Page 178

Outside, the Academy has grown quiet. Even the distant laughter from The Place has become little more than a murmur carried by the wind. I lean back against the side of her bed. "My brain refuses to memorize one more ward inscription."

"Then don't." Nyra answers.

"I have to."

"You'll remember more after resting."

"That sounds suspiciously reasonable."

"It usually is."

For several moments neither of us speaks. Nyra watches the flame dancing inside the candle. Absentmindedly turning her mug between both hands. She's thinking. Not about our notes. Something heavier. I know her well enough now to recognize the difference. Finally she looks at me. "Eirea?"

"Hm?" I answer.

"Can I tell you something?" The question is so quiet that, for a second, I almost miss it. I set my notebook aside.

"Always."

She smiles. A sad one. Not reaching her eyes. "I've never told anyone here."

My chest tightens. "You don't have to."

"I know." She looks down into her tea. "I want to."

She draws a slow breath. "When I arrived at Varethia..." She begins. "I promised myself something." She laughs softly. "Actually I promised myself a lot of things." She counts them silently on her fingers. "I wouldn't tell anyone where I came from. I wouldn't tell anyone my family's name. I wouldn't tell anyone about my mother." She pauses. "And I would never let anyone pity me." The last sentence almost sounds like a joke. Almost.

"You've never asked."

I frown. "Asked what?" I ask.

"About my family."

"I figured you'd tell me if you wanted me to know."

She nods slowly. "Exactly." Her fingers tighten slightly around the mug. "Do you know how many people have asked me about my family since I came here?"

I shake my head. "I don't."

She smiles sadly. "Neither do I."

I blink. "What?"

"Nobody." The smile trembles. "For the first time in my life people wanted to know me before they wanted to know my mother." The room suddenly feels much smaller. "My mother worked in our village's archives." She continues quietly. "She wasn't famous. She wasn't powerful.She just...loved history." I can almost hear the affection in her voice. "As a child I used to fall asleep under her desk while she copied records." She laughs once. "I thought every mother smelled like ink."

I smile despite myself. "She probably hated that." "No." Nyra's eyes shine faintly in the candlelight. "She loved it." Her smile fades. "One winter...Someone stole sealed records." She doesn't look at me anymore. "They disappeared. Weeks later, they appeared outside our village." My stomach tightens. "The Council investigated. They said my mother was responsible." Silence. "They accused her of leaking information that should never have left the archives." She pauses.

"What happened?" I ask. My voice barely rises above a whisper.

Nyra closes her eyes briefly. "Everything. People stopped coming to our house. My father lost his position. My grandparents..." She hesitates. "They never believed the accusation. They were convinced someone framed her."

I straighten. "Who?"

"My mother's assistant. They said he had access to everything she did. They trusted him. He disappeared before the investigation ended."

I frown. "They never found him?"

She slowly shakes her head. "No. The official story never changed. My mother became..." She struggles to find the word. "The woman who betrayed her own people."