Page 93 of A Tower of Half-Truths
To Mavery’s surprise, Nezima was blushing slightly; there was a purplish undertone to her slate-colored skin.
“Well, no, it wasn’t about that,” Mavery said. “I once, er…courteda Nilandoren man, so I know a bit about the culture.”
“How very worldly of you,” Nezima said flatly. “In any case, I wouldn’t be able to inform you of much on that matter. I am onlyhalf-Nilandoren, and I was born and raised in this very city.” She drained her glass, then rested her forearms on the table. “So, whatdidyou want to ask me?”
“I wanted to know more about your research. Alain once mentioned something about poison warding.”
Nezima’s embarrassment gave way to faint surprise. Thanks to the wine, it took Mavery a few seconds to recognize her blunder.
“Not even two months, and you’ve dropped his honorific. Curious.” The corner of Nezima’s mouth quirked into a smile. “He is correct: the bulk of my research has been on the convergence of Gardemancy and Alchemy. But I doubt whatever he told you was coupled with admiration and praise.”
Mavery raised her eyebrows, and Nezima’s smile broadened.
“Aventus has always harbored some resentment against me for subjecting my assistants to the hazards of poison research—hazards thatallmy assistants are made fully aware of upfront. It’s a necessary evil, of course, as there’s little use for warding against health tonics.”
“Al—er, Aventus—also said his mother once helped you with a poison warding fabric.”
“Yes, that was what earned me my wizard rank. Priscilla and I have remained good friends ever since.” She settled back in her chair. “As a matter of fact, she told me about the most delightful chat she had with her son this past Finisday. He’s positively smitten with some mystery woman; he could hardly stop talking about her.”
“Is that so?” Mavery said as a warm tingling sensation washed over her. She raised her glass and took another long drink, hoping Nezima and the others would assume the wine was to blame for any sudden change in her demeanor.
“Do you have any idea who his new paramour might be?”
She lowered her glass and met Nezima’s eye. “Not a clue. What he does in his spare time is his own business.”
“Really? From what Wren tells me, the two of you are thick as thieves. Surely he would have toldyousomething.”
Mavery glanced at the other table, where Wren was now dozing in her chair. Had running into her outside the library been a coincidence, or did Wren’s duties go beyond hauling around Nezima’s paperwork?
“I think she misunderstood me,” Mavery said. “We’re on friendly terms. There’s nothing more to it than that.”
She raised her glass again, only to find that it was now empty.
“Please, have another drink on me,” Nezima said. “And while you’re at the bar, order another bottle of Maroban Cinsaut. The 1034 vintage, if they still have it.”
“I owe her this round, Nez,” Selemin said. They grabbed their empty tankard and pushed back their chair. “Besides, I could use a refill myself.”
Mavery, thankful for an excuse to escape Nezima’s scrutiny for a moment, followed Selemin back to the front room. The cigar-smoking scholars were gone, though their haze still lingered.
“I promise Nezima is usually more welcoming,” Selemin said. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her lately.”
Mavery shrugged. “I suppose even academics aren’t immune to gossip.”
They laughed. “That, my friend, is an understatement.”
The two of them approached the bartender, who was in the middle of filling a dozen tankards for a group of men who appeared young enough to be students. Selemin, rather than standing while they waited, pulled up an empty stool.
“While we’re on the topic of scholarly gossip,” they said, “tell me more about that Innominate Temple theory Aventus has cooked up.”
“Oh, that.” Mavery sat in the empty stool beside Selemin. “He thinks the temple is tied to Aganast—or, at the very least, the Order of Asphodel.”
“Can’t say I’ve ever heard that one before. What’s the connection?”
“I’m not sure. He was about to share that part of his research with me, but…” She thought back to how he’d snapped the journal shut and hidden it away. “Something came up. He told me this much: he thinks the temple wasn’t used for worship.”
“I reckon he could be on to something. The Order’s meeting place was a little cabin about a mile or so from the temple’s approximate location.”
“ ‘Approximate’? What,does it move around?”
