Page 27 of A Tower of Half-Truths
She stepped closer. The ward was simple—a bittoosimple. Hewanted to keep her out, but he knew that magic would do little to deter her. She leaned forward until the tip of her nose almost brushed against the tendrils of light. Entwined with the shimmering blue aura was a silver ley line, barely thicker than a hair. She focused her gaze and traced where it led, which was easier said than done; it was like trying to detect a spiderweb in a snowstorm. If she so much as blinked, she lost sight of it.
Her eyes watered from strain as she followed the ley line’s trail clockwise around the room. First, it snaked around the bedroom door, then under the windows along the western wall, then stopped at the kitchen door, where it ran diagonally across the floor to Alain’s desk, only three feet from where she’d started. It led her to a drawer that contained only two items: the iron coin it was anchored to, and a folded piece of paper.
Mavery,
If you are reading this, congratulations! Senser or not, your observational skills are truly unparalleled. Now, kindly stay out of the storage room. The augmentation will inform me if you attempt to tamper with the ward.
Sincerely,
Alain
Mavery laughed. “You win this one, cheeky bastard.”
She returned the note to the drawer, then surveyed her surroundings. Though she hadn’t yet earned Alain’s trust, at least she’d succeeded in tidying up his living space. It was far from clean,but she could finally see the floorboards. There was now enough room to sit on one of the kitchen chairs while she worked, and her back was all the more thankful for it. But if Alain had any treasures among his books, she’d yet to uncover them.
Of course, the books were potentially worth a small fortune, but finding a buyer would be no small task. With the exception of rare tomes and first editions, the wealthy preferred tostock their libraries with brand-new books. She wouldn’t know which of Alain’s books held any real value until she had cataloged them—the job he was actually paying her for. The irony was not lost on her.
The bathroom was filled with modern plumbing—a claw-footed tub with a dedicated tap for hot water, a pedestal sink with the same, and a flushing toilet—but ripping out copper pipes was far from the subtle approach she preferred. The alchemy equipment in the kitchen could fetch a fair price, but as she was working alone, she needed something easy enough to move by herself.
So, she had a go at the bedroom. She rifled through Alain’s belongings, taking care to not leave anything out of place, though she doubted he would notice. In the wardrobe, she found only a few wizard robes, a winter coat, an old suit. Atop his dresser, she found no jewelry, no pocket watches, no family heirlooms.
The more she searched, the more of an enigma this man became. As a wizardanda professor, he had to be well-off, but he seemed to spend his wealth exclusively on old books and exotic teas.
She returned to the sitting room and plopped herself on Alain’s desk chair. It wasn’t even ten o’clock yet; she still had a few hours before he returned home. She could search for secret compartments, loose floorboards, safes behind paintings. But she assumed a wizard would prefer magic over mundane methods. She would have Sensedsomethingby now.
Her only option was to continue biding her time until he trusted her enough to show her the storage room, or she found some way in there without him noticing. At least she was getting paid for her work, and she’d started spending some of her earnings on herself. Over these past weeks, she had treated herself to new clothes, bottles of half-decent wine, and even a few novels thatweren’tstolen. But she couldn’t continue wasting her money on these luxuries, as small as they were. At this moment, she didn’t even have two hundred potins to her name.
The work itself was another luxury. Alain was the least demanding employer she could ever recall, and the tedium of thework was strangely comforting. So, too, was the constant presence of old books paired with the warding magic that separated this apartment from the outside world.
It was a shame none of it would last.
Seeing as she still had plenty of time before Alain returned home, she decided to do some snooping of another nature. She hadn’t forgotten about his Innominate Temple research—and the journal he’d hidden from her. To her surprise, the desk drawer was unlocked. Even more surprising, instead of finding the research journal inside it, she found a stack of letters addressed to Alain. Though he’d hidden his valuables from her, he’d neglected to hide his mail. She started with the letter on top, though it took her three full passes to decipher the dreadfully sloppy handwriting.
Alain,
The most curious thing happened when I attempted to call on you yesterday. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I succumbed to a Diversion Ward. But I know you wouldn’t use my own spell against me!
Seeing as you are obviouslynotaccepting visitors at this time, perhaps you will accept a letter. I do miss seeing you around the common room. Department meetings are not as entertaining without you there. (Not that they ever were in the first place!)
Please write back soon. I wouldthoroughlyenjoy catching up over a pint…or six!
All the best,
Declan
Now she knew who to thank for the intrusive thoughts that day she’d first arrived at Steelforge Towers. She moved on to the next letter. The handwriting was shaky—from a feeble old hand, perhaps—but it was leagues more legible than Declan’s.
Dear Aventus,
I regret to inform you that once Chancellor Drusilla learned you were not returning for the spring term, she threatened to report you to the High Council. I offered to issue the report myself. I believe I presented your case far more charitably than the Chancellor would have done. You should expect a letter from the Archmage within a week’s time.
Sincerely,
Kazamin
And beneath this letter was a heavily wrinkled one—an impressive feat, given the thickness of the stationery. It had been penned in sapphire ink; at the top of the page,The High Council of Wizardswas embossed in matching foil.
To the Wizard Aventus III:
