Page 19 of A Tower of Half-Truths
“Oh, a bit of this and that. After I left school, I worked as a wardbreaker for a time. That’s where I picked up lockpicking, among other things.”
“Really? I’d always assumed that sort of work was for the unlearned types.”
“ ‘Unlearned types’?” she said stiffly.
“Yes, considering how wardbreaking requires no formal ed—”
“I understood your meaning.”
Unlearned types.Oh, she was going toenjoyrobbing this man when the time came.
“Well, it’s unexpected, to say the least,” he said. “I don’t need to see your transcripts to know you are an educated person. For you to partake in a venture likewardbreaking…“ He spat out the word as though it were the most vile profanity.
She spun around, and he recoiled at the pointed look she gave him. He was still standing in the same spot, still holding that stone. Briefly, she fantasized about chucking it in his smug face. She remembered now why she’d stopped working for wizards. They were an insufferable lot, and this man was proving to be no exception.
Keep it together. Breathe…
After a few heartbeats’ worth of uncomfortable silence, her anger tempered. She only needed to tolerate his company for as long as it took to thoroughly case his apartment. At least he didn’t seem the type to put a knife to her throat or a bullet in her gut. As far as positives went, those were too significant to ignore.
“How about we move past you belittling my former line of work, and on to work that you deem more acceptable?”
He blinked. “Er, yes. Why don’t I make some tea first?”
This time around, he prepared something that smelled less like tea and more like flowers. Aventus explained how a long steep in lukewarm water was necessary to extract every bit of flavor from the delicate herbs. After fifteen minutes, he passed Mavery a cup of what looked like watery ale. She took a sip and almost gagged; it tasted like perfume. Aventus enjoyed his liquefied flowers from his armchair, while Mavery sat on the sofa and only pretended to drink.
Though she hated to admit it, he was right. Shewasan “unlearned type,” at least to some extent. Despite her best efforts to study magic on her own, the spells in her arsenal were practical but simple. They required neither magical stones nor ancient words. What Aventus did was anart—one that she desired to learn.
“I was wondering,” she said, breaking the lull of the ticking clock and clinking porcelain, “if you could teach me some Etherean?”
Aventus sputtered on his tea. “Gods above, did they teach younothingat Atterdell?”
She’d barely covered the alphabetby the time she was forced to abandon her studies. But she wasn’t about to tell him that; he’d kick her out of the apartment before the tea turned cold.
“I learned it once, but it’s yet another thing that’s gone rusty over the years.”
“What about Venetum’s First Principle?” he asked. She gave him a blank look, and he threw her an incredulous one in return. “Venetum’s First Principle: ‘Etherean must be practiced daily, for fluency can slip away with surprising ease.’ ”
He’d rattled it off with the fervor of an acolyte reciting scripture.
“Well, excuseme,” she huffed. “Not all of us have the luxury of time for daily language practice. Besides, I’ve survived just fine without incantations.”
She should have kept her mouth shut. From the way he blinkedat her, mouth agape, he was readying another tirade. She braced herself.
“No incantations! All this time, you’ve been using only rituals, like a schoolchild? That’s like…like being a painter, but limiting your palette to a single color.”
She shrugged. “You’ll end up with a painting all the same.”
“Yes, but what aboringpainting that would be!”
For the second time that morning, Mavery considered throwing something in his face. This time, it was her teacup. She settled on throwing him a scathing look instead.
“You’re doing it again,” she said.
“Doing what?”
“Belittling me.” She clenched her cup. By some miracle, it didn’t shatter. “I’m going to assume you’re the same as every other wizard I’ve ever known: you rarely cast spells outside the comfort and safety of your tower. Or apartment, in this case.”
Aventus’s beard sagged. But, as he issued no rebuttal, Mavery forged ahead.
