing augmentations. I still haven’t mastered the compass—”
“Don’t worry about that. Leave the augmentations to me.” He placed his hand against her upper back and nudged her toward the door. “Go on, take the rest of the afternoon off.”
She shrugged away from his grasp. “Alain, what’s going on? Are you worried about the presentation?”
He laughed humorlessly. “I’mconstantlyworried about the presentation, but no. This time, it’s…” He hesitated, then gave her what she assumed was his best attempt at a smile. “As I said, it’s nothing to concern yourself with. I’ll be better come morning, I promise.”
She met his gaze with another probing stare, though she knewany attempts to force the truth from him would be in vain. She could only hope her evening plans would prove more enlightening.
The Lettered Gentleman was a much higher-end establishment than Mavery had expected, though she probably should have known better, based on the name alone. The walls were paneled with dark-toned wood, and adorned with world maps, oil paintings of the University’s towers, and other scholarly paraphernalia.
