Page 104 of A Tower of Half-Truths
“I must have accidentally left in a few runes from Ardemin’s Hue Shifting Augmentation. My blasted fault for using one fromthe Elemental School…”
Mavery ignored his ramblings as she snatched the fireproofed box from the ground—it, too, was aglow with white light—and bolted across the room. She slammed it against the door. The box jerked beneath her hands—she’d triggered the detonation ward—but it smothered the flames in a puff of black smoke.
Slowly, she removed the box. The fire had lasted not even a minute, and it had only left behind a scorch mark. Her heart continued to pound as she turned to Alain. Aside from clutching his notebook to his chest, he hadn’t moved a muscle.
“I think I can prevent that from happening again.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Youthink?”
“Thatwon’thappen again.” He grimaced. “Give me a moment to make some adjustments.”
Though his second attempt didn’t result in any fires, it was also a failure. The wards glowed white, but the colors never appeared. After another round of revisions, every ward appeared orange, for reasons that left him completely baffled. His next attempt was a bit closer to the desired result, though the resonating wards appeared violet when they should have been gold. And after a dozen attempts, he only recited half of the incantation before the Ethereal light dissipated. His arcana was completely spent.
He tossed his notebook aside and tossed himself on the sofa with a drawn-out groan. He lay on his stomach, face pressed into the cushion.
“I shouldn’t have let you transmutate my pack earlier,” Mavery said. She picked up the notebook, smoothed the pages that had crumpled upon impact with the floor. “You shouldn’t have wasted your arcana on me.”
“None of this is your fault,” Alain said, his voice muffled. He turned his head and gave her a pointed look. “And no spell I cast for your benefit will ever be a waste, I can assure you.”
She smiled in spite of herself as she sat in his armchair.
“No,” he sighed, “I should have known better than to attempt spellcraft after a night of heavy drinking.” He rolled onto his back, gazed at the ceiling. “I think this room, this apartment, could also be playing a role. Too many reminders of my previous failures.”
Mavery was inclined to agree. As far as she knew, he hadn’t left his apartment in days. If confining himself to these small rooms for long periods of time was detrimental to his wellbeing, it might as well have the same effect on his spellcasting.
“Then maybe we need a change of scenery.”
“I could request a classroom at the University,” he said, then shook his head. “No, that likely won’t be possible with final exams coming up.”
Mavery looked out the window, where the sky had turned blue and cloudless. Finally, the season had taken a turn for the better.
“Actually,” she said, “I have something else in mind.”
Thirty-One
After two months of living in the city, a walk in the forest was nothing short of exhilarating. Granted, Weywode Forest was still part of Leyport, just beyond the city walls. But it was far enough to be disconnected from the buildings, the grime, and—most importantly—the noise.
These thousand acres were the Duke of Leyland’s personal hunting grounds; outside of hunting season, they were open to commoners. Mavery had escaped into Weywode Forest a handful of times during her first stint in Leyport. Unlike the rest of the city, this place had hardly changed over the years.
Everywhere she looked, she was surrounded by evergreen trees and verdant understory. Looking up, the sky was barely visible through the canopy of treetops. She breathed in the crisp air. There wasn’t a hint of stagnant water, garbage, or horses.
Her body was stiff from having slept on the sofa last night, but she’d mentioned not a word of it to Alain. If she suggested feeling even the slightest discomfort, he would sacrifice his bed for her in a heartbeat, even though he needed a good night’s rest more than she did. The deeper into the forest she walked, the more her muscles rejoiced at being allowed to stretch properly, to not feel the pressure of cobblestones beneath her feet. As she took another deep breath, her arcana pulsed beneath her skin, alert butnot recalcitrant. She quickened her pace.
“Slow…down…please,” Alain gasped.
She looked over her shoulder and realized she’d gotten a dozen or so paces ahead of him. With his gray hooded travel cloak and his staff, Alain looked more “wizardly” than ever. And that included looking old and feeble for a change.
“Sorry.” Mavery stopped and waited for him to catch up. “Got a little overeager just now.”
“That’s…all well…and good,” Alain panted. “But do keep in mind, this is a bit more strenuous than a stroll through the city streets.”
He leaned against his staff as he caught his breath. Not even a quarter mile into this walk, and his forehead already glistened with sweat.
“Is your chest still bothering you?” she asked.
“Oh, no, that’s now fully healed. Mylegsaren’t used to this level of exertion.”
Though he did plenty of pacing around his apartment, that hardly compared to an outdoor walk. And there had been many days lately when he’d remained sitting for hours on end. Until now, Mavery hadn’t even considered how woefully out of shape he was, even for an academic.
