I tucked the rolled-up paper into the pocket of my robe. I had stayed with the Bursar for an hour and a half. She made me calculate a lot of stuff to make sure I actually could do it. Payments going out, money coming in. All the lines were in code, so I didn’t understand anything except the numbers at the end. She checked every single calculation I did, bladed hand resting on my shoulder as her eyes scanned the papers. Her mouth was pointing to the side, almost out of my sight, but I could swear she was mumbling the numbers.
The paperwork meant for the merchants had a column for nights they spent inside. It explained why they didn’t stay long. Anyone would try to hold on, tolerate the sleepless nights, instead of paying the extortionist rates the Bursar was asking for. But they also got a discount if they stayed at least a week. I grinned as I walked the stairs up towards my dorm. She could have taught Hormens a thing or two about running a racket. I was only surprised at how positively relaxed this all seemed. She had seemed like she would drive me hard, but I had a couple of days before the next merchant left, and nothing to do before that.
This place was more different from the real world than I could believe. I yawned immediately as I pushed my face into the dorm room, so I pulled it back out again. I didn’t want to go inside and have to fight falling asleep, having another dream of the skeleton monster.
I wandered around the walkways. Some were made of wood, some of dark grey concrete. What was I doing here? I stepped up to the platform which was half-full of people, students in black robes standing and waiting for something. Grit shouted at me. I hadn’t paid attention and had walked right into whatever congregation this was supposed to be.
Grit bounded at me, white cheeks rosy and eyes wide.
“Why are all these people here?” I asked, wrinkling my nose at the scene.
“Great timing!” Grit said, rubbing her palms together with a scraping sound. “We’re early enough. We should still be able to get a seat!”
More people packed on the platform behind us, cutting off my escape. I noticed Minnelil in the front of the queue. Fek called out to Grit as he joined the queue, far behind us. I bristled at all the people pressed around me, jostling and chattering. Some skeletons walked through the queue, elbowing people and stepping on their toes. Everyone wore suede slippers. Why? It was the middle of winter, somehow, and the walkways were laced with ice.
Someone yelped. The guy behind me stumbled and bumped into my back.
“Watch it,” I said, shoving him back upright, but what happened behind him grabbed my attention. Three people were pushing their way forward, making people stumble on the stairs, that suddenly looked very narrow indeed. “What’s going on?”
Grit glanced back. “Ah, damn. It’s Lombarte. An asshole. And he has Smerz and Lorn with him, of course.”
I scoffed, but then my breath caught in my throat. The guy in front had coppery hair slicked back and a dark, tan face. His eyes were slanted slightly. All three of them wore black robes with badges on their chests like everyone else, but Lombarte’s robe was also decorated with red tassels and copper bells that tinkled as he walked.
How? Why?
“A Kertharian,” I whispered.
“Yes, I think the Lombartes are originally from… Lina? Are you okay?”
I panted, eyes locked on the red hair. I heard the flames crackling, the splinters raining on the roof. The wailing, always in the background.
“Lina, um?” someone said.
The Kertharian walked toward me, lip pulled up by the scar. Two vague shapes hovered behind her.
She glanced up at me. “Out of the wa—“
The timber hit the roof, drowning out the Kertharian’s words.
I clenched my teeth so hard something cracked. This couldn’t be real, but the smoke was in my lungs, and she had the same crazy expression she always had, after putting an arrow through my mother.
“Love,” she had whispered, as the blood pooled on the floor below her.
“Did you hear me?” she said, in a low voice. She didn’t have her dagger in her hand this time, and she hadn’t ever spoken before, only screamed. The fire didn’t flare up, and I wasn’t running, not this time. Something was wrong. For once, I could make it right.
“Die, you murdering bastard,” I growled, pulling back my fist.
“Huh?” She said in a low voice.
White arms wrapped around from under my elbows. “Don’t mind us!” Grit shouted into my ear. “We were, um, just going, and...” She yanked on my arms, pulling me off balance as I was preparing to kick the Kertharian. “Please! They are going to hurt you,” she whispered.
I pulled against the hold, readying a kick at the Kertharian. She… he scowled at me, his face twisting into a grimace. The sound of flames was replaced by murmuring, students jostling each other all around us.
