“All this material will be on the examination next week!”

  As the other students groaned, Dwayne gathered up his books and left the classroom, intending to return to Sanford. Of all his classes, History of Souran Magic was the easiest, partially because Dwayne had already thoroughly scoured the historical record for evidence to support Resonance Theory and partially because the instructor Professor Wislocka didn’t know his name and so had to grade him fairly. Still, it had been hard to sit through one of her lectures while fuming over how little progress he’d made in figuring out to how free Akunna. All that had resulted from his intrusion into the Royal Secretary’s Office was a new policy proposal for the registration of novel weapons. All he had left to help Akunna was his position as Head Clerk, which he could leverage to change things by fractional, frustrating degrees.

  There had to be another way. He had to find it.

  Dwayne changed course, making his way to Lees College. Once upon a time, this had been a frontier manor, its steepled, dark red bulk a bulwark against the encroaching wilderness. Only Magdala knew when it had ceased to be that and instead became the Magisterium’s Archives. Dwayne chuckled to himself. Her look of surprise when she’d seen that he’d set the dummy on fire had been well worth both the near drowning and the ensuing headache. If he was keeping being her dueling partner, at least he’d had the chance to see that. She’d fit those breeches so-

  Dwayne winced as he stepped onto Lees’ threshold. Friends didn’t think like that, and he had other, more pressing matters to attend to. He pushed open the door then froze.

  Inside bookshelves groaned with centuries of knowledge, and carved wooden tables spanned the length of the room as ancient stairs spiraled up to the upper floors. Moreover, every chair, every table, even the floor was packed with students trying to cram in one last bit of studying before their exams. In contrast to the libraries Dwayne had been to before - noble’s nooks, Walcrest’s hidden cave, the sad mess in the Tower - this library lived and breathed and for one awesome moment, he could dream of joining such a display of scholastic fervor.

  It couldn’t last.

  “Young Kalan,” Dwayne’s honorific was said as begrudgingly as possible without being outright rude, “what business brings you here this day?”

  Dwayne turned to the reason why he rarely came to the Archives, the thin, elderly woman in the booth by the front door, Tarpan’s once-dinner guest, Dean Amanda Quill.

  She wouldn’t understand why he was here. “Preparations for the Qe Master’s Examination, Dean,” he lied.

  Quill raised an eyebrow. “I’ll thank you to keep your humor to yourself.”

  Dwayne pasted on a strained smile. “Oh, it’s not a joke.” As much as he wished it was. “I’m here to access the relevant materials.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “That requires permission from a faculty member.”

  Doubtful. “You’re faculty, Dean.” He might as well take the chance. “You could give me permission.”

  She harrumphed. “Like I said, I’ll thank you to keep your humor to yourself.”

  “I’ll do it.” Dean Bruce approached with an auburn-haired nQe senior in tow. “After all, Miss Werner and I must thank him for this out-of-season opportunity to take the Qe Master’s Examination.”

  Dean Quill’s face twisted. “Pure nonsense. What is Her Majesty’s Council is playing at? It’s well-known that no amount of studying can make up for certain,” her eyes flicked to Dwayne, “deficiencies.”

  “Well-known, yes, but not well-tested.” Dean Bruce placed a hand on Quill’s shoulder. “As paragons of rationality, we Souran mages must allow this and let the results speak for themselves.”

  Dean Quill brushed Bruce’s arm off, “what on Markosia are you up to, Roberta?”

  Bruce smiled. “Only burning out the rot of ignorance to make way for a glorious future.”

  Dwayne’s jaw set. Just like when Bruce had said much the same thing after the Harvest Ball, that sounded like a threat. For her part, Dean Quill tried wordlessly to pull some answer out of her former apprentice.

  Then she sighed. “Very well. Proceed.”

  “Thank you.” Dean Bruce turned to Werner. “Return to the College. I’ll meet you there.”

  “Yes, Dean.”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Come along, young Kalan.” Dean Bruce swept towards the nearest stairs, saying, as Dwayne caught up to her, “I imagine you have a great deal of studying to do. Werner, my candidate, has managed to get through two-thirds of the Canon and yet she has a long way to go.”

  “Two-thirds?” Dwayne stopped cold. “Of the entire Qe canon?”

  “Yes. One has to be prepared for the Oral section.” Dean Bruce hadn’t stopped walking. “We’re aiming for eighty percent. That’ll be enough. Barely.”

  If that was true, Dwayne had a long way to go. The most well-known parts of the Canon, the part he already knew, only comprised about forty percent of the total canon as the remaining sixty percent was made of spells that only specialists used. Needless to say, the spells he’d used this morning during his duel with Magdala were not included.

  “Are you coming?” Dean Bruce was waiting at the top of the stairs.

  “Yes.” Dwayne caught up, taking the steps three at time. “Sorry.”

