CHAPTER 22

WHAT’S IN A NAME

Rehn watched as Professor Arcadius broke the wax seal on the dispatch and, pushing his glasses high up the bridge of his nose, began to read. The old man appeared visibly upset. Arcadius could never be described as neat and tidy, but the professor of lore had appeared more frazzled than ever before. His hair a wild storm of white, his robes even more wrinkled than normal-Rehn was certain that was the same jelly stain that had been on his chest before he left. As he watched, the professor’s shoulders drooped, the muscles in his neck relaxed, and his breathing went from short gasps to longer, deeper draws.

Not knowing how long the document was, Rehn looked for a place to sit. As always, the lore master’s office was a disaster, and Rehn found a seat wedged in tight between a caged pigeon and a barrel of vinegar. He shivered. He’d paused the moment he’d entered the school to shake off most of the snow, but enough had melted to leave his clothes damp. He rubbed his arms for warmth, tapped his feet together to knock off the remaining flakes, and listened to the chatter of the caged animals.

“Good news?” he asked, growing impatient. He had at least a little stake in this too.

The professor only held up a finger, his eyes never leaving the page.

Rehn slumped a bit and looked over at the pigeon. All white, with black eyes, maybe it wasn’t a pigeon after all. Might be a dove or some more exotic bird the professor had obtained from parts unknown.

Where did all of this stuff come from?

Rehn looked out the window at the still-falling snow that gathered on the sill and muntins-the first real snow of the year. It had been a long time since he’d seen snow.

“They’re safe,” Arcadius said at last. Lowering the dispatch and pulling off his glasses, he leaned back with a great sigh. “At least there has been no report of them being killed or captured, so I have to assume they made it out alive.”

“Where are they?”

“The city of Medford in Melengar, but as far as the church is concerned, they’ve disappeared. The search for the thieves of the Crown Tower has been called off. Officially they are saying the burglary never happened. Internally, Ervanon authorities are baffled. They have half a dozen dead tower guards, but also the returned book. They can’t figure out what happened or why.” The old professor displayed a self-satisfied grin. “The only clue they have is the testimony of a tavern keeper in Iberton saying Royce and Hadrian had been there and were badly wounded.”

Rehn leaned forward, nearly knocking the pigeon cage over. “How badly?”

“Hard to say. The tavern keeper mentioned that Royce was barely conscious and that Hadrian stitched him up on one of the tables.”

Rehn didn’t care about Royce. “What about Hadrian?”

“He was wounded, too, but Royce was worse. It couldn’t have been too serious, as it wasn’t worth noting. One odd thing is that a patrol under the command of Sir Holvin-a Seret Knight-disappeared in the same area.”

“Disappeared?”

Arcadius shrugged.

“How many in the patrol?”

“Ten, including Sir Holvin.”

“Ten?” Rehn said, surprised. “You don’t think…”

The professor smiled and nodded. “I suspect the metal has been tempered at last.”

“But ten? And Hadrian and Royce were wounded.”

The professor got up and, using a soup bowl, he scooped birdseed from a bin behind his desk and went to the cages, sifting the seeds through the cage bars. “We won’t know what happened for certain until they return.”

“Are you sure they will? It’s been a long time.”

“Royce knows better than to come back here right away. He’ll play it safe. Wait a year, maybe two.”

“But hang on,” Rehn said over the flutters and squawking. “If the church lost track of them in Iberton, how do you know they reached Medford?”

Grinning, Arcadius looked over his glasses and winked. “Magic.”

“Seriously?” he replied with a smirk.

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Okay, don’t tell me.” Rehn sighed. It was just like the old man. Working with him was like teaming with a stone.-Arcadius refused to give anything away, but Rehn guessed he had his reasons. They all did. “So then I can-”

“No.” The professor shook his wild head of hair. “We can’t take the chance of them coming back unexpectedly and finding you here. You’re dead, remember?”

Rehn frowned. “Please don’t tell me I have to go back to Vernes.” He slipped into the voice. “I am not so much the believing this is a good idea, yes?”

“No, not Vernes.”

“Why did you send both me and Royce there anyway?”

“Because when I send Royce to fetch someone, I never know if that someone will arrive on their feet or in a box, and I can’t trust his account. You were my eyes and ears.”

“So if not Vernes, then where?”

Arcadius set the bowl of seed down on the tall pointy hat that Rehn had never seen the professor wear. “Nowhere.”

“You’re cutting me loose?”

“For now.”

Not like he didn’t expect it, but still Rehn couldn’t help feeling disappointed. The sudden depression surprised him. He’d never been all that interested in anything beyond his own survival before.

“That’s the nature of this work. You know that. That’s the way it has always been.”

Rehn continued to frown, looking at the dirty puddle at his feet.

“You did a good job,” the professor offered in a sympathetic tone.

“Ha!” Rehn mocked. “I couldn’t even get on the stupid barge. Blasted disguise was a little too good. And then I let Hadrian catch me reading in the dormitories. I thought I’d ruined everything.”

“And then there was the pie.”

Rehn frowned. “You said you wanted me to get on his good side. I thought defending Hadrian was a good way to do that. That and Angdon is a royal ass. I’m surprised you didn’t reprimand me earlier.”

“I thought the beating was punishment enough, and it worked. One can’t argue with results. You secured his trust, his sympathy. If it wasn’t for Pickles, Hadrian never would have gone.”

“Then why did you tell him Pickles was dead?”

Arcadius let go of the parchment and took off his glasses to begin cleaning them. “I couldn’t risk Hadrian having divided loyalties. You were quickly becoming his adopted family.”

Rehn smiled. “I like Hadrian.”

“He liked Pickles too. I could see it in his eyes-that’s why the little urchin had to die. Hadrian needed to be just as alone, just as isolated as Royce for this to work.”

“Was a risky gamble.”

Arcadius rolled his eyes and took a moment to stroke his beard. “If this could get any whiter, it would have.”

“Why’d I have to be executed? Why not an accident?”

“Royce wouldn’t have bought it. He’d be suspicious. In his world real accidents don’t happen. On the other hand, vicious, irrational deaths are expected. It also increased the heat, got Hadrian on edge. It takes a lot to get under his skin.”

Neither one said anything for a time. Rehn glanced out the window. “I should be going, then, before the snow gets too deep.” He stood up and faced the professor with an honest face. Perhaps the most honesty he’d shown anyone in years. “By the way, did you get what you needed from the book Royce stole? What was so important about it?”

The professor smiled again. “Absolutely nothing at all.”

“Huh? Then why?”

Arcadius bobbed his head in a whimsical manner, that childish twinkle in his eyes. “Just an impossible goal-the furnace to forge a bond.”

Rehn nodded. “Say, I want you to know how grateful I am to you. I don’t know what I would have done.”

Arcadius put his glasses back on. Perhaps it was Rehn’s imagination, but the old man looked moved, saddened. “Where will you go?”

“I don’t know. Back home maybe.”

“I hear Ratibor is lovely this time of year.”

Rehn smirked. “Ratibor is never lovely. I’ll let you know where I am when I find where I’m going. You’ll contact me if needed, right?”

“Of course.”

Rehn knew he wouldn’t-too risky. His contribution to the cause was over. Rehn made his way across the room but hesitated at the door. He looked back at the professor. “There’s a war coming, isn’t there?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“We still have a chance, right?”

“There’s always hope,” Arcadius said, but his tone lacked confidence. The old professor looked out the window as if he could see Royce and Hadrian out there hiding somewhere, buried beneath the snow, and added, “We’ve planted the seeds. All we can do now is wait and see what grows.”


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