Prodigy of Thunder, page 54
“Apreyo,” she incanted, and the pieces moved and jumped back into place, until the pitcher was soon whole again, having sealed with a satisfying white light. As Prigmathani swooped in to inspect her workmanship, Anna lowered her hands and stepped back.
“A perfect repair,” Prigmathani declared.
Anna stared straight ahead, feeling his gaze upon her face. She refused to yield any more signs of emotion to this strange man she did not understand, a man who had manhandled her so cruelly, a man who she loathed—but grudgingly began to respect.
“Aspirant Stone, you shall now demonstrate for me your competence in the standard 1st degree spell Unconceal. This is a timed trial and you will only have one opportunity to succeed. I have hidden a pearl in that sandbox there. On my mark, you will cast Unconceal and find it within thirty heartbeats. Failure to do so will result in disqualification. Ready yourself.”
Anna stepped before a line of sandboxes. To her right, Jordan was already frantically digging, while to her left William was sussing out the pull of intent from the many other sandbox tugs.
Jordan thrust a pearl aloft, yelling, “Yes!” and pumping his fist. William soon did the same, and Anna was happy for them both.
“Mark!” Prigmathani barked, and Anna stepped onto the sand. But instead of rushing, she took a deep breath and, once she had mustered up her focus, she spread her fingers, incanting, “Un vun deo.” She immediately felt a slew of tugs and filtered out the strongest one, which should be the closest. Interestingly, it pointed beyond the sandbox. Suspecting it a decoy, she dropped to her knees on the sand and hovered her hand along the surface. She quickly picked up on a gentle and deep tug and began furiously digging with her other hand whilst maintaining her grip on the spell.
“Ten heartbeats remain,” Prigmathani announced. “Eight … seven …”
Anna dropped the spell and shoveled with both hands.
“Three … two—”
Anna felt the pearl in the sand and thrust it aloft. “Got it!” she shouted at the same time as Prigmathani said, “One.”
“You did not locate the pearl in sufficient time, Aspirant Stone. Therefore you are disqualified—”
“Arbiter!” Anna called, having none of it.
Roth, who had been watching them from nearby, strode over.
“I found it at the exact moment he called one heartbeat,” Anna declared. “I believe that under the rules a tie goes to the aspirant.”
Roth glanced between Prigmathani, whose face had tightened, and Anna. “That is indeed the case. I thus rule in favor of the aspirant.”
Prigmathani showed no emotion as he turned to face the audience. “Pass!” he shouted in a clear voice and turned back to Anna to nod his acknowledgment of her success. But Anna instead bowed her head toward Roth and then turned her back on the man, who surely knew the rule. Had he been testing her? If so, what a wretched thing to do. On a mere technicality, he would have delayed her a whole term as she would have had to repeat the entire class.
And just like that, she lost respect for him again.
She strode off the stage—and kept striding, her steps turning into a jog and then a run as a great smile split her cheeks, for she had passed and, even should she fail 1st degree Advanced Arcane Studies and Dual Elements Studies, as they were electives, she would be receiving her first stripe!
She shot through the portal that led to the courtyard and glanced around … but all she saw were other students either hugging their parents or being consoled by them or, in a few awful cases, being yelled at or led away by the ear, the poor wretches. It had begun to snow and people looked like figurines in a painting, vanishing into the snowfall like ghosts—
“Anna.”
Anna whirled about and her heart soared, for there stood her lone father—and he seemed to have aged since the last time she had seen him. His curly hair was now completely gray, there were extra wrinkles above his thoughtful brow, and he even appeared a touch shorter. But his turquoise robe, the robe of a 17th degree grandmage, was as spotless and vibrant as ever.
He opened his arms. “It feels like every time I see you, you have grown another foot.”
