Page 45 of Death of the Glass Angel
“Do you play?” Eros asked, thumbing through a deck of cards.
“You’ll have to be more specific,” Gemellus responded as he flipped the chalkboard over and cleared the previous day’s writing.
“Specific?” Eros dropped the deck onto the desk. “Is there more than one kind of card game?”
Gemellus laughed as he picked up a piece of chalk. “There are five separate kinds in Clodia alone, Eros.”
Flummoxed, Eros spread his cards out, nose wrinkled. Janus chuckled and flipped open her notebook.
The other students funneled into the classroom, chattering in small groups. Janus had yet to make any friends. Or acquaintances, really. Eros followed her everywhere, regardless, so she never wanted for company.
Technically, her brother was too young to attend Valeria, but Father allowed him to begin early. The kid would be a mage regardless, even if his human half did not inherit the evoking talent.
“Gem.” Eros looked up, annoying innocence blooming in his bright pink eyes. “Could you teach me to gamble?”
“Do I strike you as a gambler?”
“Yes.” Eros tilted his head. “You dress like one.”
Gemellus paused writing to run a hand down his vest. Janus caught a hint of a rumpled frown on her mentor’s face. “Silence is a virtue, Eros. Especially during lessons.”
Eros nodded solemnly, arranging the cards in the pattern of a flower.
Something flashed behind Janus, and she swiveled in her seat. Two boys at the back of the room were practicing evoking—one hadconjured a puddle of mud in the walkway between desks. The walkways Gemellus always paced during his lectures.
Sinking into her chair, Janus’s eyes darted around. This wouldn’t end well.
Without looking up from the chalkboard, Gemellus flicked his wrist, fingers alighting silver. A pair of handcuffs slammed down on the boy’s wrists and dragged him forward. He lost his balance and tumbled into his own mud puddle.
The filth vanished after covering the boy’s robes and face in mud.
“Thank you for the valuable lesson, Adrescu,” Gemellus said. “When an evoker loses concentration, his spell disappears. But if the memory interacts with the living world, the effects remain.”
Everyone hushed, staring at the unfortunate student as he rose to his feet. Snickering followed, abruptly silencing when Gemellus again flicked his wrist, removing the kid’s shackles.
“Take your seats,” Gemellus ordered.
Eros glanced at Janus with something between awe and abject terror. Knowing a blind man could sense your actions even from across the room. . .
“Today.” Gemellus began as he drew several bending lines on the board. “We’ll be learning about mirages.”
Janus sat forward, leaning on her elbows. This sounded interesting.
“In truth, there’s nothing magical about them. Merely a trick of the light.” Gemellus explained as he finished drawing his diagram.
As Janus carefully copied the diagram and Gemellus’ explanations into her journal, she caught Eros paying more attention to the chalkboard than his cards. Eros, focused? A rare sighting.
He never listened to his sister.
“Janus,” Gemellus called her name. “Can you tell us who Mother Taniyn is?”
“Yes,” Janus answered, tapping her quill on her desk. “She’s the mother dragon of the cefran tribe who live in the Argiris desert.”
“Do you know her story?”
“Not really.”
“Mother Taniyn was born when a lake appeared in the desert. The Argiris saw a great, winged dragon burst from the watery womb and ascend to the sky. When she faded into the clouds, the lake vanished.” Gemellus finished his story with a slight smile.
