I stopped my horse to get my bearings. Never did well to barge into new situations.
And this was certainly a new situation.
Swever Hall looked like any other pre-Kingdom building with such a grand name: a ridiculously large house built out of the pale gray stone I had seen poking out of the hillsides as I’d ridden in.
I picked out more details as I rode up the horseshoe-shaped driveway. Two three-story wings stood on either side of the central main entrance with carved stone trimming the arched doors and windows. Statues of people holding up swords as they read a book stood on the roof (because who didn’t hold a book to their face while sword fighting?). A bell tower stood at the corner of the near wing, the slightly paler stone telling me it was a more recent addition. Every good school needed a bell tower, of course.
The bare-branched trees that had crowded the road since I’d turned off the highway gave way to a rolling lawn still dormant and snow-dusted from Fallow. About a moon’s time stood between this region and the green of Planting season.
It was what I had expected. Wealth and grandeur had little imagination. Especially here in the central region of the Kingdom, barely a three days’ ride from King’s Place.
And yet I had come.
I’d rather be preparing for a caravan. The longer routes would be picking up again as the weather improved. That’s what I would have been doing—if Vawna hadn’t offered me a job.
A real job. Not just a few hours here and there helping her employees learn how to protect themselves from violent clients, or unloading supplies, or standing in a corner looking menacing when she needed to make an impression. A few hours that were done when I wasn’t on the road.
No, she had wanted me to stay. I didn’t do permanent. I’d tried staying still. It didn’t work for me.
So when that message had arrived from Dynes, when I had heard him say, “They asked me if I knew of anyone who would fit their needs and I recommended you,” and then, “It is only a temporary position at this time,” I had told Vawna about the offer.
“Of course you’re taking that job!” she had replied as I pretended I hadn’t seen the flash of disappointment on her face.
“I will see you in a year,” I had told her and her crew, knowing I would have something else lined up at the end of the year to avoid staying yet again.
I realized I was just sitting on my horse at the end of the driveway, staring at the school building as my thoughts sucked me in. I encouraged Bray to keep walking and steered her toward the massive entry.
We stopped at the bottom of the front stairs and I dismounted before tying Bray to one of the posts lining the side of the driveway. Then I walked up the steps to a set of double doors wide and tall enough for a teamster to drive his load through.
The entry soared above my head as I stepped through the door. Even with the cavernous ceiling and the stone, the room was warm. How many spells had they carved into the walls and ceiling to make that happen? A curving staircase built of dark stone, wide enough for five or six people to climb side-by-side, stretched up the right side of the room, leading to a semi-circular and columned balcony that overlooked the entry. Polished and carved beams supported the domed ceiling far above, a ceiling I now realized was striated with narrow rectangular windows. Wealth and grandeur, indeed. The craft mages required to build this place would have been expensive to hire, even in the pre-Kingdom days when there was less reliance on spells. Or maybe especially because there were fewer spells.
A fireplace taller than me stood centered on the left side wall. Three two-seated sofas ringed the floor before the fireplace. Wide doors stood on either side of the fireplace, benches and sigil-powered lamps set beside both doors. Opposite the front entrance, hallways flanked a dining hall that stretched out from the back of the house. Scents drifted toward me from wherever the kitchen was. I’d been eating mostly hard bread and dried meat since I had left Pucheston and there was a part of me that wanted to skip the introductions and go straight to the food.
An alcove yawned in the right wall where a dark-skinned woman stood behind a large desk, dressed in the simple rusty black color I associated with office workers. The somber long skirt and hip-length short coat made her easy to overlook. I had a feeling that was her intention. “Investigator Nyine Hunter?” the woman inquired.
“Former investigator, yes.” I turned toward her.
“I see.” Her tone said my title wasn’t relevant to her. “I am Secretary Vargaren. Administrator-Minor Solak will be with you shortly.”
“Do I have time to care for my horse?” I asked. There was no reason for Bray to stand out there when she could be tucked into a warm stall with some hay.
“I will call for a stable hand.”
As I turned, I saw a set of double doors set into the wall beside her. Maybe the Administrator’s office?
