Page 120 of A Tower of Half-Truths
He looked up. There was a desperation in his eyes that she’d not seen in a very long time. “Think of the bigger picture, Mave. We head to a place where a single guild doesn’t control everything. Durnatel, for instance. Just imagine, in a city like that, all the money we could—”
“I’m out, Nel.”
Annoyance flickered across Neldren’s face. There had once been a time when Mavery would have let this man convince her to do almost anything. Now, the only thing she desired was to return to the apartment filled with teacups, alchemical supplies, and old books—and the man who she’d decided was more precious to her than any amount of money.
“I’m not going back to that life,” she said. “I’m trying to build something of a new life here in Leyport.”
“Does this ‘new life’ involve your Night Market companion?” When she nodded, he raised an eyebrow. “Must be one hell of a bloke, to convince you to stay in fuckingLeyport, of all places.”
“He is,” she said, and her face warmed.
“I see.” He frowned. “Well, I need to go. I’ve got some other debts to settle before leaving town.”
Neldren turned on his heel and vanished into the shadows, leaving behind only a faint scent of arcana-tinged ash.
Thirty-Five
Abronze-skinned girl entered the classroom—and immediately stumbled over her own two feet. She regained her composure long enough to cross the room, then stopped in front of the table where Alain and Declan were seated. With her lanky figure and wide eyes, she looked closer to twelve than seventeen—how did each first-year manage to look younger than the last?—and her entire body trembled as she waited. Alain had half a mind to fetch a bin before she vomited over the hardwood floor. He couldn’t blame her for being nervous; when he was a student, practical exams had always left him in a similar state. Though being on the other side of the table wasn’t much of an improvement.
Declan cleared his throat, then issued the prompt that he’d recited so many times, Alain was bound to hear it in his sleep tonight:
“Miss Zireen, to your left is a chest that I’ve warded with a standard arcane lock and Berimur’s Electrostatic Augmentation. Using only Gardemancy spells, retrieve the item inside the chest. You have two minutes, starting now.”
Declan turned over an hourglass. For the first few seconds, Miss Zireen remained frozen on the spot. Then, as though she finally remembered why she was here, she rounded on the chest and grabbed the padlock. She emitted a yelp of pain; evidently,she’d missed the “Electrostatic” part of Declan’s instructions. Alain shook his head as he scribbled a note on Miss Zireen’s scoring card.
She attempted a spell, and Alain grimaced as she stumbled through the incantation. As her spells proved ineffective and the grains of sand continued to fall, she grew more frustrated. Meanwhile, Alain continued to record demerits. With only a few grains remaining in the hourglass, she recited a final incantation, then screamed.
Alain looked up. The chest had erupted in green flames.
It would have been a startling sight, had she not been the eighth student today to set fire to the chest. Six students had turned it invisible, three had resorted to kicking it, two had transmutated it into stone, and one—a student who was seemingly immune to Elemental magic—had managed to pick it up and chuck it across the room. Miss Zireen was the first to conjuregreenfire, though she wouldn’t receive points for originality.
She hopped from foot to foot as she wrung her hands. With a grunt, Declan pushed his chair back, rounded the table, and hovered his hand a few feet above the flames. He chanted an incantation that extinguished the fire without so much as a puff of smoke. Fortunately, no damage had been done. Unfortunately, Nadya Zireen had failed her exam quite spectacularly.
“I’m so sorry, Professor Ward,” she said in a trembling voice. “I don’t know what happened!”
“Not to worry, Miss Zireen,” Declan said. “Accidents happen to even the best mages. You were on the right track with that counterspell, but at the end you used‘cha’instead of‘kha.’A very common mistake.”
He guided her to the door, wished her well with a friendly pat on the shoulder, then returned to the table. He slumped into his chair with another grunt. All the while, Alain had been writing his evaluation, which now spilled onto the back of the scoring card.
“Why did you tell her she was ‘on the right track’?” he asked as he continued to write. “Not only was that anabysmalperformance, she was supposed to use only Gardemancy spells. That last incantation she attempted was from the Elemental School. Iwould have deducted five points for that, had she any points lefttodeduct.”
Declan sighed. “You know, lad, a little positivity now and then doesn’t hurt.”
“That’s certainly not how I was taught.”
“Remind me, who taughtyourfirst-year Gardemancy class?”
“Cadavan,” Alain said. Though Cadavan exclusively taught advanced courses these days, his reputation continued to strike fear into the hearts of the University’s youngest students. Even most of the faculty tried to avoid crossing his path whenever possible.
Declan shuddered. “That explains it. You ought to try my approach with your own students. Maybe then they’ll take a shine to you.”
Alain bristled, laying down his pen. “Judging by the number of assistantship applications currently sitting in my mailbox, I’d say I’m liked well enough.”
“Oh, lad, I can assure you they don’t like you for yourpersonality!”
Declan clapped Alain on the back as he roared with laughter. Alain attempted to ignore him as he stuffed his scoring sheets into his satchel.
“How many do we have left?” Declan asked once his laughter subsided.
