“How did they know which way we went?”
The professor shrugged. “I think he sent a party in both directions.”
“So those were the knights who came to the tavern in Iberton?” Hadrian asked.
“Yes, and they will likely be back soon.”
“And if they see us here-” Royce said.
“Exactly. So I think it’d be best if you were gone before first light. You also might want to delay returning, as I suspect this will take some time to work out.”
“How long?”
“Until Angdon is no longer present to identify you. Perhaps a year.”
“I don’t see a reason to return at all,” Royce said. “He puts this book back, and we’re done, right? My debt to you is cleared?”
“Yes.”
“Then there’s no reason for me to ever return, correct?”
Arcadius nodded. “True, but you might still wish to. How many places in the world can you go right now where you will be welcome? It might be nice just to visit on occasion. And I would appreciate eventually learning how the two of you fared on this adventure. Perhaps you will shock me by returning together. As I said before, I think you would make a fine team.”
“He and I, a team?” Royce smirked.
“Yes, a team, partners, as in two people working together, pooling their talents for a common goal. In elvish they have a word for it. They call it-”
“Riyria,” Royce finished for him.
“You know elvish?” Hadrian asked.
Royce glanced as if annoyed that Hadrian was still there.
“The point is,” the professor went on, “if over the course of this job you discover a mutual benefit in each other’s skills, you might consider continuing together.”
“Is that what this is all about, then?” Royce asked. “Because that’s not going to happen.”
“Yeah,” Hadrian agreed. “I don’t see either of us willingly sticking around the other. I’m not sure we could live in the same country. We’re opposites.”
“That’s the point, really,” Arcadius said. “What good is it to have duplicates? Opposites extend your range, your knowledge, your capabilities. If the two of you could learn to get along, you could be quite formidable, because you are so different. You are both at crossroads, unsure where to go next. Learn to trust each other, and you might find your way.”
“Uh-huh.” Royce stood up. “May I go start packing now, Teacher?”
Arcadius frowned.
Royce took this as a yes and walked out.
“Well, Hadrian, I hope you at least take me seriously.”
“I don’t have any plans for the future, but…” He sighed. There was just no way. He couldn’t think of any possible means to salvage the situation. He realized he liked the old man and wanted to leave him with hope. The old professor had gone to great lengths, but what he wanted was impossible. “It’s like you’re asking me to trust a poisonous snake. He’s a wild animal. One minute he seems fine and then I discover he’s just setting me up. I can’t trust him. Once he pays back whatever he owes you, I think it would be dangerous to keep him around. Once that restraint is gone … well, I know I’d never get any sleep.”
“That would be exhausting, wouldn’t it? Living in fear, unable to trust that the person next to you isn’t about to cut your throat.”
“Absolutely.”
Arcadius took off his glasses and set them on the desk before stepping around it to face Hadrian squarely. His eyes softened, the white brows dropping. He laid his hands on Hadrian’s shoulders. “And that’s how Royce spends every day of his life. I believe there’s a human inside that cloak, Hadrian. You just have to find a way to break through to it.”
“I suppose I’d need a reason first,” Hadrian said. “Honestly, if it wasn’t for Pickles, I’m not sure I’d even be doing this tower thing.”
A troubled looked washed over the professor. “I was afraid you’d say that.”
“Why? They’re still letting him in the school, right? You got him enrolled?”
“I did arrange for his enrollment, but, Hadrian, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
“Did he do something wrong?”
Arcadius ran a hand over his mouth, letting his fingers drag into his beard. “Pickles … is dead.”
Hadrian didn’t understand. What does he mean dead? As in not breathing, dead?
“Did you say dead?”
The professor nodded.
“I’m talking about Pickles. You know. The boy from Vernes-the one with the big smile. That’s who I’m talking about.”
“Yes, that Pickles. He’s dead.”
Hadrian just stared, still incapable of making sense of it.
“Angdon accused Pickles of trying to kill him.”
“But-”
“Angdon’s friends supported the claim. I did what I could, but the evidence was on Angdon’s side. Five established and trustworthy students-the sons of nobles-against the story of an orphan boy no one knew and who had a strange way of speaking.”
“What happened?”
“Pickles was executed for conspiracy to murder a noble-man.”
“Why didn’t you stop it? How could you let that happen? Pickles didn’t have anything to do with it. It was Royce who stabbed that kid!”
“I’m sorry. I did what I could.”
“What do you mean? You’re the master of lore. People call you a wizard! You’re telling me a wizard couldn’t stop them from killing a little innocent kid?!”
Hadrian’s hands were on his swords. He wanted to draw them on instinct. Usually when he felt this way his face was splattered with blood and he could swing at something. The only thing in front of him was an old man who looked near tears himself.
“I’m not a wizard,” Arcadius said. “There were wizards once. People who could perform real magic, but they all vanished with the fall of the empire. I’m just a teacher. My influence extends to students, not to the theocratic rule of Ghent. The church holds absolute authority here, and they brook no interference. They already see me as a borderline heretic. Twice I’ve been brought up on charges and barely escaped punishment. All I could do was tell them the truth, which believe me I did. But as I said, they don’t put much value on what I have to say.”
The professor lowered his head and turned away, walking slowly back to his desk.
Hadrian felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach-a wretched, empty sensation that made it hard to breathe. It wasn’t Arcadius’s fault. It wasn’t even Royce’s fault. Sometimes awful things just happened for no sensible reason. That didn’t stop him from being angry. He’d just have to keep being angry until he wasn’t anymore.
“What did they do with him?”
“I don’t know. He was taken out of the school. Surprisingly, he wasn’t made a spectacle. None of the students were even aware of it, I don’t think. He was executed on one of the nearby hills. I asked after his body. They refused to tell me even that much, maybe because they were taking it to show Angdon’s father.”
Arcadius sat down, bending over his desk and lowering his head into his arms. “I’m so very sorry, Hadrian.”
“Why didn’t you tell me when I first arrived?”
“I had planned to, but you were in such a state about Royce leaving you. I thought it best to let you have a decent night’s sleep.”
“Thanks for that,” Hadrian said. “And I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t your fault.”
The professor nodded. “I suppose this means you aren’t going to finish the job with Royce. Now that I’m no longer of any use to you.”
“Of course I’ll do it.” Hadrian let his palms glide over the sword pommels. “You held up your end of the bargain. You got Pickles enrolled. It wouldn’t be fair for me to back out now just because…”
Hadrian’s throat closed up unexpectedly. He swallowed several times, trying to clear it as tears welled up. He struggled to keep his breathing even, clenching his teeth.
“Thank you, Hadrian,” Arcadius said. “And for what it’s worth, I honestly believe that everything happens for a reason.”