“A new student?” Lombarte said, tilting his head up to look down at me. “Haven’t learned any manners yet? Lorn, teach her some.”
I stopped wrenching, gasped for air that wasn’t thick with soot and the smell of blood. Above me was black stone, not the burning home of back then. The wind howled, spraying my face with snow.
One of the lackeys grabbed the collar of my robe. He looked like a Kertharian as well, but that made no sense. He didn’t. I stared at his face, so much saner than the monsters had been.
I was scrambling to understand what was going on. The world snapped more into focus, the lackey was just a lackey in a black robe. Grit let go of my arms. She probably realized what the situation was and wanted to get out of the way. Smart.
Lorn pushed, making me take a step back. He was a big guy, but nothing compared to the big guys on the streets of Tenorsbridge. If he wanted a fight, I would give him one. Great distraction from whatever had happened right there. A palm to the elbow, then—
“Enough,” a low voice said, rumbling through the noise.
A hush came over the group. Even the goon holding on to my robe stopped breathing, face going pale.
Great.
Just perfect.
“Out of the way,” Falar said. His voice wasn’t loud, but in the total silence it didn’t need to be.
The group of students standing before him parted, rushing to the sides. One student was pushed near the edge of the walkway, but someone grabbed him before he could go over.
Falar walked past me and the guy still holding the front of my robe. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at us, as he opened the door into the lecture hall. “Orderly, now.”
There was a moment of silence as people stared at the open door. Then the scrambling began. “I was here first!” someone shouted.
Lorn released my robe as Lombarte stepped up to us. He sneered at me. “You know it’s tradition for freshmen to spend one night outside? Try not to—”
“Already did. It was boring,” I said, smoothing the front of my robe and nodding at the door. “You’re going to miss the lecture.”
Minnelil surfaced from the crowd, wading against the current and grabbing hold of my hand. “Hurry, you two.” She grabbed on Grit’s hand as well. Grit’s face was plastered with a wide smile, cheeks red and eyes glued on Falar’s back. What was her problem?
I got dragged behind Minnelil as she pushed into the crowd. Lombarte shouted something from behind me, but I tuned it out. Couldn’t be anything worth hearing. They would be coming for me later. I’d handle it then.
Minnelil passed through the crowd like she was ice skating. People seemed to give way to her without even realizing it.
Grit glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, even Fek made it in this time!”
Minnelil nodded, rushing us all the way to the third row of benches in the auditorium. Another massive room hidden inside the wall, large enough to hold a market. It made no sense.
“Sorry, sorry, coming through,” she said, stepping over the knees of people already seated and pulling me after her. “There’s at least two places here.”
“I’m holding this spot for... oh,” someone said, but stopped as I glared down at him.
He yanked his hand off the chair just in time for me to not sit on it. “I’ll move a bit farther back,” he said, standing up.
“Good idea,” I said.
Minnelil sat on my right side, Grit on my left. I was surrounded.
Falar stood on the stage, tapping his foot with a scowl on his face.
“Are these always this packed? What’s going to happen?” I asked, turning to look back. Lombarte and the lackeys had got in as well, seated somewhere near the back. I wondered if they would try to wait after the end of the lecture, come posture at me when Falar left. Bleh.
Grit craned her neck to follow my gaze and grimaced. “Even if it’s one of Falar’s lectures, cutting in line isn’t worth going up against people like that.”
I shrugged. It hadn’t been on purpose, but there was no way I was going to start explaining things to her. “He had an annoying face,” I said instead.
“Grit’s right. He thinks you’ve embarrassed him,” Minnelil said. “Lombarte’s not going to let it slide.”
“I’ll slide him down the stairs,” I said. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll deal with it.”
Grit and Minnelil exchanged glances, but someone shh’d us from behind. “He’s starting.”
“Quit yapping,” Falar said in his monotone drone. “Today’s subject will be finding the overtone series while pulling on the Null in combination with worldly runes.”
Finding the what of while what? A tiny squeak came from my right. I glanced at Grit, who was patting her thighs with both hands, grinning widely.
“He’s so dreamy,” she whispered.