I stepped back out the door and waited until a man wearing a dusty and plain tunic approached. “Investigator Hunter?” he asked.
That was fast. What kind of enchantments did this school have access to that she had been able to call someone up so quickly? Getting to study the enchantments might be a fun way to pass the year. Well, I had to accept the job first.
I pushed Bray’s reins at him, not even bothering to correct my title. It wasn’t like I had anything else to go by. It wasn’t like our language had a word for “person who has been drifting around the anal sore on the Kingdom’s prosperity known as Pucheston working for people most citizens would consider criminals.”
“Careful,” I told him as his hands reflexively closed over the reins. “She bites some. Never know when.”
“Investigator—” he started, giving me a strange look. He was probably thinking I didn’t know how to handle my own horse. Then Bray snaked her head around and grabbed his upper arm. I smirked at his yelp as I re-entered the Hall. It was funny when she did it to other people. I’d warned him.
After a few minutes of watching people walk through the entryway, all giving me curious glances, a very round man, just a bit shorter than me, hurried in my direction. His skin was light golden-brown, he wore a robe in an orange color a sunset would envy, and what was left of his dark hair was graying.
“Investigator Hunter!” he said brightly through puffing breaths. “I am Administrator-Minor Venshim Solak. Come, come. Let us take a walk through the gardens as we talk, yes? Such a wonderful day for it.”
I wanted to ask if he was certain his heart could take the exercise, but somewhere in my thirty-two years, I’d learned to curb my tongue. Sometimes, anyway. Instead, I merely walked at his side as he led me back out the door and around to the gardens on the left side of the building.
“I expected to see more students,” I commented.
“The graduates left after last year ended, of course,” he replied. “About half of those continuing this year returned home after examinations. You will see most of them arrive in the next half-moon. Those who are here now either could not afford the travel or enrolled in one of the seminars offered by the school during Fallow.”
Was it fortunate for me or not that Dynes hadn’t been teaching one of his seminars this time around? I wasn’t sure if I was ready to see him again after several years of only communicating through mirror messages.
“More schooling?” I asked to distract myself from that thought.
“We require students who remain here during interim sessions to either be enrolled in coursework or have employment in the area,” Solak said. “The Upper School takes the place of formal apprenticeships for most of our students. Seminars allow them to add depth to their specialties or learn skills we have not made part of the curriculum here.”
Because so much of that curriculum focused on teaching battle magic and weapons to wealthy citizens who would never set foot on a battlefield. I somehow managed to keep my eyes from lifting to the sky at that.
“A seminar is why we have invited you here. The seminar on magic manipulation was the first Master Artificer Weaver taught for us. When was that? Two years ago, I believe.”
“Master Artificer?”
“Oh? You hadn’t heard?”
“I’ve been living on the road, Administrator-Minor. Your invitation came to me in Pucheston. The news there tends to focus more on whether the smugglers were raided again than on one inventor’s accomplishments.”
His eyes widened, but he chuckled and sounded like he meant it. I considered Pucheston and the surrounding region of the Dreves an anal sore. Someone like Solak probably saw the place as a certain death. “Indeed, indeed. Yes, Dynes received his guild approval just a few moons ago. From what I understand, he has been involved in establishing his patents since then.”
And of course, the first time he had sent me a message since getting that Master Artificer title, he had told me about a job offer instead of sharing his news. Either he was embarrassed or it hadn’t occurred to him that most people didn’t get master designations at thirty-one years old. The youngest Master Artificer I knew of before Dynes had been in his forties when he’d earned the title.
I didn’t stop the soft smile that stretched my lips. Dynes had finally accomplished all of his goals. “Received the guild’s rather grudging approval, I’ll bet.”
“There was a bit of pressure on the guild by the royals and the military, from what I understand. Everyone knew he has the talent and knowledge to pass the testing. The panel was just being grumpy.”
Grumpy. One way to put it. Dynes didn’t fit our society’s idea of how great artificers were made. They were supposed to start school at a young age, finish those years of school, do their apprentice years under the watch of some master with grand opinions of themselves, then toil for years at minor projects until one day the panel decided they were worthy. Dynes had shown up from the backside of a mountain where we didn’t bother with learning to read or write, rushed through his schoolwork, started his career under the oversight of the military artificers, and fabricated his inventions part-time while working for the Tribunal as an investigator with me. I was so proud of my friend.