Anna burst with a cry and jumped into those arms. She squeezed him tightly, cherishing the scent of his juniper oils, which reminded her of home. How she missed those long days of quiet study, of his focused attention correcting her when she’d stray on a principle! And how she longed for the chatty suppers, the moments by the fire, tea steaming as fat snowflakes tumbled past the windows …
“I didn’t think you’d come, Papa … I didn’t think you’d come …”
He set her down and held her by the shoulders at arm’s length, even though she would have preferred to cling to him just a little bit longer. “How could I miss one of the most important days of my daughter’s life? Now let me see if I can guess how things went.” He made a show of concentrating, his thick eyebrows dancing this way and that. “Hmm …”
“Oh, Papa, stop it!”
“Hmm …”
“Really, Papa, how can you dwell so?”
“Hmm …”
She finally whapped his arms aside and folded her own, pretending to be upset.
“You know, I do believe, by the grace of the gods and by the thin hem of your robe, you just may have passed …”
“Ugh, of course I passed!”
He opened his palms skyward. “Well, who would have guessed that I have such a brilliant daughter? Who? Come here, kiddo—” And he opened those hands to her and she launched herself into his arms again and she laughed and he laughed, singing, “Congratulations, my child! Congratulations! I knew you would do it, I knew!” He twirled her and she felt like the happiest girl in Sithesia.
And then he stopped twirling her to frown at her hands. “Could you be wearing that hated mustard yellow?”
“I was forced to put it on by a villainous bully of a woman who—”
“You little liar you.”
“All right, I may have worn it in honor of a certain father …”
“A father who is most proud of his daughter’s accomplishment.”
“And Papa, I learned all sorts of neat skills, like how to make an hourglass trickle—oh and I have to tell you all about Teleswing!”
“Teleswing? Really? Surely you have not attempted such a daring skill …” But when he put her down, Anna spotted Deya standing nearby, face sagging with heartbreak.
“Deya,” Anna blurted, as if having been caught cheating on an exam.
“And there is my other daughter! Come give your old father a hug.”
But Deya strode up to him and only folded her arms across her chest. “How come you didn’t greet me like you did her, Father? Are my successes no longer worthy?”
“Dey-Dey, that is such a silly thing to say! We are talking about Anna’s very first stripe! Do you not recall how I twirled you about upon hearing of your victory too? How we marched you straight into town and showered you with gifts and a feast and then how we celebrated at home—”
“You’re giving it to her, aren’t you?” Deya interrupted, tears streaming down her face.
“What … what are you talking about? Come here and give your old father a squeeze and let us—”
“You know what I’m talking about! You know, Father. And I can see it on your face and I know you’re going to tell her soon and, and, and yet I’ve worked so, so hard to be good and live up to your expectations and earn that right and be loved as strongly by you and … instead you’re giving it to her and she’s … she’s so undeserving, Father …” Her words were a bare whisper now, chin trembling as the tears flowed freely. “She’s so undeserving …”
“But you surely know I love you just as much as—”
“I don’t know that. I don’t, Father.” Deya’s nostrils flared as she raised her chin, shaking from the struggle of trying to control herself. “I think what you’ve done is cruel—and not the good, trendy cruel, but the awful, broken-heart cruel. I think you used me as a muse for your … your stupid arcane experiments and your so-called heroic exploits and you’ve always known you’re going to give it to her, only because you think her heart is so much purer than mine, because she’s your little princess angel and I’m the older, meaner sister who can’t overcome her selfishness, her own ambition.”
She thrust an accusing finger into his face. “But you made me this ambitious! You did! You, you, you! You trained me! You made me hard and strong and proud! You took me to all those tournaments! And I won them and I won your praise but then your attention started drifting when she became interesting and I saw—I saw! Your mind spun thinking of the ancestral lineage and its expectations and you made the decision long ago!”
She dropped her arm. “Admit it. You love her more than me. Just say it and be done with it. Admit it and tell us both that you are going to give it to her and not me and that I will be useless to you and … and …” Yet her voice failed her, and all that remained was that trembling chin.
