Sebastien

Month 2, Day 3, Wednesday 2:00 p.m.

The excitement over the simulation chamber lasted through the lunch period, which Sebastien rushed through to focus on homework. However, as she settled into her usual spot near the front of the Practical Casting classroom and waited for Professor Lacer to appear, her thoughts turned back to the weight of her problems.

Specifically, that she was wanted by the coppers and would never have a chance to live and openly practice magic in her real identity.

When a copper crown appeared on her desk and slid forward under the force of Damien’s finger, her gaze trailed up his arm and met his own.

She raised an eyebrow.

“Copper for your thoughts?” he asked, his somewhat embarrassed grin revealing that he understood how banal the joke was.

She snatched up the coin and tucked it away. “My thoughts are worth at least twice that much, but I suppose I’ll give you a discount.” She leaned in to make sure they weren’t overheard. Eyes brightening with excitement, Damien did the same. “I’m wondering about what the Raven Queen stole,” she murmured.

Damien initially looked surprised, but he focused as she continued.

“That book was just one item out of the whole haul from an archaeological expedition, right? Why exactly is it, specifically, so valuable? All of this interest and effort seems a little much for a simple antique, right?”

Damien looked around to make sure no one was listening in. “I read an Aberford Thorndyke story where someone stole an old painting worth ten million gold crowns. If it was old and rare enough, maybe something pre-Cataclysm, some people would be willing to pay a ridiculous amount for it.”

She hadn’t considered that the book could be pre-Cataclysm. She suddenly remembered that she’d cut the leather apart to examine the inside more thoroughly, and then used a mending spell to put it all back together. ‘Surely I didn’t rip apart a prehistoric antique worth ten million gold crowns…right?’ She suppressed a shudder.

Sebastien hesitated, tapping her forefinger nervously against the desk. “What if that’s not it, though?” she asked, her voice even lower. “Because…why wouldn’t they just say so? The fact that it’s all so shrouded in mystery makes me suspicious.”

Damien frowned, humming thoughtfully. “What if she didn’t actually steal a book at all, but they don’t want to reveal what she really took? Maybe she kidnapped someone important and is holding them hostage, but they don’t want to tell the public because…” He trailed off, then shook his head. “Well, I can’t think of a reason why they wouldn’t want to tell anyone about a kidnapping. At least not that doesn’t sound too silly to be real.”

He didn’t notice Sebastien’s deadpan look, continuing with increasing enthusiasm. “Or what if they’re trying to capture her because she has some blackmail on someone important, and they can’t afford to give her what she wants? And they don’t want to kill her because she’s set a dead man’s switch to release the blackmail. Oh! Or maybe she’s cursed someone powerful and rich with a slow death, and they’re trying to find her so she can lift the curse, but don’t want anyone to know. Or—”

Damien stopped, his mouth still open but the excitement draining from his face. He turned to meet her unimpressed gaze. “Sebastien, what if she stole something really, I mean extremely dangerous? Something the University shouldn’t have had in the first place and doesn’t want to admit they lost? They wouldn’t want to tell anyone what it was because they wouldn’t want to panic the masses with the truth. And that would explain why the High Crown is putting so much pressure on Titus. It would even make sense why she’s so bold, because she knows they’re probably wary about pushing her to the point of desperation. But…” He shook his head, taking a relieved breath. “If that were the case, Titus would have definitely called in the Red Guard. That’s the kind of thing they exist to handle, after all. And, I forgot, but I’m pretty sure it really is a book, because I eavesdropped on—well, I overheard—Titus talking about it with one of his investigators some months ago, and he mentioned how the University hadn’t been able to decipher anything useful from the remaining books.”

Before Sebastien could reply, Professor Lacer arrived. After a few minutes showing them variations of fully fleshed-out light-molding spell arrays, he set them to continue their practice with the minimalist arrays allowed.

The understanding she’d gained from Natural Science made the illusion spell easier. Though the placebo effect was a real thing—which Gnorrish had vehemently cautioned them about when trying to teach them how to do experiments—she didn’t think it was just her imagination. The detailed understanding had improved the clarity of her Will, and so she required less sheer force to achieve superior results. It was as if the light wanted to follow her instructions, rather than being forced to do so.

When class ended, Professor Lacer stopped her as she walked by his desk. “Mr. Siverling. Please come to my office Saturday morning. Free up a couple of hours.”

“Why?” she blurted. When he raised his eyebrows, as unimpressed as he had been when she was similarly rude earlier that morning, she cleared her throat and amended, “I mean, I will, but what is the purpose of the meeting? So I can be prepared.”

Lacer stepped slightly closer, palmed his Conduit with one hand, and made a grasping motion with his other.

The air was suddenly so still it almost seemed like a liquid, pressing against the small hairs on her skin with every minute movement. ‘It’s that sound-muffling spell. To anyone trying to eavesdrop, we must seem as if we’re under water.’ She recognized it from when he’d woken her up in the middle of the night to berate her for casting with Will-strain.

“I want to do some tests on that boon you received,” he said, privacy ensured.

Her heart gave a single desperate clench, then started pounding. “What kind of tests?”

“Do not worry. I have no reason to suspect that you or those around you are in danger from it, as I said previously,” he assured her, obviously noting her sudden anxiety and attributing a different reason to it. He paused, then added, “These tests will not invade your privacy or take away your autonomy. I simply wish to learn more about the magic in play and see what clues it might give about the mindset of the caster. I do not believe she acted on a whim, and if it was deliberate, I want to understand why.”

“Oh. Okay,” Sebastien croaked past numb lips before realizing that she should have protested. ‘But what reason could I give?’ she wondered desperately.

“Head along then,” Professor Lacer said, dropping the sound-muffling spell as easily as he’d cast it.

Sebastien tried to control her expression as she left, pressing her hands to her flushed cheeks, lamenting the pale skin that showed her physical responses so easily, but she stopped mid-step and turned back to Lacer. She had some questions that he seemed like the only person who might be able and willing to answer, and perhaps a limited amount of time in which to ask them. ‘He took me as an apprentice, gave me his old Conduit, and even came out in the middle of the night to save me from the Red Guard. Surely he won’t be upset if I just ask? If he doesn’t want to answer, he’s not the type that will be reluctant to say so.’

She walked back toward him, clearing her throat uncomfortably.

“What is wrong?” he asked immediately, throwing up the sound-muffling ward once more. “Do you need to go to the infirmary?”

“I’m fine. I just had some questions, and I don’t know who else to ask.”

He stared at her assessingly for a moment. “Proceed.”

“The Raven Queen… What did she actually steal?”

Professor Lacer adjusted his grip on his Conduit. “I understand your curiosity.” She thought for a moment that he would refuse to tell her more, but he continued. “It was a book, as you have probably heard. As to the exact contents, I am unaware. However, I do know something about the expedition that retrieved it.”

Sebastien’s grip tightened around the strap of her satchel, and she tried not to look too desperately interested.

“I applied to join the expedition but was denied. At the time I considered it to be petty infighting and politics, and thought little of it, but now…” He trailed off, leaving the rest to her imagination. “The expedition went into the Black Wastes.” He nodded at her raised eyebrows. “Yes. All who went were aware of the risks, and they were extremely well supplied. They judged the possible rewards to be worth it. Supposedly, some powerful diviners had found the location of Myrddin’s hermitage, where he spent much of his time in solitude toward the end of his life.”

Sebastien couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath of air.