He was determined to find out. In the midst of discussion, he turned to her suddenly, pretending to remember something. “Ellsbeth, you emailed me a question this weekend, remind me—what was it?”
He intended to tease her, hoping to catch her flat-footed and make her stumble on her words, as he had repeatedly done throughout the class. But she didn’t even hesitate, inventing an answer on the spot. “Oh, I was asking if you knew of any alternative layouts for longevity divination rituals. The ones in the textbook seem needlessly complex.” Only her expression gave anything away, and it was the look of a worthy competitor, challenging him back, as she added, “But you never sent me a reply.”
“I must’ve been distracted,” he said. “But you have my full attention now.” Then he turned back to the board, drawing a diagram to answer her question.
When he dismissed the class, Ellsbeth put her notebook into her bag and started heading for the door, which he knew would doom him to another two days of frustration, wondering when they’d speak again. “Ellsbeth, do you have a minute?” he said before he could stop himself.
While the other students filed out, she came down the steps to the lectern, hiking her bag up onto her shoulder and giving him an expectant look, requiring him to break the silence.
Once the room was cleared, he realized he lacked any plan for what he was going to say to her. “Hi.” The single syllable was forced to bear the weight of all that went unspoken between them.
She raised her eyebrows—That’s it?She was going to make him work for this. “I’m sorry about how I had to leave the other night,” Rawlins said. “It was a difficult personal matter.”
She nodded, apparently accepting his apology, and looked sincerely empathetic. “I hope everything’s okay.”
Again, Rawlins wanted to tell her the truth, but he could foresee only more damage from talking about Max, so he said simply, “I’m all right, thanks. And believe me, leaving like that was the last thing in the world I wanted to do. So…I hope you’ll email me again sometime.”
She smirked. “Well, don’t worry, you’ll have another email soon. About myresearch.”
“Fantastic,” he said. “That’s exactly what I meant. We need to figure out the next ritual for you to untangle.”
“I’ve already started working on one,” she said. “A more advanced binding.”
“And you didn’t think you should get my approval first?” he replied with mock-indignation. “I thought you might want my input.”
“I know what I want to study,” she said. “And I’m pretty sure you’ll approve when you see it.”
A genuine smile spread across his face. “Glad to see you’re finding your confidence.”
Ellsbeth shrugged. “Maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”
“All right, then. I look forward to discussing the next stage of your work.” He was enjoying their flirtation, their banter, but then looking at her, he was abruptly overcome with a sense of warmth and could not help himself. He blinked, and the words came out: “You have a remarkable mind, Ellsbeth. And you’re going to do great things.”
“Thank you, Professor,” she said.
Their conversation seemed to have reached a logical end point, but Ellsbeth didn’t budge. She seemed to be weighing something now, and he delighted in watching the wheels turn as she figured out how to broach whatever it was shereallywanted to talk about. Rawlins’s chest clenched with desire—a visceral impulse that roared inside him, so he had to stop himself from crossing the charged distance between them and kissing her. He kept himself in check and asked, “Was there something else?”
“There was, actually,” Ellsbeth said, her voice light. “I’ve encountered something during my research. Not a topic I’d pursue as part of my thesis, but…something I’m curious to investigate further, and I’m hoping you could help.”
Rawlins leaned in. “Well, as your intellectual shepherd, I’ll certainly do what I can. What is it you want to learn about?”
She looked him in the eyes and answered: “Obscuration.”
Instinctively, Rawlins’s entire body tightened, and he glanced toward the door as though afraid her uttering that single word might be enough to get them both arrested.
Obscuration was the Holy Grail of writ magic practice, targeting not only the physical body but also themind,and theoretically capable of doing so in such a way that the target would never even be aware. Undetected mental manipulation was both a coveted power and a complete taboo.
But like the Holy Grail, it had always remained a mythical notion. It occupied the same category as theChrono Vicissimritual for turning back time, or theFortunatis Favoriritual for increasing one’s luck. Such practices were documented in the literature of antiquity, but most modern academics viewed their possibility with intense skepticism.
Historical references to obscuration abounded, with pre-modern scholars citing various applications—princes compelled to fall in love, kings compelled to abdicate their thrones. But it was impossible toprovethat any of those effects had been the result of an obscuration ritual. The very nature of obscuration meant that it would never be verifiable, since successfully carrying it out would leave the subject feeling they had never been influenced at all. Most in the field now regarded obscuration as a piece of medieval folklore, a relic of the days before arcane practice had become standardized and properly studied.
Rawlins tried to keep his voice level and his face impassive. “And what’s your interest in the topic? Given that it’s most likely apocryphal.”
“Just curiosity,” she said. “About history, certainly. It’s an interesting frontier. There are a handful of respected scholars who have regarded it as worthy of study. I forget who, but one of the old dinosaurs of the field said that obscuration was worth investigating because it would represent ‘a categorical advance in the scope of what the arcane mechanicals can achieve.’ ” She smiled slyly.
Rawlins couldn’t help it; he grinned back like a teenager.“I wrote that back when I was a graduate student. And the essay that contained that sentence is undisciplined, to say the least. Practicallyunhinged.”
“Not your most sophisticated work,” she said. “But I enjoyed it. I like seeing where your mind goes when you let it run wild.”