Their father straightened to his full height. “I will hear no such nonsense from you, Dradeya Atticus Stone. That is your mother talking—”
“Just say it!” Deya roared, fists balled. “Just say it and be done with it—”
“But it would be a lie—”
“Not unlike your life, Father. A lie!” She whirled on her heel and stormed off.
Father took a few steps after her. “Dey-Dey! Dey-Dey—!” But she vanished into the towering portal. He scratched the back of his neck. “I cannot fathom her. How has she grown so bold yet … yet it is like her mind has been poisoned!” He turned on Anna. “What did you say to her?”
“What? I said nothing, Papa!”
Father stepped before her and grabbed her by the arms. “Anna, I want you to be truthful. What did you tell her to make her so upset?”
“I swear I didn’t say anything, Papa!”
He shook her. “What did you say to her, Anna?”
“Nothing, Papa! Nothing—”
He continued shaking her. “What did you say to my daughter? What did you say to turn her against me so?”
“Nothing, papa, I swear!” Anna burst with a cry as she gurgled, “I tried and tried and tried to make her love me and for us to work together like you wanted but all she cares about is whatever it is you have and that’s all she ever thinks about now—besides trying to impress you and …” But Anna couldn’t get the words out because she was breathing so deeply she couldn’t speak and suddenly things were spinning and she was losing the threads of herself.
Until her father drew her into a loving embrace. “Oh, Anna, I’m so sorry … I’m so sorry … of course you did nothing wrong. Of course …”
She clung on, shoulders heaving. With one simple accusation he had torn her apart and her facade had come crumbling down, exposing how vulnerable she truly was. And how she hated herself for it, for being so weak and helpless!
He set her down and took a knee before her like a knight of old and wiped her tears with his thumbs, her head now hovering well above his even though she once remembered being at eye level with him, and not too long ago looking up at him as if he were a giant of intelligence and thoughtfulness and wisdom and love and invulnerability …
“I suppose you have two more examinations, is that right?”
She nodded, words still caught in her tight throat.
“And if I recall correctly that would be 1st degree Advanced Arcane Studies and Dual Elements Studies, is that not so?”
She nodded, impressed he had memorized her timetable.
“And Deya has 3rd degree Nobility and Class Studies and her 6th degree Trainer.”
Anna nodded, but to her shame she did not know her sister’s timetable.
Father stood, looking to the portal. “And then I believe she has her sisterhood meeting.”
And at that moment, with him staring at the dense blackness of the academy portal, Anna realized how deeply he loved Deya. Yet her sister was right; he hadn’t shown it much. For whatever reason, he had heaped most of his love on Anna. She could have commented on this. Could have asked why that was, but the truth was she was afraid of the answer, afraid of what he would say. And it already felt like her life was in such turmoil after everything that had happened, and she had placed them all in great danger by exposing them to Veruca Valence, the Skull Stalker …
“Papa?”
“Mmm?”
“Are … are you all right?”
“Mmm.” Yet he stared after his other daughter. Perhaps he saw his failings in her, or perhaps he saw the wife he had lost. But Anna could not bear him staring after Deya for so long and so she cleared her throat and forced herself to say something normal.
“How is the home?”
Father turned his attention back to her with a distant gaze. “Hmm?”
“The home. How is it?”
“Empty.”
She swallowed. She was making things worse. “Have you heard from Panza?”
His gaze had drifted to the portal again.
“Papa? Have you heard from Panza?”
“No.”
“Papa?”
“Mmm?”
“Papa—”
“What? What is it?”
“Has … has Veruca tried to find you?”
A shadow fell across his face. Snow settled on his thick eyebrows and gray hair, and he seemed to age even more before her eyes.
“When is your advancement ceremony?” he asked rather coldly.
