Page 52 of A Tower of Half-Truths
“All right!” He threw up his hands. “I’ll give you a hint: I’m hoping this alleviates some…symptoms…that are specific to you.”
“I hope, for your sake, you’re referring to my Senses.” She raised an eyebrow, then stifled a laugh as his face turned red.
“I…I’ve already said too much,” he sputtered. “You’re just going to have to trust me.”
Mavery’s instincts told her to never trust a suspicious drink—especially if said drink contained poisonous ingredients, and doubly soif said drink was a potion crafted by someone who onlydabbledin alchemy. On the liquid’s dark surface, her reflection stared back at her, then rippled as she exhaled.
“All right. How much of this do I have to drink?”
“This dosage is based on a rough estimate of your weight—”
She narrowed her eyes at him.
He cleared his throat. “Er, all of it. Best do it quickly.”
She closed her eyes and threw it back like a shot of liquor. It had an astringent, slightly bitter taste, paired with the bergamot tea she liked. It was a bit gritty and didn’t tastegood, but she was able to keep it down.
She placed the empty teacup on the table and waited. A moment passed without feeling anything, not even a hint of protest from her stomach. She opened her eyes again to find Alain watching her intently.
“Well, do you feel anything?”
“No.”
“Try looking at the door.”
She peered over his shoulder, then gasped.
The warding magic had vanished.
She rose from the sofa and approached the door. The wards were still present, but she was likely seeing them as Alain did: a rippling effect instead of vibrant auras. There was no longer the hum of arcana, nor the metallic taste she’d grown to ignore whenever she was this close to the door. She turned to Alain, who hadn’t taken his eyes off her. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“I take it the potion is working as intended.” His tone was much calmer than she’d expected. She could only assume it wastaking every crumb of his willpower to not boast right now.
She nodded. “I can’t Sense a thing. This is… I don’t know what to say.”
“Before we get too carried away, let’s test how it works on incantations.”
He spoke a few syllables of Etherean. An orb of light appeared above his palm—the same one he’d conjured after catching her in the storage room. She felt no rush of Ether, no change in temperature.
“Nothing,” she breathed. “How did you…?”
Alain made a fist and snuffed out the orb. He stepped forward, close enough for her to see how the brightness in his eyes outshone the darkness encircling them.
“Walking you through the entire process would take all morning. Key to it was determining the exact amount of kutauss claws to negate the side effects of your Senses, without negating any of your arcana. I used myself as a test subject. But because my ability to detect magic is a poor substitute for yours, there was much trial and error involved. Many late nights sampling far more potions than one ought to.”
That explained the dark circles, the gauntness of his cheeks, the complexion that was more deathly pale than usual. It was no wonder he’d kept her in the dark. Had she known he was going to spend the past ten nights poisoning himself and forgoing sleep solely for her benefit, she would have put her foot down.
“Don’t get me wrong,” she said, “I appreciate it, but why go through all that trouble?”
“We’ll soon be taking more frequent trips to the University. Eventually, we’ll return there full time.” He smiled. “We’ll never get any work done if you’re having endless headaches and chills.”
She nodded as her heart sank. Of course he’d done all of this for practical reasons; a useful tool needed to be kept in prime working condition. It was ridiculous to hope, if only for a second, there had been more to it than that.
His smile faded. Softly, he said, “When your Senses overwhelmed you so much, you could hardly breathe…” He lowered his eyes as he raked his fingers through his hair. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought back to that. And later that day, when you drank that tea, I knew I could find some way to help you. Not to remove your Senses altogether, but to give you more than a single moment of relief.”
He took another step forward and, just as he’d done in the corridor outside Nezima’s classroom, he touched her shoulder. She glanced at his hand, then upward, until her eyes met his. His gaze was so soft, so focused, a different instinct urged her to look away. But she held it, even as her pulse raced and the air around her became sweltering.
“I once said I would find a way to thank you for cleaning up my messes. I hope this potion is adequate.”
