Page 54 of Thief of Silver and Souls

That answer doesn’t exactly answer my second question, because I’m not Julita. But maybe she can’t conceive of the encounter going differently than it would have for her.

The shadowy passage opens, and I step into it and down the stairs.

The questions I have for Alek aren’t ones I want to ask in front of the other men, especially under Stavros’s suspicious gaze. When I mentioned to Julita that there was something I’d like to discuss with him before bringing it to the main group, she encouraged me to arrive at the next meeting of our little cabal before it officially started.

The masked scholar has acted awfully wary of me himself, as much as he might want to preserve Julita’s presence. But he’s clearly the one to ask about archaic knowledge that wouldn’t have come up in Stavros’s military training or the gossip of patrons and classmates.

If the scholar can point me to the information I need, it’ll be worth any awkwardness that comes from imposing on him.

It’ll be easier if I know more about him—to avoid sticking my foot in my mouth.

As I descend through the darkness, I pitch my voice even lower. “What’s the story with his mask? Why does he wear it?”

Julita makes a pensive sound.I’ve never seen him without it. It’s not the sort of thing it’s polite to pry about, but I gather that he’s hiding some sort of ugliness about his face—a deformity or a scar or the like.She lets out another light laugh.So obsessed with facts and knowledge and yet so concerned about appearances too.

My skin itches at the slight mocking edge to her tone. If Alek is hiding some unfortunate feature, I can’t help thinking it’s at least as much about his fellow students’ concerns about appearances as about his own.

Having experienced the attitudes around here, I can’t say I’d blame him for wanting whatever kind of shield he can get against their judgments.

I can’t ask anything else, because with my next step, I slip from the magical passage into the room. My formal slippers rasp against the stone floor, and Alek startles where he was bowed over a thick book at the desk.

When he sees it’s me, his stance goes even more stiff. He swipes at his thick black hair and pins me with the piercing gaze that’s turned totally cold again. “What are you doing down here? We’re not due to meet for another hour.”

I splay my hands in an apologetic gesture. “I know. I’m sorry to interrupt. I had a possibility I wanted to pursue before I’m sure it’s worth bringing up with everyone, something I thought might have come up in your research. Julita said you’re often down here ahead of time.”

The set of Alek’s mouth softens at the mention of Julita. His bright brown eyes flick downward and then back up to meet mine again with a different sort of intensity. “Is she… okay? I mean, as much as a person could be, when…”

He makes a vague gesture to encompass the ridiculous situation she and I have found ourselves in.

Even though I don’t really know this man, even though he probably considers me as much of a street rat as Stavros does, the question brings a lump into my throat.

He might be a haughty noble like the rest of them, but he’s still human.

And I know what it’s like to lose someone you care about.

“She seems to be doing all right, considering,” I say lightly. “She definitely has plenty to contribute. What do you think, Julita? How are you holding up?”

Well, I’d obviously prefernotbeing dead, but you do keep things interesting. I’d rather be stuck with you than some vapid priss like Anya.

My lips quirk into a crooked smile. “She finds me an entertaining host.”

Alek blinks and then gives himself a bit of a shake as if gathering his thoughts. “It wouldn’t do for her to be bored, I suppose. What’s the possibility you wanted to look into?”

I have to tread carefully here, making sure that my reasoning sounds logical even though it’s not the real reason I’m asking. “I was wondering about methods of magical suppression. If there are any records or stories of procedures or materials that might dampen unearthly power. Maybe there’s some way we could make it more difficult for the sorcerers to carry out their evil intent while we’re working on proving who they are.”

Alek rubs his bronze-brown jaw, his gaze going distant. “Magical suppression. With the riven sorcerers, the authorities rely on general sedatives to ensure they can’t work their powers, but we can hardly have the entire college in a stupor.”

I manage to stop my smile from tightening. “Obviously. I was hoping there might be a subtler method we could try.”

Or at least, thatIcould try, to get a better grip on the power writhing inside me. After yesterday’s fit of agony over a simple glare, tamping it down feels significantly more urgent than ever before.

The authorities haven’t found any method that would remove the threat of a riven sorcerer’s power completely while leaving them reasonably conscious, but I’ll settle for taking the edge off if I can get that much.

“There is something that might be relevant, though I can’t remember how much detail the records include…” Alek moves toward the door set between two of the many shelves and then hesitates. His body tenses for a moment before he glances my way.

“You may as well come too. We’ll be looking for books on pre-empire history, but the organization down here isn’t ideal.”

I follow him through the door into another archive room, this one at least three times as large as the one we left. Bookcases and open shelving units stretch out in every direction, stacked with leather- and canvas-bound volumes, sheafs of unbound paper, and wax-sealed scrolls. Even the settee squatting amid the maze has several books scattered across its faded cushions.

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