“It’s tomorrow,” she replied, even though he had to know, for it was a sacred day in warlock culture. A hundred years ago it had been held the night of the final exam, but times had changed. Afterward came the first day of Endyear and the Star Feast and Merrygive and all the other wonderful festivities that made up the ten days prior to New Year’s Day …
He looked past her. “Today is the winter hallmote. The winter head tax is due, as are the other taxes. I need to pay them and attend to—”
“I have money,” Anna blurted, fumbling for her satchel. “I’ve scrounged some money which you can have I mean I don’t have it all on me because—”
“Anna.”
“—but you can use it to pay all the taxes for you and Mother and me and Deya and—”
“Anna.”
“I’m sorry,” she blurted, cold hands still fumbling at her satchel, at the cursed straps which wouldn’t come undone even though there was little money in there. Frustrated, she upended the entire contents onto the snow and dropped to her knees to dig about, words tumbling forth. “I’m sorry I can’t get the money out but the rest of it’s in my room anyway and I really have a lot at least for me and I’m sorry for stealing your attention away from Deya and poisoning you for her and for poisoning Mother against us and for meddling in things I shouldn’t have meddled in and for being so horribly selfish and thoughtless and reckless and—”
“Anna!”
She looked up at her father from the snow, squeaking, “Y-yes, Papa?”
“I will see you tomorrow.”
“W-what?”
“Tomorrow. I will see you tomorrow.”
She nodded, craving his love, his forgiveness. But he only looked to the portal one last time before growling, “Impetus peragro,” vanishing with a thwomp and leaving her to pick up the contents of her satchel—and pieces of her broken heart.
End of Exams
Anna felt Roth’s gaze, breaking her recollection of what had happened with Father and Deya. She shook off the lingering emotions and refocused.
Question Ninety-nine. All other considerations being equal, what should the difference be between an asymmetric tendril weaving pattern and a parallel tendril weaving pattern?
Out of habit, Anna absently bit her nib with her teeth to keep it sharp, already feeling her tongue was black—as was every other student’s—and dipped her quill into her inkwell.
With all considerations being equal, the difference between an asymmetric tendril weaving pattern and a parallel tendril weaving pattern is—she crossed out is and replaced it with should be—that the noodle matrix in the former has variations on the bilateral sides of each tendril, whereas the latter is uniform, and often simpler in nature.
To others, it was theory. To Anna, she had seen the differences with her own eyes—illegally, of course. Sure, she probably could have worded it better, but she was tired, emotionally and intellectually.
She glanced up at the fat hourglass at the front of the room. Its two-hour reservoir of purple sand had almost trickled out completely, but she still had one question to go. Roth, the teacher of 1st degree Advanced Arcane Studies, hovered near the arbiters. Anna had heard that it was unusual for a headmistress to teach classes, yet Roth was the hands-on type who particularly enjoyed schooling aspirants and 1st degrees.
The first of the third afternoon bells began to gong and Anna hurriedly read through the final question.
Question One Hundred. Mind Armor degenerates with:
a) Cumulative attacks
b) Glancing blows
c) Direct hits
d) All of the above
Anna circled d—and just in time, too, for three things happened simultaneously: the final gong sounded, one of the arbiters at the front called, “Time!” and every single parchment vanished with a whoosh. A collective groan went up from the crowd—even from Anna, despite likely being the only one to have finished. The exam had apparently been designed for the aspirant to choose which questions to omit, but Anna had answered them all. What she had groaned about was not being able to go back and check her answers like she usually did.
As the arbiters began poring over the parchments—with Roth picking a single exam out of the pile to glance at—Anna didn’t waste a heartbeat and withdrew her healing studies book. She strode to her final exam with her nose pressed into the book, reviewing the more complex minutia of the healing element, her satchel floating alongside.
After a long walk, Anna stepped into the calming hall that led to the healing wing, where the Dual Elements Studies exam was scheduled to be held. She walked through the pair of entry doors and passed rows of empty cots. An attendant directed her down meandering corridors until she entered a stuffy room with faded green tiles. The other students were already seated at battered old desks, and those who bothered to look up from their notes greeted her with the usual nearly imperceptible head nod. Anna claimed the closest seat and flipped another page in her book, desperate to review as much as she could.
