Page 170 of A Tower of Half-Truths
“Because the High Council will soon arrive to claim what’s theirs.”
Mavery’s eyes widened as realization struck. “Notthatcovenant.”
He nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
“Fucking hells…”
She couldn’t recall the precise wording, but any wizard who discovered an arcane archaeological site was required to turn it over to the High Council. That covenant explained why so many wizards sought out contractors. Not exclusively to avoid getting their hands dirty, but to take advantage of a loophole. Paying a mage for hire a small fortune for a useful ruin was preferable to letting the Elder Wizards seize control. Mavery had been so preoccupied with other matters—most of which had centered on not dying—it had slipped her mind.
“But we cracked this together,” she said, “and I’m not a wizard—”
“But you were performing your duties as my assistant, so you also forfeit your ownership rights.” Alain shook his head. “Had Neldren and Ellice not been so hasty to leave, that would’ve made matters a bit less straightforward. Not that I wanted to partake in more negotiations with them. In any case, we ought to get started now, while we still have time.”
“You speak as if the High Council will swoop in at any moment. How will they even know?”
“Just look around.” Alain gestured at the cracked ground and toppled trees. The top of the tower was likely visible from Archstone—or even further out. “It won’t be long before they receive word of a significant arcane disturbance in this area. I wouldn’t be surprised if they already have.
“If Aganast took these measures to hide his research, I’m not about to turn it over to the High Council. At least, not until I’ve gotten the chance to read his writings for myself.”
“What about the creature? Aganast’s remains?”
He shrugged. “I’m not too concerned about either. The books are our most valuable resource.”
Mavery chewed her lip as she once again recalled the creature’s dying words. If it hadn’t been tricking her—if it truly wasn’t a demon—she had come so close to discovering something about her abilities. But now she’d lost that resource forever.
Unless…
She reached inside the sock and pulled out the syringe.
“Will this work on something that’s not human?”
Alain gawked at the syringe, then blinked at her. “Mavery, my love, are you suggesting you want torevivethat demon?”
She nodded. “This is going to sound mad, but just before Neldren shot it, it spoke to me in my mind, like a Mystic but…different. It—he, I think—told me that Aganast was a Senser, that there’s a connection between my magic and demonic magic. Well, not exactly. He said he wasn’t a demon, but he died before he could explain.”
Alain stared at her, mouth slightly agape.
She sighed. “I know I must sound insane—”
“Not at all.” He grasped her by the shoulders. “I believe you. I only hesitate because the resurrection serum has limitations.”
“Right, it has to be administered within an hour.”
“Not only that, as the vital organs grow older and therefore weaker, resurrection becomes less viable. This creature is at least five centuries old. Even if the serum works on its species, it may not work on one so ancient.”
“But we won’t know until we try.”
He nodded. “Where, exactly, did Neldren shoot it?”
“In the heart, I think.”
Alain frowned. “That’s far from ideal. Besides, if any bullets are lodged in its heart—or any vital organ—you would revive it, only to have it die again within minutes.”
“Then I’ll make sure to remove the bullets first.”
Though she spoke matter-of-factly, she knew her plan was deranged—and potentially suicidal. But if this creature could tell her anything of use, then it would be well worth the attempt. Alain’s eyes searched hers. A few times, his jaw quivered as though he were about to posit another warning, another caveat, but he said nothing. He took a deep breath, then smiled.
“If this is truly what you want,” he said, “then I’m with you.”
