Page 73 of A Tower of Half-Truths
“My record pales in comparison to those of the Elder Wizards,” he said. “Collectively, the High Council has died hundreds of deaths. Seringoth alone has died over fifty times, and one of his resurrections was performed by yours truly.”
If cheering her up had been his intention, he’d failed miserably. Her stomach clenched just thinking of how many times Alain had been stabbed with that needle—or had undergone whatever gruesome procedure a Resurrectionist performed. His scars were permanent reminders of his many close calls, though knowing they had that in common gave her little comfort at this precise moment.
“Seringoth may have died fifty times, but he’s ancient,” she said. “You’re only thirty-four. A dozen resurrections at your age can’t be… That can’t benormal, can it?”
“If it helps you feel any better, it had been over two years since my last. I might have been imprudent tonight, but this is nothingcompared to how I used to be. I once had four resurrections in a single year.”
She frowned. “I can’t sayanyof that helps me feel better.”
“Well, regardless of how many times I’ve been through it, thank you for bringing me back.”
He placed his hand on her shoulder again as he gave her a look she recognized all too well. She’d often been on the receiving end of it after several pints of ale, a particularly thrilling score, or a closer-than-expected brush with death. If recent events didn’t count as the latter, she didn’t know what would. A small part of her wouldn’t have minded that look—and everything that would follow it—had guilt not been clawing at her insides.
“Don’t thank me,” she said. “There’s something I need to tell you—something I should have told you ages ago.”
For a moment, she struggled to find the words. She couldonly stare at her lap. Alain’s hand released her shoulder, skimmed down her arm. His fingertips brushed the back of her hand, then hesitated. Her eyes met the soft gaze that, as he’d lain lifelessly on the floor, she’d longed to see again. But now it made her stomach twist into knots, her throat tighten.
“If this is about your lack of education,” he said softly, “you have nothing to be ashamed of. As I already told you, I don’t care about any of that. What you did just now only confirms that you’re worthy of being my assistant.”
“It’s not about that. And no, I’mnotworthy.” Her hands clenched into fists. No matter what happened next, he deserved the truth. “When I arrived at your door nearly six weeks ago, my aim wasn’t to become your assistant, but to rob you.”
She continued to gaze downward; she couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye.
“R-rob me?” He laughed weakly. “You’re joking…er, aren’t you?”
She shook her head. “Over the years, I’ve been a little of everything: wardbreaker, mage for hire, con artist. I even worked for the Brass Dragons for a time. Before I came to Leyport, I was running with an independent thieving crew. Let’s just say we parted ways on less-than-favorable terms, and I needed an easy score.
“That’s when I came across your ad—your mother’s, I mean—and thought a wizard mad enough to put his address in the newspaper would be the perfect mark. My plan was to impress you with my Sensing abilities and earn your trust. When the time was right, I would rob you of your valuables and skip town.” She shrugged. “But, for what little it’s worth, I changed my mind.”
“So, you came here of your own accord?” Alain asked.
She nodded.
“Nezima didn’t hire you?”
“Nezima?” She looked up, blinked at him. “What does she have to do with—”
Mavery startled as Alain began tolaugh.It wasn’t a soft chuckle like before; he threw his head back as tears beaded in the corners of his eyes. All she could do was stare incredulously as his laughter gave way to another bout of wheezing.
“Alain, what—”
He gasped for breath as he clutched his chest. “Gods, that’s a relief! Well, not the fact that you came here torobme, but I was worried you were working for a disgruntled colleague. I even thought they’d hired an assassin to do me in—and that’s but one of the harebrained ideas I’d concocted.”
She laughed nervously, unsure if he was only saying this to ease the tension. As Alain recovered his breath, the clock continued to tick. She couldn’t help but think of it as the death knell for their partnership, for whatever else existed between them.
Alain shook his head. “I knew I was right when I told my mother those newspaper ads were a terrible idea. But I was worried about my academic reputation when I should have been worried about would-be thieves. This building could have been infested with them, but I only ever attracted the one. I suppose I should consider myself lucky.”
He nudged her shoulder. His smile faltered when she failed to react.
“So, what made you change your mind?” he asked.
“I…” She looked at him. “I decided you were worth more to me than any potential score.”
All this time, she’d expected him to raise his voice, to demand she leave and never return. A tiny part of her wondered if he would turn to his arsenal of spells; even the most unassuming types could be provoked into rage. The last thing she’d expected was for him to lean forward and embrace her. Her eyes widened, her entire body clenched. Surely this had to be some sort of trick.
“I just confessed to being a career criminal! I was even a Brass Dragon once.”
He pulled back, hands still grasping her shoulders. “But you’re not one presently?”
