Dwayne knocked.
Nothing.
He knocked again.
Still, nothing.
Where was she?
Sighing, Dwayne sat down next to the door and waited for Akunna to come back home. Without the haze of thaumaturgical deprivation, the peeling plaster, the rain worn wooden struts, and the straw slowly replacing the roof shingles, the neglect of Akunna’s landlord was impossible to miss even if the rooms were quite spacious compared to what the Vanurians lived in. During his research, Dwayne had come across an old Souran law that confined all Vanurians to the same area of space that five Sanfords took up. Wesens, on the other hand, lived in tenements owned by Souran nobles who cared little about comfort. Neither situation, living in “spacious” neglect or cramped “luxury” were good. While Magdala had been right that he couldn’t bet on securing his position as Head Clerk, that was exactly the kind of power that he’d need to help.
Unfortunately, he had other concerns: Mei had missed breakfast. Dwayne wasn’t that concerned though. After all, breaking into the College of Martial Magic had to be easier than fighting Revenants in the jungle, and Huan had always bragged that Mei could live off the land for weeks, and Mei knew Bradford and its environs like the back of her hand. If she’d missed breakfast, then perhaps she was playing it safe, lying low, gone to ground. In the meantime, they’d just have to prepare a feast for her and she’d show up and Dwayne could stop worrying.
That settled, Dwayne pulled out his notes from last night’s study session with Magdala, who’d shared some insights into how Water Qe mages thought about ebb and flow, which wanted to set in his mind. He smiled. Despite the awkward start, it had been fun to study with Magdala again, even if it could be tiring to answer all those-
Someone groaned. Dwayne looked up. Akunna, dressed in a dusty, tattered tunic and trousers, was hauling herself up the stairs, each step painting pain on her face.
Dwayne rushed to take her arm. She smelled of sweat and wood shavings. “What happened?”
Akunna frowned at his helping hand then peered at his face. “Dwayne? Cussed lightning, what’re you doing here?”
“I was waiting for you.”
“Why?” Akunna stumbled on the final stair.
Dwayne hauled her onto the landing. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Her tired laugh made him wince. “Staggering is my new hello.” She pulled out a key and fumbled it, trying to unlock her door. “You’ve an exam. Why ain’t you studying?”
Dwayne took the key and unlocked the door. “Thadden told you?”
“Made my day.” Akunna chuckled as she pushed open her door. “Seeing him like that.” She pushed away from Dwayne and collapsed into bed. “You here to gloat? That would be new. You wear modest like a noble wears arrogant.”
“I’m not here to gloat.” Dwayne closed Akunna’s door then sat in her only chair. Her dark skin did its best to hide them, but Dwayne could see the bruises and cuts on her arms and legs as clear as day. He’d been a slave after all. “I came to get you out.”
Akunna blinked. “Out?”
“I can’t let Thadden punish you for helping me. Mag- Young Gallus and I talked it over, and I believe we can smuggle-”
Akunna shook her head. “No.”
Dwayne’s head jerked back. “No?”
Akunna shook her head again, painfully, slowly. “No.”
“Why not?”
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She eyed him for a long moment then said, “Because I don’t want to.”
Dwayne opened his mouth, his tongue ready with arguments and reasonings, but any argument he could make amounted to denying her choice and any reasoning he could form led to him making the choices her kidnappers had made. And so, he said “Okay.”
Akunna groaned. “Curling fires, you make it hard to hate you.”
Dwayne blinked. “Hate me? Why?”
“I want to hate you because you’ve got the luck and the magic and the freedom and I don’t. But I can’t because you understand.” Akunna curled up. “Every so often, a free Wesen hears my poems and declares they’ll ‘take me away from all this.’ They’ll say its because of love or my words, but it’s always really because of guilty, so when I say no, they… don’t take it well. You looked into buying my ‘tract, didn’t you?”
“I did, but even if Thadden would sell it to me, I couldn’t afford it.”
Akunna chuckled weakly. “Yeah, his pride would kill him if he sold my ‘tract to you, a Wesen brat he dearly wants to drown in the Brad. Besides,” she gestured at the pristine maid uniform hanging next to the door, “who would serve him and his friends afternoon tea?”
Dwayne went still. “Even now, he makes do that?”
“Yep, right before I go to work on the Project.” Akunna curled tighter. “That’s why I need to sleep now.”
