“Not really, no… but you could probably twist my arm into stopping by your academy periodically to test your people. No more than once or twice a year at most. It would be a day of my choosing, at my convenience. On my own schedule, of course, whenever I return home to the Core between my usual paying contracts.”
I was stunned. “That’s incredibly charitable of you.” Then I grew suspicious, because from what I’d seen here, it was rare for anyone in the Core to ever do anything purely out of kindness. Practically everyone in this city always had an angle they were working. “What’s the catch?”
“A wise question. But there isn’t a catch that I can think of. To be fair, Mr. Carnavon, I’ve been doing this alongtime. I’ve put away enough for a comfortable retirement. I’ve traveled to more kingdoms than I can remember, tested tens of thousands, and I’ve watched the light go out of their eyes when I shattered their dreams and told them they’re destined to be mundane. It’s uncommon to have anyone test as a zero and then come back and try again and make rank one later. And most of those received a great deal of help from a wizardly relative or parents wealthy enough to afford a tutor and an endless supply of element to play with. To pull it off through your own experimentation, with a single element, in an environment where practicing spells was forbidden, is a miracle.”
And to think just this morning I’d been asking Saint Persistence for a miracle. Little had I realized, he’d already granted me one in my life. “From what I’ve seen from our other students, we’re not as rare as you think. There’s others who’re willing to put in the work too.”
“That’s heartening. Are you a religious man, Mr. Carnavon?”
“I am, sir, yes.”
“Are you familiar with Saint Sabriel?”
“I’m not, but there are a whole lot of them to keep track of.”
“Indeed. The gods have appointed a saint for every virtue and condemned a notable fiend for every vice. One of my favorites is the Saint of Greater Purpose.” He lifted a chain from around his neck and showed me a medallion that he wore next to his heart. It had a beautiful woman’s face on it, and was obviously enchanted. “Sabriel’s revered among the flotilla settlements of the mist lands where the Planes of Water and Air meet. That was my first assignment. I bring her up because the way the cadre folk are talking about you back in Fogo reminded me a bit of her story. She, too, was condemned to nothing, but thwarted destiny, made her own way, and went on to do great and important things.”
“I like her already.”
Pivorotto put the medallion away. “After I heard you were looking for me, I asked around about your academy and what you were doing down here. I was told about this gaggle of rejects, teaching each other spells they cobbled together on their own. The gossips of the Collegium have noticed, and they’re eagerly awaiting your failure. But for me, what you’re doing harkens back to the early history of magic, from before the Council organized everything. Back when there were no codified schools and we were taming wild magic from scratch. I suppose mostly I want to help because I’m curious to see how this works out.”
“It’ll either be brilliant or total shit. I can promise you that!”
He laughed. “Splendid. Then I’ll draw up a basic contract. For now, I will consider my time a tithe to Sabriel. In the future, your academy can pay me what you can, when you can, and in the meantime, I’ll stop by periodically to test your best and watch the show.”
I couldn’t believe this good fortune. Having a real official tester for our little academy would grant us more legitimacy. Word would spread that one could improve hereandmake it official. The number of recruits would grow, and with them, so would our combined knowledge of magic. The Academy of Outcasts would be on our way!
Now all we needed to do was survive tomorrow and we were set. I still had no idea how to do that, but as I learned in my short life, you mine the Red one swing of the pick at a time.
“You have no idea how much I appreciate this. We won’t let you down.”
“Once the contract is filed, other testers may stop by unannounced to audit my work for accuracy, but I doubt any of them will ever bother coming down to the Under Slump. I’m a bit odd in that I don’t mind the smell. It’s unfortunate the rest of your students are away—or recently deceased—as I’ve got a bit of free time this morning before my wife needs me to run errands.”
“I could test again.”
“I admire the spirit, but you’ve only been a rank one for a few months. Progressing that fast is unheard of unless you’re some kind of prodigy.”
“I onlytestedas a one a few months ago. Which was just confirming what I’d been working on for years before. I only knew four spells then, all Red-based. I’ve mastered more than double that now and added Clear and Black. I’ve played around with ten other spells in the meantime, but haven’t gotten them down yet. I’ve practiced a lot, spent every spare Tetar onelement, and put my spells to good use, producing effects on demand, even under pressure.”
I wasn’t even exaggerating either, because there’s no pressure quite likemake this work right now or I’m gonna die.
Pivorotto nodded along at my list of efforts. “This is why no one has ever accused a hotlander of being lazy.”
We had bums just like everyone else; ours just had a tendency to get tossed overboard before they caused too much trouble for their cadre. “If the early ranks are based purely upon a measure of magical affinity, and I’ve doubled what I know from when last we met, then I’m confident I’m there.”
“It’s not a measure of labor, but of results. However, I suppose the test itself doesn’t require much element to fuel it, so there’s no harm in giving you a chance.” He removed a white bracelet from his wrist, which I recalled he’d said was a material called ivory, carved from the tusks of a creature known as a doom whale, which came from the same plane of existence as Trax. “Don’t be disappointed when you’re found lacking.”
“Disappointment hasn’t stopped me yet.” I took hold of the charm. “Ready.”
There was no vocal component to the testing spell, and Pivorotto remained nonchalant. I think a tester’s specialty was more about reading and interpreting the results more than any sort of difficulty in launching the spell itself. With their value being derived from the accuracy of their judgment, it was no wonder their guild kept their formula a secret.
There wasn’t any way to deceive a tester as far as I knew, but just in case it helped, I tried to focus on the various enchantments I had stashed on me. That extra second of effort was likely pointless, but it gave me something to do other than be nervous while Pivorotto read my aura or whatever baffling thing it was that testers did.
Last time, the charm had turned ice cold. This time, it surprised me, as the ivory went hot. Not enough to burn a callused Fogo hand, but it probably would’ve caused someone from one of the lesser realms to flinch and let go.
“Well, I’ll be a manticore’s uncle…” Pivorotto gave me a big grin. “You continue to surprise me, Ozwald Carnavon, mage of thesecondrank.”
That made me grin like an imbecile. “I knew it. I fucking knew it!”
