They’re fine.
It’s just difficult to deny the urge to see it with his own eyes.
The door is flung wide suddenly, and the Magister of Novarum is smiling in welcome, his wiry gray hair smoking slightly, and he has a smudge of black on the side of his nose. He is not, as the kids say, smokin’ hot—so much as he is just plain smoking.
He’s short, rotund, and perhaps in his late sixties, with bright, sparkling blue eyes and a welcoming smile. His glasses are askew, and his three-piece suit looks like it was designed in the 1940s.
“Come in, come in. Welcome. My, my,” he mutters to himself under his breath as he adjusts his glasses to peer up into Grayson’s face. It’s not the same look Finn and his mates get when people stare too long at Grayson’s beauty—it’s more quizzical, assessing even.
“Ignatius, this is Grayson Pearce and his mates, Dr. Finn Merritt and Leo Costas. Gentlemen, this is the Magister Novarum, Ignatius Parvolio.”
The Magister offers his hand, and when Finn clasps it, it’s hot and dry.
“Come, sit. Please, don’t mind the mess—my third-year Fire Affinities were full of spark and flame today.”
He ushers them into a bright, light-filled space and toward a long couch. They wait for Ignatius and Nimue to settle into two wing-back armchairs across from them before taking their own seats.
“Thank you for seeing us today, Magister,” Grayson says.
“Of course. Nimue speaks highly of you and your pack. I must say, I am quite excited to see some of what you can do today. She spoke of your description of The Plain—phenomenal.”
Leo stiffens beside him at the idea that Grayson will be demonstrating his access to The Plain when they are actively avoiding it because of Withers—and the uncontrolled risk to Nix.
“Ignatius, you recall that I told you Aleksander Withers was seen on Grayson’s last journey? They are understandably concerned, as Grayson is more vulnerable when he draws on the magic.”
The older man scowls, and there’s a rumble of thunder from above. When Finn looks up, his mouth drops open just a little in shock. Hovering in the highest eaves of the room are storm clouds, billowing and gray, with sparks of lightning.
“Yes, yes. We’ll keep it under the radar, so to speak. Withers was such a talented boy, but more dark than light. Elysia never liked him, and she would know.”
“Ms. Noctis, from reception?” Finn asks.
“Elysia is my dear, long-suffering partner in life. She can see the balance of light and dark in a person, spiritually speaking,” he boasts, with no small amount of pride.
It explains the white and black eyes. Fascinating. How has Finn gone so long without seeing more magic in his life? He’d always known about it, certainly—how could he not, with his Oath at the forefront of his daily practice? And to be fair, the Were Community is very sheltered. As far as Finn is aware, the magic community in Tennessee is much smaller than elsewhere,but even so, he imagines this is only a fraction of what Nix must have felt when they told him he was Were.
“She was unsurprised that he was stripped of his license last fall. Still, so sad to lose someone in our minuscule community. I understand you saw him on your Travels?”
“I did, sir. It was unpleasant. He looks…corrupted.”
“Ah. Nimue also mentioned that he might be working with a known criminal. Perhaps it is dark soul magic—it corrupts absolutely, especially if one is already inclined toward the dark arts. Such a shame.
“I’ve put forth a motion to have our Wardens search for Aleksander so we can get to the bottom of this serious breach of magic use. We have also begun a covert search for the mole in our offices. I must say, I am quite concerned for you and your fellow novices.”
Ignatius mumbles to himself for a moment, deep in thought, until he claps his hands together abruptly. The sharp sound startles Grayson enough that he gives a low growl—quickly followed by the pinking of his cheeks.
“Excuse me, sir. That was…”Rude.
But the Magister doesn’t seem to know that Were adults don’t often go around growling at their seniors—let alone their teachers.
“Completely understandable, Grayson. I forget that you are Were and new to The Plain. Surely you feel a great abundance of it flowing through our corridors. I must say, you have impeccable control.”
“Luminary Nimue is an excellent teacher, and I still have so much more to learn,” Grayson replies modestly.
“You have been a quick learner, Grayson,” Nimue says with a smile.
“We’ve asked you and your guardians here today for two reasons. The first was to find out more about AleksanderWithers, but the second was to conduct a few novice-level tests to determine your Affinity—and whether you will be able to develop a Talent or two. It will help us find the best teachers for you and contacts in the Guild of Tennessee as well. If you are willing?”
“I’ll be accessing The Plain?” Grayson asks, and his basil-vanilla scent sours.
