Page 20 of A Tower of Half-Truths
“I’ve actually used my magic out in the world, and I’d argue I’ve been pretty godsdamned good at it. I might not know Ven-whoever’s Principles, but I know it’s best to avoid unnecessary risks—especially when you have a history of surges. I’d rather stick to my ‘boring’ magic than blow myself up because I used the wrong word.”
As her frustration subsided, regret settled in. She hoped her little outburst hadn’t been a mistake. Most wizards had such fragile egos, they couldn’t handle even the smallest bit of criticism. He was liable to fire her on the spot. He sipped his tea, avoiding her eye. Though the clock on the mantel continued to tick away the seconds, time seemed to stand still.
“Point taken,” he said at last. She nearly dropped her teacup in surprise. “But let me raise a counterpoint: if you’re so confident in your skills as they are, why ask me about learning Etherean?”
“Curiosity, mostly.” She ran her thumb along the rim of her cup as she chose her next words carefully. “And, as long as I’m here, I thought I’d seize the opportunity to learn from someone who’s very clearly a master of his craft.”
When in doubt, a bit of flattery never hurt. Aventus scratched his chin as he grew lost in thought. She pretended to drink her tea as they sat in uncomfortable silence. Again. This was happening far too often for her liking.
“We could both benefit from this,” he said at last. “You see, I’ve been on sabbatical for the better part of a year. Before I return to teaching, I ought to revisit my lecture notes, conduct a trial class or two for good measure. Those can serve as your lessons.” He raised a finger, paired with a warning look. “But that will happenafteryou’ve found the last of the library books.”
“Sure, that’s fair.” Sticking around that long was not part of her plan, but at least he’d given her an offer and not a rejection.
“Though, be warned: once you get a taste for advanced spellcasting, you’ll find those basic spells lacking. You may very well end up taking back everything you just told me.”
“I’ll be the judge of—”
A high-pitched chime sounded from the door. Its tone was bright and pure, as though the Ether itself had been plucked like a harp. This alarm was more pleasant than the ones Mavery had encountered in manors, bank vaults, and other places she’d intended to rob.
“That would be my resonating ward,” Aventus said, then spoke something in Etherean. Another chill swept through the room, and the chiming stopped. “It means we have a visitor.”
“Is that what you heard when I was outside your door?”
“No,thisward was augmented for one specific person.” He groaned. “Well, this is about to be a painful, yet necessary, conversation.”
“Why? Who’s your visitor?”
“You’ll see—or hear, rather—soon enough. Go to the kitchen and keep quiet. I’d rather she not see you, and I doubt she’ll snoop around in there.”
Mavery placed her teacup next to his before retreating to the next room and closing the kitchen door. Curiosity getting the better of her, she leaned against it so that she could eavesdrop. She heard Aventus take a few deep breaths before opening the front door.
“I see you received my letter,” he said.
“Oh, I received your letter, all right,” replied a woman’s voice. She spoke with guttural ‘r’s, nasally vowels, and an air of superiority. A textbook Dauphinian accent. “After weeks without a word from you, worrying myself sick, not knowing if you were evenalive, you send a letter. Aletter! To your own mother!”
“What would you have preferred?” Aventus asked.
His mother scoffed. “I would havepreferredyou speak to me in person. Or, is a trip to the Garden District too much of a burden?”
“No, but I—”
His sentence was cut off with a rustling of fabric, followed by a surprised yelp. Mavery could only assume his mother had forced him into a hug.
“Oh, Aventus, you poor thing! How did you get so thin? Are you remembering to eat?”
“Yes, I know how to feed myself.”
“Your hair—and thatbeard!”She gasped, then tutted in Dauphinian. “Oh, you used to be so handsome. Now lookat you.”
“On the contrary, I saw in the newspaper that the Duke of Leyland himself plans to sport a similar look this Season.” He took a few steps and closed the door. “While we’re on the subject of newspapers, what were you thinking, placing that ad on my behalf? Using the ‘help wanted’ section as though I were looking for a common laborer… If someone from the University had seen—”
“I never mentioned your name, and I did not place it inThe Gazette.”
“There were enough identifying details, someonewho knew me would have pieced it together.”
“You are too—oh, what is the word?—paranoid.”
“All right, let’s assume none of my colleagues saw the ad. Even so, you had no right—”
