would happen if he didn’t show another useful talent. So how much talent and skill should he reveal, and how? What would be a safe yet useful skill? After he swallowed the last of the bread and conserves, he left the Meal Hall and wandered along the corridor, glancing into the student common, where he used to study-empty except for the goateed Bealtur, who glanced up at Cerryl, offered a polite smile, and returned to the tome before him.
Bealtur had been so certain he would be made a full mage before Cerryl, and he hadn’t been. So had Kesrik, before Kesrik had been maneuvered into trying to trap Cerryl in a terrible mistake. Instead, Kesrik had been found out and destroyed in a blaze of fire by the High Wizard. Except… Cerryl knew full well that while Kesrik had probably tried to poison Cerryl, the brigands that had attacked Cerryl when he was on sewer duty had been sent by Anya, disguised as Kesrik. Cerryl still had no idea why the redheaded mage had tried that, but he watched her as closely as he could and avoided her as circumspectly as possible.
What else could he do? Most mages were restrained by the fact that the High Wizard, the two overmages, and a few others had the power to “truth-read” and discover plots. But Anya was under Jeslek’s protection, and he was not only overmage but also possibly the most powerful chaos wielder in centuries. Cerryl’s most reliable protection, until he mastered more chaos skills, was concealment, but developing skills and keeping them hidden could only get harder.
He crossed the courtyard to the last Hall, the one with the smallest rooms, and went up the steps to his own quarters, nearly all the way to the back. Once inside his room, he took a deep breath and extracted Colors of White from the bookcase. He had most of the day. Perhaps he could find some ideas there.
Perhaps…
VIII
Cerryl walked past the fountain in the courtyard between the main Hall and the rear Hall. His feet ached, and his head throbbed-the former because he’d walked across the guardhouse ramparts too much during the day and the latter because he’d practiced using the light/ invisibility cloak too much. Kinowin had been perfunctory in his questions, as though the overmage’s mind had been elsewhere, and Cerryl hadn’t mentioned his aches, knowing that Kinowin wouldn’t have been terribly sympathetic.
Despite the deep dusk, the courtyard was hot, and the fountain spray across Cerryl’s face felt welcome.
“Hello there.”
He looked up to see blonde hair and a green short-sleeved shirt and armless tunic of darker green-and another mage. Lyasa and Leyladin stood in a corner, also enjoying the cool of the fountain court. Cerryl turned and joined them, the immediacy of his various aches subsiding. “When did you get back?”
“I’ve been here all along.” Lyasa grinned.
“This afternoon, a little past midday.” Leyladin offered a warm smile. “I came in the southwest gate.”
“Leyladin, Cerryl,” Lyasa interjected, “I need to go. Anya has requested my presence for supper.”
Cerryl winced.
“Her preferences don’t run that way,” said Lyasa lightly, “but it will be interesting to see what she wants.”
“Be careful.” Cerryl worried about anything involving Anya.
“I always have to be careful. That’s the everyday rule for women… and Blacks.” Lyasa nodded to Leyladin. “I hope we can talk before-”
“Tomorrow morning?”
“I can do that. It’s my last free morning before I take over duty on the west gate.” Lyasa grimaced.
“You’re going on gate duty?” asked Cerryl.
“Don’t all new mages? Kinowin was just waiting for Elsinot to finish a reasonable tour.”
“Elsinot?” Another mage Cerryl didn’t know, at least by name.
“Blocky, brown-haired-he seems nice enough. He’ll take the relief duties now. You’re lucky. You’ll probably get morning duty in the summer.”
Cerryl wasn’t sure if that would be luck, to get up even
Bealtur had been so certain he would be made a full mage before Cerryl, and he hadn’t been. So had Kesrik, before Kesrik had been maneuvered into trying to trap Cerryl in a terrible mistake. Instead, Kesrik had been found out and destroyed in a blaze of fire by the High Wizard. Except… Cerryl knew full well that while Kesrik had probably tried to poison Cerryl, the brigands that had attacked Cerryl when he was on sewer duty had been sent by Anya, disguised as Kesrik. Cerryl still had no idea why the redheaded mage had tried that, but he watched her as closely as he could and avoided her as circumspectly as possible.
What else could he do? Most mages were restrained by the fact that the High Wizard, the two overmages, and a few others had the power to “truth-read” and discover plots. But Anya was under Jeslek’s protection, and he was not only overmage but also possibly the most powerful chaos wielder in centuries. Cerryl’s most reliable protection, until he mastered more chaos skills, was concealment, but developing skills and keeping them hidden could only get harder.
He crossed the courtyard to the last Hall, the one with the smallest rooms, and went up the steps to his own quarters, nearly all the way to the back. Once inside his room, he took a deep breath and extracted Colors of White from the bookcase. He had most of the day. Perhaps he could find some ideas there.
Perhaps…
VIII
Cerryl walked past the fountain in the courtyard between the main Hall and the rear Hall. His feet ached, and his head throbbed-the former because he’d walked across the guardhouse ramparts too much during the day and the latter because he’d practiced using the light/ invisibility cloak too much. Kinowin had been perfunctory in his questions, as though the overmage’s mind had been elsewhere, and Cerryl hadn’t mentioned his aches, knowing that Kinowin wouldn’t have been terribly sympathetic.
Despite the deep dusk, the courtyard was hot, and the fountain spray across Cerryl’s face felt welcome.
“Hello there.”
He looked up to see blonde hair and a green short-sleeved shirt and armless tunic of darker green-and another mage. Lyasa and Leyladin stood in a corner, also enjoying the cool of the fountain court. Cerryl turned and joined them, the immediacy of his various aches subsiding. “When did you get back?”
“I’ve been here all along.” Lyasa grinned.
“This afternoon, a little past midday.” Leyladin offered a warm smile. “I came in the southwest gate.”
“Leyladin, Cerryl,” Lyasa interjected, “I need to go. Anya has requested my presence for supper.”
Cerryl winced.
“Her preferences don’t run that way,” said Lyasa lightly, “but it will be interesting to see what she wants.”
“Be careful.” Cerryl worried about anything involving Anya.
“I always have to be careful. That’s the everyday rule for women… and Blacks.” Lyasa nodded to Leyladin. “I hope we can talk before-”
“Tomorrow morning?”
“I can do that. It’s my last free morning before I take over duty on the west gate.” Lyasa grimaced.
“You’re going on gate duty?” asked Cerryl.
“Don’t all new mages? Kinowin was just waiting for Elsinot to finish a reasonable tour.”
“Elsinot?” Another mage Cerryl didn’t know, at least by name.
“Blocky, brown-haired-he seems nice enough. He’ll take the relief duties now. You’re lucky. You’ll probably get morning duty in the summer.”
Cerryl wasn’t sure if that would be luck, to get up even
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