Page 74 of A Tower of Half-Truths
“No, I severed those ties years ago.”
“Then I fail to see the problem.”
“But you said you couldn’t associate with a criminal.”
He furrowed his brow, then realization crossed his face. “Oh, you’re referring to what I said about Enid. Well, that’s different. She’s just my…and you’re…” He sighed. “You might havelied about why you came here, but what of everything since? Everything you’ve done as my assistant, as my friend, was that also a—”
“No. All of it was real.” She held his gaze, searching for a sign that he believed her. “And I want to continue being both, if you’ll still have me after all this.”
“Then how about we forget about the past and start anew?” He removed his right hand from her shoulder and held it in front of her. “Hello, I’m Alain Tesseraunt.”
She choked out a laugh as she blinked away tears. “Hello, Alain. I’m Mavery Culwich.”
They shook hands.
“A pleasure to meet you, Mavery. Would you do me the honor of being my assistant?”
She smiled. “Yes, I would.”
“Wonderful. As your wizard, I promise to not be reckless with my spellcraft.”
“And as your assistant, I promise to not rob you.”
“Then I say we have a deal.”
When he embraced her this time, she allowed herself to relax into him, to let her head nestle against the crook of his neck, to let him stroke her hair as the last of her tears fell upon his shoulder.
Her confession hadn’t dispelled her guilt entirely. But it was enough for her to savor being held like this. It was enough for her to believe that, when the sun rose in a few hours’ time, a new day would break, and the two of them would continue on as before. Only now, there would be fewer secrets between them.
Part Two
The Scholar
Twenty-Three
Mavery slammed the dictionary shut and threw down her pen.
“Experiencing the joys of research, are we?” Alain asked from across the room. They had traded places for the day: while she worked at his desk, translating Enodus’s treatise on Sensing from Fenutian to Osperlandish, he was stretched out on the sofa with a stack of books at his side.
“Oh, hush.” She rolled her eyes, though her back was turned to him. “There’s a word I don’t recognize. Here’s the full sentence: ‘According to one local folklorist, Sensing is a form of K-T-O-N-I-C magic.’ Do you recognize that ‘k’-word?”
“It’s not Fenutian?”
“Doesn’t look like it, and it’s not in the dictionary.”
“Let me see.”
Alain closed his book, then crossed the room. He cast a shadow over Mavery as he leaned over her shoulder, one hand on the back of her chair while the other reached for her translation.
Four days had passed since his accident. Since then, his eyes had become less sunken from getting more consistent sleep. His face was a bit fuller from eating more substantial meals. He’d even managed to keep his beard neatly trimmed and his hair combed.
Now, as he reviewed her work, Mavery breathed in a headyaroma of ink, bergamot, and a hint of orange blossom that she suspected came from the new soap she’d spotted in the bathroom. It was difficult to focus on anything else.
“ ‘Kay-tonic’?” Alain shook his head. “No, ‘kuh-tone-ick’ seems the more likely pronunciation.”
“Do you know what it means?”
“Not a clue. I’ve never seen it before.”