“A perfect repair,” Prigmathani declared.
Anna stared straight ahead, feeling his gaze upon her face. She refused to yield any more signs of emotion to this strange man she did not understand, a man who had manhandled her so cruelly, a man who she loathed—but grudgingly began to respect.
“Aspirant Stone, you shall now demonstrate for me your competence in the standard 1st degree spell Unconceal. This is a timed trial and you will only have one opportunity to succeed. I have hidden a pearl in that sandbox there. On my mark, you will cast Unconceal and find it within thirty heartbeats. Failure to do so will result in disqualification. Ready yourself.”
Anna stepped before a line of sandboxes. To her right, Jordan was already frantically digging, while to her left William was sussing out the pull of intent from the many other sandbox tugs.
Jordan thrust a pearl aloft, yelling, “Yes!” and pumping his fist. William soon did the same, and Anna was happy for them both.
“Mark!” Prigmathani barked, and Anna stepped onto the sand. But instead of rushing, she took a deep breath and, once she had mustered up her focus, she spread her fingers, incanting, “Un vun deo.” She immediately felt a slew of tugs and filtered out the strongest one, which should be the closest. Interestingly, it pointed beyond the sandbox. Suspecting it a decoy, she dropped to her knees on the sand and hovered her hand along the surface. She quickly picked up on a gentle and deep tug and began furiously digging with her other hand whilst maintaining her grip on the spell.
“Ten heartbeats remain,” Prigmathani announced. “Eight … seven …”
Anna dropped the spell and shoveled with both hands.
“Three … two—”
Anna felt the pearl in the sand and thrust it aloft. “Got it!” she shouted at the same time as Prigmathani said, “One.”
“You did not locate the pearl in sufficient time, Aspirant Stone. Therefore you are disqualified—”
“Arbiter!” Anna called, having none of it.
Roth, who had been watching them from nearby, strode over.
“I found it at the exact moment he called one heartbeat,” Anna declared. “I believe that under the rules a tie goes to the aspirant.”
Roth glanced between Prigmathani, whose face had tightened, and Anna. “That is indeed the case. I thus rule in favor of the aspirant.”
Prigmathani showed no emotion as he turned to face the audience. “Pass!” he shouted in a clear voice and turned back to Anna to nod his acknowledgment of her success. But Anna instead bowed her head toward Roth and then turned her back on the man, who surely knew the rule. Had he been testing her? If so, what a wretched thing to do. On a mere technicality, he would have delayed her a whole term as she would have had to repeat the entire class.
And just like that, she lost respect for him again.
She strode off the stage—and kept striding, her steps turning into a jog and then a run as a great smile split her cheeks, for she had passed and, even should she fail 1st degree Advanced Arcane Studies and Dual Elements Studies, as they were electives, she would be receiving her first stripe!
She shot through the portal that led to the courtyard and glanced around … but all she saw were other students either hugging their parents or being consoled by them or, in a few awful cases, being yelled at or led away by the ear, the poor wretches. It had begun to snow and people looked like figurines in a painting, vanishing into the snowfall like ghosts—
“Anna.”
Anna whirled about and her heart soared, for there stood her lone father—and he seemed to have aged since the last time she had seen him. His curly hair was now completely gray, there were extra wrinkles above his thoughtful brow, and he even appeared a touch shorter. But his turquoise robe, the robe of a 17th degree grandmage, was as spotless and vibrant as ever.
He opened his arms. “It feels like every time I see you, you have grown another foot.”