“I am so delighted you could take the time to hear our offer,” Solak continued. He did look delighted, with that wide smile and cheerful voice. “We feel you are uniquely suited to instructing this practicum.”
“Why?” came out before I could stop my mouth. Then I kept going. “I have no formal education and I haven’t done any teaching.” My only formal education had been an evaluation by Administrator Pike at Nesdigh when I was seventeen. And even that had happened only because the school had been ordered to evaluate my ability with magic. Solak didn’t need to know about that experience. Telling him about it would only lead to him asking questions I didn’t want to answer.
He smiled. “Your practical experience is precisely why we believe you fit this role. I will admit we considered many other candidates. Magic manipulation is seeing a resurgence and has become the area of study for many scholars in the past few years.”
Since Grek had been named Great-General and had started adding training in the old magic to the regimen for new soldiers. Because of us.
It annoyed me that it had taken Grek’s changes for people to take up the old magic again. It was how we had done magic for generations before spellcasting and enchantments had come into popular use. Places like where I had grown up still relied on the old magic for most of our magic. It didn’t need a new name and to be studied.
“So why not one of them?”
“It is just that for them, an area of study. We wanted to find someone who could teach our students how to truly use magic manipulation.” He clasped his hands behind his back as we walked. “Tell me, for what is Swever Hall known?”
I shrugged. Most of the Kingdom’s schools had reputations for one or two specialties, and I’d met enough former students in my previous life to feel that general knowledge was fairly accurate. “Adept soldier-mages.” Unlike Nesdigh, which turned out superior beings who enjoyed snubbing everyone else because they couldn’t possibly be smarter or more skilled. I’d spent the entire few days of the evaluation annoyed. The faculty who’d been forced to work with us had probably felt the same about us.
He tilted his head and gave me a small, cunning smile. Hm, more to this man than the cheerful, library-bound scholar he looked to be. “Only that?”
“Well, I guess there have been some famous graduates.” If he wanted a history lesson, he was going to be disappointed because I couldn’t actually name any of those people or what they were famous for. Dynes had been interested in schooling, not me.
“‘Mages of note’,” he said. “As our placards around the realm proclaim. Rewen Tillat the Fire-Willed, Sesqia of the Reaches, Brenne the Whisperer. There have been others. Those are perhaps the most well-known. Though we are not the top school for battle mages in the Sky Kingdom, there are other institutions who strive to be even a tenth as accomplished as we are.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Your confidence is striking.”
He laughed. “The school is particularly gifted at taking average students and making them very good through a disciplined and rigorous curriculum so they may return home to be useful for their families.” I detected a bit of sarcasm in those words. Hm, the Administrator-Minor didn’t like that, did he?
We turned a corner along the garden path and a small lawn opened before us. A group of students sat in a circle talking. They glanced over at us, murmuring greetings to Solak, but didn’t interrupt their conversation. Solak continued, “However, it has been several generations since Swever Hall could claim a ‘mage of note.’”
There it was. Always about how the school appeared to the public.
“In order to change that, Administrator Avercraft and I feel we must shift how we train students. A focus on practical skills is a part of that shift. We employ plenty of instructors who are involved in theory and research. From what we have heard, you take that theory and research, and you apply it.”
What was he talking about? “I don’t know any theories or do any research. That’s Dynes’s thing.”
“Oh? And what of the tracking method you developed for the Tribunal investigators? We were told not only of how you pioneered the method, you also taught workshops on your method to several other investigative teams.”
“I—” Didn’t consider that developing a method or teaching workshops. I shrugged. “I just made some changes to the tracking magic we used for hunting.” I swallowed the lump that thinking of Papa made in my throat, even all these years after losing him and Mama.
“Which is the innovation we are looking for in instructors,” Solak said.