“Okay.” Dwayne stood up. “I’ll-”
“Wait.” Akunna sat up, winced. “You should know why I said no. I’ve my own plan. I’m going to break them out.”
“Who out?”
Akunna grinned. “Everyone.”
Dwayne sat back down. “How?”
“When our dear friend Mister Baron Otto Thadden sent me to the Project, he made a mistake. A maid doesn’t have time to talk to people like herself but a laborer has all the time in the world.”
Dwayne grinned too. “So you have a plan. Where will you all go?”
“Some will try to go home, some will hide, and some,” her eyes glittered, “are going to fight.”
It was madness. It was foolish. It was perfect. “How can I…” Right, he shouldn’t presume. “I’d like to help.”
“Make us a chance, something big to distract the guards. Then we’ll make our move.”
“Okay.”
She blinked. “That’s it? You don’t want to know the rest?”
“Is it something I can help with?”
“No.”
“Then,” Dwayne sat back, “I don’t need to know.”
“Cussed lightning, lordling,” Akunna shook her head, “you make it hard to hate you.”
There was a knock at the door.
“I’ll get it.” Dwayne went to the door and opened it to find Magdala standing there.
She shoved a letter into his hands. “Read this.”
Dwayne frowned at it. “What is it?” He saw the handwriting. “This is from Lord Kalan.”
“Hey, trying to sleep!” called out Akunna.
“Sorry.” Dwayne stepped outside, closing the door behind him. “Where did you get this?”
“Mei found it,” said Magdala. “Dean Bruce had it.”
“Mei’s okay!” Dwayne searched Magdala’s face. She looked worn. “Are you okay?”
“I will be.” Magdala sniffed. “You should read the letter.”
Dwayne put his hand on her arm. “Are you really okay?”
“Yes,” Magdala pulled away, “just read.”
“Okay.”
Dwayne opened the letter, which was dated one and a half weeks after the Harvest Ball.
Dear Dwayne,
Having just received your last correspondence via caravan, I find I must apologize for the manner in which you learned that I’d abdicated my position as Royal Sorcerer. Still, I’m grateful that you and Luisa were able to connect. I know she will perform her duties as your teacher with the care and attention you deserve; she basically demanded your apprenticeship after all.
The apology was nice.
However, I must admit to some jealousy; you’ve found a solution to Resonance Scattering and created a external Qe resonator! Your ability to find the answers to questions that have bedeviled me for years is a source of jealousy but also a source of pride as I must applaud your achievements. Just remember not to let your other special qualities cause you to stand out too much. By now, you’ve those who would take you away and remand you into the custody of those who refuse to share their knowledge. Just be sure to keep all you have close and you’ll be fine.
The hints at Na’cch and Dwayne’s Ri magic were a bit much.
I have one more confession to make. By the time you receive this letter, I will be in Vanuria. In response to your inevitable question, it’s because I believe that external resonators like that glorious Qe core you’ve made are not the only way to enable a mage to cast every spell humanity has at its disposal. I speak not of the Well, I have no leads on where that is, but of a method of implanting, or even growing, an internal resonator in a person. Think of it! Such a resonator should have at least one distinct advantage over your new cores: creating a mage from a lay base. So I’ve gone to visit a researcher in Vanuria I’ve been in contact with to explore this possibility. Imagine it, a Qe-Fo cross-disciplinary project! How could I pass that up?
“He cannot be serious.”
Unfortunately, Vanuria means I couldn’t take you with me. As you very well know, the southern lands are too dangerous for a free Wesen, and I refuse to subject you to any more horrible things. So stay in Bradford, learn from Luisa, impress my lady sister, create unimaginable magic and stay safe.
“Was this why you abandoned me?”
Ever Grateful to Have Met You,
Bartholomew Kalan
P.S. Next time we meet, I will expect a full report from both you and my niece on your accomplishments.
“I’ll shove it down his throat!”
“You do know you’re shouting, right?” asked Magdala.
Dwayne looked up. Magdala had guided him away from Akunna’s door and onto the street, where more than a couple of people were throwing alarmed looks his way.
He grimaced. “I’m sorry. It’s just… How stupid is he? He abandoned me then put even more on my plate.”
“He is an expert at creating problems for other people.”
“He’ll regret it when I rescue him.”
Magdala’s expression was grim. “When we rescue him.”