  “Oh, it’s not a problem. Besides,” the dean turned left down the corridor, “I think a talk between you and I is long overdue.”

  Dwayne’s jaw set. The last time he and Bruce had “talked,” the dean had argued to the Queen that only she could restore Soura to its former glory. After that, she’d kicked Magdala out of her college, marking her clearly as not Dwayne’s ally.

  Still, proprieties had to be observed. “What would you like to talk about, Dean?”

  “First, I must congratulate you on cutting away that leech.”

  Dwayne blinked. “‘Leech?’ You mean Thadden?”

  “I’ve never been able to grasp what Her Highness sees in him.” Dean Bruce opened a door leading to another set of stairs. “If she hadn’t taken the violet, I’d have assumed it was love.”

  “‘Taken the violet?’”

  “Ask Miss Lucchesi.” Dean Bruce started to climb. “That moron and his pack of weasels are not like you and me, people with vision.”

  “I don’t think our visions are… compatible,” said Dwayne. “Is Baron Thadden is what you wanted to talk about?”

  “No, although I have enjoyed watching you crush his pathetic and hoary dreams.” Dean Bruce kept climbing. “What I wanted to talk about is tytumber.”

  It took a moment for Dwayne to recall what that was. “The material Magdala made by accident? When she was working on the Qe core project.”

  “We’re still attempting to reconstruct her process, but the experiments we’ve run on what she left us have already raised a number of compelling questions. Chief among them,” Dean Bruce paused at the door to the next floor and looked down on Dwayne, “what does it do?”

  Dwayne frowned. “Why ask me? I didn’t make it.”

  “Don’t you wonder why Vanuria will haul it off for free, claiming that they’re doing us a service? Why the Empire has never called them out this blatant manipulation, despite having their own sources of azade?”

  “No, but…”

  If tytumber really was worthless, then Vanuria wouldn’t bother taking it away, which implied that, like sewage, tytumber must have a hidden use.

  But it wouldn’t do to share that insight. “Unfortunately, I have no idea.”

  “Pity. Well, it just happens that I have a piece here with me.” Dean Bruce pulled a small bead the color of a smoked sunset out of her pocket and held it up for his scrutiny. “Have you seen tytumber before?”

  Dwayne’s response was automatic. “No.”

  But he had, had seen air ripple like that, had felt it grow stale, had felt this weight on his mind.

  The dean’s next words came from far away. “Why would Vanuria hoard this?”

  “They must use it,” answered Dwayne.

  “What for?”

  “Decoration?” He could see a pattern in the ripples. He’d seen before and recently. Where?

  “If so, only their counts use it. Maybe they build manors out of it.”

  “No, they don’t. They use wood and stone.” The sunset color was particularly familiar. Where had he seen it? When? And why did he expect silver?

  Because the last time he’d seen something like this, it was set into a silver collar, one Granda had clamped around his neck.

  “Do you hear something, young Kalan?”

  “No.”

  That collar had suppressed Dwayne’s magic somehow.

  “Do you see something?”

  “I see…”

  Almost too late the implication of an affirmative answer became clear. While Qe mages heard something they called the Voice, Dwayne didn’t. Instead, at his Rite of Attestation, he’d seen lights beyond his blindfold, and a powerful glowing had let him select the correct the leather strips so fast that the Earth Sage, the Royal Consort, and his new master Lady, all mages of rank and prestige, had been stunned.

  “I see nothing.” Dwayne pulled back from the bead and felt his magic return. “Why? Do you?”

  “You reply with a question.” Dean Bruce’s smile was foreboding. “No matter.” She returned the bead to her pocket. “Let’s get you to that reading room.”

  She opened the door and led a disquieted Dwayne down the corridor. Whatever tytumber was, it was not good that Magdala left some with Dean Bruce.

  When they reached the Vilma Eierkuchen Reading Room, Dean Bruce threw the door open. “Here we are. You- Watch where you’re going!”

  The person who’d just run into Bruce, Monika Horn, muttered an apology and fled.

  Dean Bruce scowled. “That’s the leech’s candidate.”

  “What?” asked Dwayne. “Her?”

  “My thoughts exactly.” Dean Bruce brushed herself off. “May the Examination reveal your true talent, young Kalan. Good day.” She swept away.

  Frustration pinned Dwayne in place. He’d come here to find a way to help Akunna, not to study for the Qe Master’s Examination, but failing the examination would strip away what little power he had, power he needed to help her. And barely passing wasn’t enough. He had to do so definitively.

  That wasn’t going to be easy. Both Horn and Werner were older, born Qe mages and backed by established mages, all significant advantages over Dwayne and his grasp of Resonance Theory. It was another mountain to climb in the hike that had become his life since coming to Bradford. All he wanted to do was study magic in peace, but it looked like Souran society wasn’t going to let him do that.

  For now, Akunna would have to wait. Once he’d aced the Qe Master’s Examination, he’d get her out.