Anna burst with a cry and jumped into those arms. She squeezed him tightly, cherishing the scent of his juniper oils, which reminded her of home. How she missed those long days of quiet study, of his focused attention correcting her when she’d stray on a principle! And how she longed for the chatty suppers, the moments by the fire, tea steaming as fat snowflakes tumbled past the windows …
“I didn’t think you’d come, Papa … I didn’t think you’d come …”
He set her down and held her by the shoulders at arm’s length, even though she would have preferred to cling to him just a little bit longer. “How could I miss one of the most important days of my daughter’s life? Now let me see if I can guess how things went.” He made a show of concentrating, his thick eyebrows dancing this way and that. “Hmm …”
“Oh, Papa, stop it!”
“Hmm …”
“Really, Papa, how can you dwell so?”
“Hmm …”
She finally whapped his arms aside and folded her own, pretending to be upset.
“You know, I do believe, by the grace of the gods and by the thin hem of your robe, you just may have passed …”
“Ugh, of course I passed!”
He opened his palms skyward. “Well, who would have guessed that I have such a brilliant daughter? Who? Come here, kiddo—” And he opened those hands to her and she launched herself into his arms again and she laughed and he laughed, singing, “Congratulations, my child! Congratulations! I knew you would do it, I knew!” He twirled her and she felt like the happiest girl in Sithesia.
And then he stopped twirling her to frown at her hands. “Could you be wearing that hated mustard yellow?”
“I was forced to put it on by a villainous bully of a woman who—”
“You little liar you.”
“All right, I may have worn it in honor of a certain father …”
“A father who is most proud of his daughter’s accomplishment.”
“And Papa, I learned all sorts of neat skills, like how to make an hourglass trickle—oh and I have to tell you all about Teleswing!”
“Teleswing? Really? Surely you have not attempted such a daring skill …” But when he put her down, Anna spotted Deya standing nearby, face sagging with heartbreak.
“Deya,” Anna blurted, as if having been caught cheating on an exam.
“And there is my other daughter! Come give your old father a hug.”
But Deya strode up to him and only folded her arms across her chest. “How come you didn’t greet me like you did her, Father? Are my successes no longer worthy?”
“Dey-Dey, that is such a silly thing to say! We are talking about Anna’s very first stripe! Do you not recall how I twirled you about upon hearing of your victory too? How we marched you straight into town and showered you with gifts and a feast and then how we celebrated at home—”
“You’re giving it to her, aren’t you?” Deya interrupted, tears streaming down her face.
“What … what are you talking about? Come here and give your old father a squeeze and let us—”
“You know what I’m talking about! You know, Father. And I can see it on your face and I know you’re going to tell her soon and, and, and yet I’ve worked so, so hard to be good and live up to your expectations and earn that right and be loved as strongly by you and … instead you’re giving it to her and she’s … she’s so undeserving, Father …” Her words were a bare whisper now, chin trembling as the tears flowed freely. “She’s so undeserving …”
“But you surely know I love you just as much as—”
“I don’t know that. I don’t, Father.” Deya’s nostrils flared as she raised her chin, shaking from the struggle of trying to control herself. “I think what you’ve done is cruel—and not the good, trendy cruel, but the awful, broken-heart cruel. I think you used me as a muse for your … your stupid arcane experiments and your so-called heroic exploits and you’ve always known you’re going to give it to her, only because you think her heart is so much purer than mine, because she’s your little princess angel and I’m the older, meaner sister who can’t overcome her selfishness, her own ambition.”
She thrust an accusing finger into his face. “But you made me this ambitious! You did! You, you, you! You trained me! You made me hard and strong and proud! You took me to all those tournaments! And I won them and I won your praise but then your attention started drifting when she became interesting and I saw—I saw! Your mind spun thinking of the ancestral lineage and its expectations and you made the decision long ago!”
She dropped her arm. “Admit it. You love her more than me. Just say it and be done with it. Admit it and tell us both that you are going to give it to her and not me and that I will be useless to you and … and …” Yet her voice failed her, and all that remained was that trembling chin.
Their father straightened to his full height. “I will hear no such nonsense from you, Dradeya Atticus Stone. That is your mother talking—”
“Just say it!” Deya roared, fists balled. “Just say it and be done with it—”
“But it would be a lie—”
“Not unlike your life, Father. A lie!” She whirled on her heel and stormed off.
