Page 35 of A Tower of Half-Truths
“Excuse me, I couldn’t help but overhear.” She spoke in a voice that, given her small stature, was surprisingly deep and brusque. “Did you mean Sensing, as in arcane hypersensitivity?”
Mavery nodded. And then a half-dozen assistants swarmed around her, like a pack of starving dogs rounding on a scrap of meat. Each of them wielded pens and notebooks that seemed to have materialized out of nowhere; Mavery wouldn’t have been surprised if they actually had. The assistants began speaking all at once.
“Are youreallya Senser?”
“Can you Sense anything right now?”
“Is that scar related to your Sensing in any way?”
“Honestly,” sneered a male assistant who hadn’t joined the others, “you’re causing this much fuss overSensing?”
Alain emerged from his office and, with a swish of his robe, swooped in between Mavery and the others. He spread his arms wide, as if simply shielding her from view would quell their interest.
“That’s enough,” Alain said. “If you wish to learn about her abilities, leave a request in my mailbox.”
“Just one question?” the bespectacled assistant asked.
“No.”
The horde of scholars shot him looks of disappointment—one mumbled something about “bloody wizards”—but then retreated to their tables and returned to their work. Alain shook his head as he lowered himself into the armchair across from Mavery.
“I could have handled them myself,” she said.
“Don’t let their meek, bookish looks fool you. An individual scholar is no threat, but together, they’re fiercer than a dragon.”
“Well, inthatcase, thank you for saving me from the big scary dragon, Sir Knight.”
She shifted her chair closer to the fire. Up close, she noticed how the flames oscillated in a pattern, there was no crackling of wood—in fact, there were no logs at all—and the heat was too tempered. This was an Elemental fire, one that had been conjured only tolookcomforting. That was for the best, considering how the common room was brimming with kindling. One errant ember would likely set the entire tower ablaze.
“That’s not helping much, is it?” Alain asked.
She shook her head. “Not at all.”
There was one positive: Elemental magic didn’t affect her Senses. She’d always assumed because this was already the “flashiest” School of Magic; its effects were obvious to everyone, mage or not.
Alain stood up. “Well, time to get this over with.” He spoke as if he were readying himself for a walk to the gallows. Suppressing a shiver, Mavery hoisted herself out of the chair. “Oh, er, no need to come with me if you’re still feeling poorly. We’re only going to discuss some of my research ideas. It’ll be quite tedious.”
“Sounds better than sitting by a fake fire with those weirdos over there.” One of them turned and glared at her. “Besides, you look like you could use a little moral support.”
Alain nervously scratched his beard. “All right. But remember: I warned you.”
Twelve
The dean’s office was fit for a king. The room contained the vast collection of books Mavery had come to expect, and—more importantly—cabinets brimming with magical artifacts. They glowed with faint auras that she was so eager to investigate, she all but forgot about her Sensing-induced headache. Before she could do more than glimpse those artifacts, Alain steered her toward the pair of leather chairs in front of the desk. Her curiosity would have to wait.
Even if Mavery hadn’t spotted his diploma from the University of Maroba, Kazamin’s sepia complexion and short stature would have made his ethnicity obvious. Like most Marobans, Kazamin was tiny, not even five feet tall, yet broad-shouldered. His large ears stuck straight out and made his bald head appear wider than it actually was. While seated, only his head and shoulders were visible from across the expansive desk. He was elderly, even by wizard standards. His face was a web of deep wrinkles, he sported a fully gray beard, and his liver-spotted hands trembled as he spoke.
“First order of business,” he said. He pushed a tall stack of papers across his desk. “Here are some spells and book chapters in need of peer review. This should help you become reacclimated with research. On that note, you mentioned last week you were already exploring some research topics.”
Alain tucked the papers into his magically expanded satchel. He glanced at Mavery, then nodded. “Yes, sir. Well, to begin, my new assistant, Mavery Cul—er,Reynard—has arcane hypersensitivity.”
Mavery examined her nails as she pretended to ignore his slip-up.
“Has a Mystic confirmed this?” Kazamin asked.
“No, but I don’t believe it’s necessary. Based on my observations over the past month, I have no reason to believe she’s lying.”
Mavery looked up. “Why would I lie about that?”
