Her face immediately cleared. “That explains it. My apologies, My Lord.”
Her attitude was brisk rather than obsequious, but I still felt a shiver of discomfort at her use of the general honorific for mages. I had never once used it, given the unusual circumstances of our acquaintance, but I couldn’t afford to forget who Zak really was.
“I know the faces of all the usual tutors,” the woman continued. “But I don’t recognize you.”
“That’s because I only just graduated the Academy,” he said with an easy smile.
“Ah, I see.” She smiled a little more readily. “Do you need a tour of our facilities?”
Zak easily took charge, charming the woman even as he commandeered her to show us around. I watched him uneasily, reminded that he might only be two years older than me, but he had been born and bred for the kind of command I would never wield. It came all too naturally to him.
He organized a locker for our use, along with slate and chalk for me and a pile of parchment for him. But when we finally stood on the threshold of the library, my legs shook so badly, I struggled to take the necessary step that would carry me inside. After a lifetime of resisting the allure of books and words—of carefully avoiding them, no matter how much my curiosity burned—it seemed impossible that I was being allowed, evenencouraged, to step into a room that contained whole shelves of books.
The official, who had largely forgotten me in the face of Zak’s charm offensive, looked back, her expression softening. “You were sealed in the recent ceremony?” she asked gently.
I nodded, my mouth too dry for speech.
“It will become normal soon, if you can believe it. It’s why I like showing the newcomers around. It’s good to remember what it felt like the first time.”
“Come on, Aria,” Zak said with a grin. “You won’t learn to read standing out there.”
I took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold.
We met at the office of sealed affairs most days after that. My initial awe was soon replaced with frustration as I developed a hatred for my slate. I might have been surrounded by books, but I was clearly a long way from being able to read any of them.
Thankfully, I knew how to work hard, and slowly I made progress. Zak wasn’t equally dedicated to his own studies, but he showed endless patience with me and seemed to find satisfaction from my progress. Privately, I thought he made a better teacher than a student. If he failed to gain admittance to a discipline after his year at the University, I would suggest he consider tutoring. It might not be prestigious, but it was possible to earn good coin from families like the Robarts.
I usually brought myself food from home to last me for the day, but at least once a week, Zak lured me out to a local food stall, or even to one of the markets to buy something hot and fresh. He always dressed in the same manner, making it easy for the two of us to blend in with the crowds of commonborn in thelower city, and usually he seemed relaxed and natural, despite the setting.
When we walked, we talked of things beyond our studies—our families, our plans for the future, foolish pranks of our childhood, and anything that occurred to us.
But every now and then, he would insist we take a sudden detour, usually through a less frequented alley or street, and he didn’t like taking the same route too often. I refrained from questioning his odd behavior because I could easily guess the reason for it. Even mages sometimes had reasons to visit the lower city, and they certainly had servants. It made sense that Zak would sometimes spot someone he knew.
His desire to keep our association secret wasn’t flattering, but I couldn’t be surprised that he didn’t want to be seen with me by anyone he knew. He might be a tutor for the summer, but he still had hopes of joining a discipline and rising above the rank of mages who were reduced to such activities.
It helped that his odd, erratic behavior suited my purposes as well. His desire for novelty meant we rarely visited markets near my home, and even when we walked together, it was down less frequented routes. As far as I knew, no one in my family had yet laid eyes on Zak.
Some days I put aside my own progress to insist we focus on Zak’s studies, and he gradually grew more interested. During our time walking the city, I had learned that his two favorite disciplines were the growers and the creators, since they were both focused around creation, although in different ways. Zak had a fascination with how systems worked and seemed to have a natural instinct for how they could be improved. Wanting to prove myself an equally good teacher, I directed his studies toward topics that would interest him, igniting his curiosity.
“I’ll admit that studying with you is more engaging than I expected,” he told me. “And I liked the practical studies at theAcademy, too. But at the University, the studies are much more academic. Even if I focus on one of my preferred disciplines, I’ll have to write endless essays on the discipline’s history, as well as cataloging the full breadth of Ardann’s knowledge on all relevant topics.”
“What’s wrong with that?” I asked, and he laughed.
“You really are a true student, Aria. Unlike me, you’re going to love the University.”
“I hope so.” I fell silent for a minute imagining it.
I hadn’t visited the impressive University building yet, not even stepping inside its grounds. I didn’t dare walk through the gates until I was officially a student. But I was glad to have spent so many weeks growing accustomed to the sealed affairs’ office and its library. I was much less likely to embarrass myself when I first arrived at the University now.
“I think you might be rubbing off on me, though,” he said. “When I see your joy at learning, I feel a sort of faint itch. Possibly a small twinge.”
I glared at him suspiciously. “You make it sound like you’re ill.”
“I think I might be,” he said gravely. “I feel the faintest echoes of…” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Enjoyment at learning.”
I whacked him lightly on the arm as I laughed, glad we were alone in our study room. If any other students were in earshot, they would be giving us disapproving looks for disturbing their peace.
“You’re ridiculous,” I said. “I don’t know how you’ll last a month at the University.”