Father took a few steps after her. “Dey-Dey! Dey-Dey—!” But she vanished into the towering portal. He scratched the back of his neck. “I cannot fathom her. How has she grown so bold yet … yet it is like her mind has been poisoned!” He turned on Anna. “What did you say to her?”
“What? I said nothing, Papa!”
Father stepped before her and grabbed her by the arms. “Anna, I want you to be truthful. What did you tell her to make her so upset?”
“I swear I didn’t say anything, Papa!”
He shook her. “What did you say to her, Anna?”
“Nothing, Papa! Nothing—”
He continued shaking her. “What did you say to my daughter? What did you say to turn her against me so?”
“Nothing, papa, I swear!” Anna burst with a cry as she gurgled, “I tried and tried and tried to make her love me and for us to work together like you wanted but all she cares about is whatever it is you have and that’s all she ever thinks about now—besides trying to impress you and …” But Anna couldn’t get the words out because she was breathing so deeply she couldn’t speak and suddenly things were spinning and she was losing the threads of herself.
Until her father drew her into a loving embrace. “Oh, Anna, I’m so sorry … I’m so sorry … of course you did nothing wrong. Of course …”
She clung on, shoulders heaving. With one simple accusation he had torn her apart and her facade had come crumbling down, exposing how vulnerable she truly was. And how she hated herself for it, for being so weak and helpless!
He set her down and took a knee before her like a knight of old and wiped her tears with his thumbs, her head now hovering well above his even though she once remembered being at eye level with him, and not too long ago looking up at him as if he were a giant of intelligence and thoughtfulness and wisdom and love and invulnerability …
“I suppose you have two more examinations, is that right?”
She nodded, words still caught in her tight throat.
“And if I recall correctly that would be 1st degree Advanced Arcane Studies and Dual Elements Studies, is that not so?”
She nodded, impressed he had memorized her timetable.
“And Deya has 3rd degree Nobility and Class Studies and her 6th degree Trainer.”
Anna nodded, but to her shame she did not know her sister’s timetable.
Father stood, looking to the portal. “And then I believe she has her sisterhood meeting.”
And at that moment, with him staring at the dense blackness of the academy portal, Anna realized how deeply he loved Deya. Yet her sister was right; he hadn’t shown it much. For whatever reason, he had heaped most of his love on Anna. She could have commented on this. Could have asked why that was, but the truth was she was afraid of the answer, afraid of what he would say. And it already felt like her life was in such turmoil after everything that had happened, and she had placed them all in great danger by exposing them to Veruca Valence, the Skull Stalker …
“Papa?”
“Mmm?”
“Are … are you all right?”
“Mmm.” Yet he stared after his other daughter. Perhaps he saw his failings in her, or perhaps he saw the wife he had lost. But Anna could not bear him staring after Deya for so long and so she cleared her throat and forced herself to say something normal.
“How is the home?”
Father turned his attention back to her with a distant gaze. “Hmm?”
“The home. How is it?”
“Empty.”
She swallowed. She was making things worse. “Have you heard from Panza?”
His gaze had drifted to the portal again.
“Papa? Have you heard from Panza?”
“No.”
“Papa?”
“Mmm?”
“Papa—”
“What? What is it?”
“Has … has Veruca tried to find you?”
A shadow fell across his face. Snow settled on his thick eyebrows and gray hair, and he seemed to age even more before her eyes.
“When is your advancement ceremony?” he asked rather coldly.
“It’s tomorrow,” she replied, even though he had to know, for it was a sacred day in warlock culture. A hundred years ago it had been held the night of the final exam, but times had changed. Afterward came the first day of Endyear and the Star Feast and Merrygive and all the other wonderful festivities that made up the ten days prior to New Year’s Day …
He looked past her. “Today is the winter hallmote. The winter head tax is due, as are the other taxes. I need to pay them and attend to—”
“I have money,” Anna blurted, fumbling for her satchel. “I’ve scrounged some money which you can have I mean I don’t have it all on me because—”
“Anna.”