“I see.” I didn’t, really—anyone else could have done it if they were used to doing magic the way I was. Which brought up another concern. “I grew up doing magic this way. Everyone around me did. You understand the dangers of introducing these students to the old magic at this stage in their lives?”
His expression turned grim, which looked odd on a man who seemed to cheerful naturally. “I am a scholar. Throughout my career, I have been told the dangers of magic manipulation and reminded why a reliance on spells and potions grew to popularity so quickly when the practice was introduced to our kingdom during the last dynasty. And yet, I feel we should not ignore that our ancestors worked magic this way for centuries. Not to mention all of the places in this world where this is still the primary use of magic.”
What he wasn’t saying was how much people liked to ridicule others who used the old magic. I certainly didn’t go around my day telling people I preferred to use old magic. Many people I’d met in the past assumed my not reading meant that I’d never been able to do any magic because I couldn’t read spells. Which was dumb—people spoke spells all the time and I knew how to listen.
“From what Master Artificer Weaver told us in his recommendation, you seem to have a natural gift for pushing others to explore their magics.”
I’d helped Dynes “learn” tracking magic by abandoning him in a ravine when we were ten. He had eventually made it back to the village we’d grown up in—by using skills that had nothing to do with tracking magic and everything to do with the fact that Dynes didn’t see things the way the rest of us did.
That example wasn’t a positive reflection on my teaching skills. The village adults certainly hadn’t thought it funny.
I was having a hard time accepting that a school like this wanted me for me. People tended to automatically assume that because of my background, I was an idiot. Their assumptions were useful to me, but they still sliced at the part of me that had once been a young woman overwhelmed with grief and trying to learn how to live in a place drastically different from where she’d grown up.
“There is another element to your appeal to us. Your background and your references speak to a certain—flexibility of the mind.”
My brow furrowed. What did that mean?
He smiled gently at my obvious confusion. “Something others may consider a liability, but we see as a valuable asset. You became an investigator with a rare skillset for the foremost law enforcement agency in our realm, despite your lack of education and training in investigative techniques. You mentioned a few moments ago that you have emerged, seemingly unscathed, from one of the most lawless—” Here he grimaced. “—areas of the realm.”
I grinned a little at that.
“It is obvious you are an adaptable person. If you can pass your problem-solving skills to the students as well, this experiment of ours will be a quite the success.”
I doubted I would be allowed to teach these students the way I had learned. Life-or-death situations worked as motivation, but the parents would probably be unhappy to have their children come home traumatized.
He took a deep breath. “Before we move on, I do need to warn you of difficulties you may face in this role. There are many people who feel strongly that a class on magic manipulation is a waste of school resources at best. There will likely be some pushback from your fellow faculty as well as others involved in the school.”
I held in my scoff. He apparently didn’t realize that I had been dealing with that pushback for years. Ever since I’d left home, really. “I understand.”
He examined my face for a long moment before he apparently decided I did indeed understand. “Now, to the specifics. The pay is decent and includes room and board for both yourself and your horse. As a temporary instructor, you will report directly to myself. Should you remain here as a full-time member of our faculty after this first year, you will receive a budget for supplies and continuing education, in addition to an increase in salary. All of that will be detailed in your contract. This school year is a trial period. Upon the end of the year, we will meet to renegotiate the terms of your contract if we wish to continue your employment. Should this role not move forward, we may offer you another position. Do you accept our offer?”
Do practically nothing at a posh boarding school? Or go back to Vawna and her crew's hopes?
“Yes,” I said. “When do I start?”
“Excellent, excellent! You can move in as soon as your contract is signed. Secretary Vargaren will have that available. We will take this time before the start of classes to introduce you to the school and your duties.”
“Sounds good.”
He clasped his hands together and bowed toward me with his head and shoulders. “Welcome to Swever Hall. I believe this school year will be a success for all of us, especially our students. Now, I have an appointment with a student. Let me return you to Secretary Vargaren so you can discuss your contract.”
“Is it all right if I check on my horse first? I would like to see her settled.” More like I needed to make sure she hadn’t done permanent damage to the stable hand, but Solak didn’t need to know that.
“Of course, of course.” He gave me directions to find the stable from the garden before we parted ways.