Page 31 of A Tower of Half-Truths
“I didn’t mean taking classes,” she said. “I came across a textbook and taught myself the basics.”
“You happened to ‘come across’ a Soudremancy textbook?”
One of the first times she’d landed herself in an infirmary,she’d swiped a primer from the trainee who’d been assigned to her. Excerpts from that book had remained in her Compendium for so long, the pages were tattered, the ink faded. But it was too valuable to discard; even those basic, near-illegible spells had helped her allies more times than she could count. And now, she’d just helped the man sitting across from her, though she doubted “ally” would be the appropriate word in his case.
She shrugged. “Is that so hard to believe?”
Alain threw her a skeptical look, but he said nothing as he poured himself a cup of tea. A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
He offered Mavery a cup as well. It was the color of fresh butter and, though it smelled like licorice, had an intensely bitter taste. Somehow, he managed to drink it without even a pinch of sugar.
“Regardless of where you learned Soudremancy,” he said, “I appreciate it all the same. Can you Sense that School as well?”
She nodded. “The aura is light teal, and there’s always an herbal scent, though it’s different every time. Just now, it smelled like rosemary, but sometimes it’s juniper, mint, something like that.”
He took a small notebook from his pocket and jotted down what she’d said. He had gotten into the habit of carrying it around at all times to record Mavery’s comments on the spot. And she had gotten into the habit of delivering those comments, though Alain hadn’t yet told her the purpose for all his note-taking.
He slipped the notebook back in his pocket. She took another sip of tea and winced.
“You’re not partial to taxwort, I take it,” he said.
“Isthatwhat this is? I’ve only ever used it to scrub the rust off iron.”
“The root, yes, but the leaf is far gentler. Helps with digestion.” He lifted his cup to his mouth. “Among other, er,ailments…”
Drunkenness, she assumed. She cracked a smile that she swiftly hid behind her teacup.
“Don’t feel obligated to drink it,” he said. “I’ll have to find a better way to thank you for cleaning up my messes.”
“You can start with gold and jewels.” He laughed, and she played it off with a shrug. “What can I say? I’m a simple woman.”
“You, ‘simple’?” He leaned forward, rested his chin on his freshly healed hand. “No, I highly doubt that.”
If he wasn’t half-drunk, she would have assumed he was searching for a crack in her composure, a rift from which he could prise free her lies. He was studying her so intently, warmth began to creep up her neck. She choked down a mouthful of taxwort tea, simply for the sake of distraction.
“Anyway,” she said, bitterness lingering on her tongue, “don’t get used to the complimentary spells. I only offered because you seemed like you had a lot on your mind. I mean, something must be amiss when a wizard forgets to use magic.”
He leaned back. “You’re right, I do have a lot on my mind. After I left the barber, I ran into my supervisor.” Sipping his tea, his gaze drifted to a far corner of the room. “We had lunch, and he asked me to meet him on campus next week to discuss how my research is progressing. Much as I wanted to decline, I’m in no position to.”
“How long has it been since you last visited campus?” It seemed an innocent enough question; she couldn’t reveal that she knew more than she was supposed to.
“Nearly a year. You’ll come with me, I hope?”
“Should I?”
“Didn’t you tell me you wanted to return to the academic world? I can’t think of a better way than by visiting the University.”
Mavery chewed her lip. Continuing her ruse for another week thrilled her almost as much as the prospect of meeting Alain’s colleagues. The last thing she needed was for more wizards—more witnesses—to know her name, her face. But this could also be an opportunity. She hadn’t found any valuables in his apartment, but there were bound to be plenty at the University.
“I won’t pressure you,” he said, “but do keep in mind that our current arrangement is a tad unconventional. Once I return from my sabbatical, we’ll be expected to work on campus.”
“I thought assistants typically worked out of wizards’…er, towers.”
“Not when those wizards are also professors. Besides, the work you’re doing now, while helpful, is glorified housekeeping. There’splenty more you can do at the University: grade exams, help facilitate my lectures, perhaps even deliver them yourself when my other duties pull me elsewhere…”
He still thought she was qualified for all that? He could have been bluffing, but no, his tone was completely earnest. Not only did she find that a bit flattering—she wasn’t above admitting it—here he was, making plans for months from now, unaware that she would be gone in a matter of days. Weeks, at most. It was almost enough to make her feel guilty.
Almost.