“—but you can use it to pay all the taxes for you and Mother and me and Deya and—”
“Anna.”
“I’m sorry,” she blurted, cold hands still fumbling at her satchel, at the cursed straps which wouldn’t come undone even though there was little money in there. Frustrated, she upended the entire contents onto the snow and dropped to her knees to dig about, words tumbling forth. “I’m sorry I can’t get the money out but the rest of it’s in my room anyway and I really have a lot at least for me and I’m sorry for stealing your attention away from Deya and poisoning you for her and for poisoning Mother against us and for meddling in things I shouldn’t have meddled in and for being so horribly selfish and thoughtless and reckless and—”
“Anna!”
She looked up at her father from the snow, squeaking, “Y-yes, Papa?”
“I will see you tomorrow.”
“W-what?”
“Tomorrow. I will see you tomorrow.”
She nodded, craving his love, his forgiveness. But he only looked to the portal one last time before growling, “Impetus peragro,” vanishing with a thwomp and leaving her to pick up the contents of her satchel—and pieces of her broken heart.
End of Exams
Anna felt Roth’s gaze, breaking her recollection of what had happened with Father and Deya. She shook off the lingering emotions and refocused.
Question Ninety-nine. All other considerations being equal, what should the difference be between an asymmetric tendril weaving pattern and a parallel tendril weaving pattern?
Out of habit, Anna absently bit her nib with her teeth to keep it sharp, already feeling her tongue was black—as was every other student’s—and dipped her quill into her inkwell.
With all considerations being equal, the difference between an asymmetric tendril weaving pattern and a parallel tendril weaving pattern is—she crossed out is and replaced it with should be—that the noodle matrix in the former has variations on the bilateral sides of each tendril, whereas the latter is uniform, and often simpler in nature.
To others, it was theory. To Anna, she had seen the differences with her own eyes—illegally, of course. Sure, she probably could have worded it better, but she was tired, emotionally and intellectually.
She glanced up at the fat hourglass at the front of the room. Its two-hour reservoir of purple sand had almost trickled out completely, but she still had one question to go. Roth, the teacher of 1st degree Advanced Arcane Studies, hovered near the arbiters. Anna had heard that it was unusual for a headmistress to teach classes, yet Roth was the hands-on type who particularly enjoyed schooling aspirants and 1st degrees.
The first of the third afternoon bells began to gong and Anna hurriedly read through the final question.
Question One Hundred. Mind Armor degenerates with:
a) Cumulative attacks
b) Glancing blows
c) Direct hits
d) All of the above
Anna circled d—and just in time, too, for three things happened simultaneously: the final gong sounded, one of the arbiters at the front called, “Time!” and every single parchment vanished with a whoosh. A collective groan went up from the crowd—even from Anna, despite likely being the only one to have finished. The exam had apparently been designed for the aspirant to choose which questions to omit, but Anna had answered them all. What she had groaned about was not being able to go back and check her answers like she usually did.
As the arbiters began poring over the parchments—with Roth picking a single exam out of the pile to glance at—Anna didn’t waste a heartbeat and withdrew her healing studies book. She strode to her final exam with her nose pressed into the book, reviewing the more complex minutia of the healing element, her satchel floating alongside.
After a long walk, Anna stepped into the calming hall that led to the healing wing, where the Dual Elements Studies exam was scheduled to be held. She walked through the pair of entry doors and passed rows of empty cots. An attendant directed her down meandering corridors until she entered a stuffy room with faded green tiles. The other students were already seated at battered old desks, and those who bothered to look up from their notes greeted her with the usual nearly imperceptible head nod. Anna claimed the closest seat and flipped another page in her book, desperate to review as much as she could.
