Secrets and Spellcraft Page 2

  Setting aside her tea, Dianne stood and offered Will her hand. “Dianne Young,” she said briskly.

  She’s anything but young, noted Will, immediately chiding himself for his uncharitable thought. To make up for it, he took her hand in his, but instead of shaking it as was expected, he bent over it and brushed his lips across her knuckles, a gesture he had learned at the palace. “William Cartwright, milady,” he said with a grin.

  Dianne blushed mildly and gave Rob a surprised look. “This one is going to be trouble.”

  “Don’t look at me!” exclaimed Rob. “He’s your child now, Mom.”

  “As if I could give birth to so many unruly boys,” said Dianne. “Come with me, William. I’ll give you your room key. I think there are some packages waiting on you as well.”

  “Just Will, please,” he begged.

  “Will, then,” agreed Dianne. “Call me Dianne.”

  She turned away, already starting toward the desk that served as her duty station. Rob gave Will a wink and mouthed a word silently. Will took his cue and called out, “Sure thing, Mom.”

  The resident assistant kept walking, but she cast a stern eye on Rob. “How long are you going to keep that going?”

  “Until you finally agree to marry me, Mom,” said Rob with a roguish grin.

  “Hmmph. I’m more than twice your age, you scoundrel. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to, with your unorthodox comings and goings.” She leafed through a book on her desk and then turned to open a door behind her desk, unlocking it with a key that hung around her neck. She went in and returned a moment later. She handed Will a brass key. “You’re in 407 with Seth Gabet.”

  Dianne pointed at Rob and snapped her fingers. “There’s a box in there for him. Be a dear and carry it since he’s already got a bag.”

  Rob emerged a moment later carrying a heavy wooden crate, then led Will to the stairs. Will took pity on him. “I’ll switch with you.” Despite his brief tenure in the dungeons, he was still fresh from his time in the army.

  “No, I’m fine,” protested Rob, but by the time they had climbed the fourth flight he was red-faced and panting, while Will wasn’t even breathing hard.

  “I offered,” said Will as he stepped into a long, wood-paneled hallway. The building’s interior was old, but well maintained. He passed several doors, noting the numbers on them, until he came to 407. “Here we are.” Keys were a relatively new thing for him, so he fumbled with it for a full minute before finally getting the lock to turn.

  Inside, the room was positively palatial by Will’s standards. His one week in the palace notwithstanding, he had spent a significant portion of the past few years sleeping on the ground. This room held a massive, wood-framed bunk bed that dominated the right wall. A narrow window was set in the opposite wall, and he was shocked to realize it held actual glass. On the left-hand side were two study desks separated by a pair of tall dressers.

  He was drawn immediately to the window, dropping his armor bag on the floor and staring outside. A view of the well-manicured lawns of Wurthaven greeted him, and he stuck his head outside to inhale the air. I’ve died and gone to heaven. Far below, he saw both male and female students walking, and he was unable to restrain himself. Sticking his arm out, he began waving.

  Rob quickly pulled him back in. “They’ll think you’re off in the head if you keep doing that.”

  “I don’t mind,” said Will. “This feels like a dream.”

  “You are living the dream, my dear fellow,” said Rob, looking out the window. He swept his arm wide. “Below you will find a field of choice fruit, ripe for the taking.”

  “Fruit?”

  Rob winked. “Girls, my friend, girls. Half the student body is of the feminine persuasion. Merchants’ daughters, well-fed and well-dressed, daughters of noblemen, they lie before us like a banquet waiting to be supped upon.”

  Will frowned. “Daughters of noblemen?”

  His new friend held up his hands in a placating gesture. “All right, I’ll admit, most of those are not to be trifled with, but you never know. Some are third or fourth children of lesser gentry. Besides, you don’t necessarily have to marry them.” His lips split to show pearly teeth.

  “I didn’t come here to chase girls,” said Will disapprovingly.

  “You should. Many profitable matches begin with a chance meeting at Wurthaven. Play your cards right and you could even move up the ladder a step or two. Personally, though, I simply revel in the chase.”

  “I have a friend you should meet,” said Will, thinking of Tailtiu. His aunt would make short work of someone like Robert Burwood.

  “Oh really?”

  Will shook his head. “Never mind. Let’s see what’s in the box.”

  Chapter 2

  He was glad they opened the crate before venturing out, as it contained a number of things Will had thought he would need to buy. There were two sets of light woolen trousers and matching linen shirts. Below those was a pair of leather shoes of a sort he had never worn. The shoes sat atop a pile of blank journals and beside those was a slender wooden box that held metal pens and ink as well as charcoal for sketching. An envelope had fallen down on one side and Will retrieved it.

  Within were two sheets of folded paper. The first was a note:

  William,

  Despite the nature of our last meeting I would like to congratulate you on your entry into Wurthaven’s halls of learning. I still think fondly of my own time there and wish you the best in the coming years.

  I regret not being able to sponsor you directly, but as Lognion has advised, that would probably not be the best course for either of us. Therefore I am grateful to him for giving you this opportunity. I have included a number of items that I am sure you will need over the coming year, and for those things which I couldn’t foresee I have included an allowance. Take the note of credit enclosed with this letter to the Bursar’s Office and they will see you paid.

  On other matters I would tell you that the campaign against Darrow has gone remarkably well, thanks in large part to your efforts. Barrowden is once again in Terabinian hands and the Crown is investing resources to rebuild the area. A fortress will be raised to prevent similar disasters in the future.

  Best of luck,

  M.

  “M?” asked Rob, leaning over his shoulder. “Who’s that?”

  “Someone who feels guilty,” said Will in a neutral tone. He glanced at the note of credit and after a moment he spotted the bottom line. “Ten crowns?”

  “Not bad!” said Rob. “That’ll keep you in beer for the semester at the very least.”

  That wasn’t what was on Will’s mind. That amount was three times what he would have made in a year if he had stayed with the army. It seemed like a ridiculous amount of money. He pocketed the note. “Let’s go see the bursar.”

  “I can give you the grand tour along the way,” said Rob magnanimously.

  The trip to the bursar was uneventful, as was the tour, although the peaceful and scenic campus continually amazed Will. He hadn’t even imagined such a place existed, so everything was a surprise. Robert left him to his own devices after a while and Will returned to his room. On the way in Dianne caught him and told him he had a new letter waiting.

  It turned out to be a notice that he was to meet with his advisor, Paul Wattle, in the morning to confirm his classes. He took it with him and when he got back to his room, he met his roommate, Seth Gabet.

  Seth was possessed of dark curly hair and a pale almost deathly white complexion only partly offset by the moustache and patchy beard he was trying to nurture. He glanced up nervously as Will came in and raised one hand in a silent greeting.

  Will strode forward, putting out his hand. “I’m Will Cartwright. Good to meet you.”

  “Seth,” was all his roomie could manage in response.

  “Are you a first-year student too?”

  Seth nodded, his eyes darting to the side as though he was uncomfortable. “Would
you like the bottom bunk?” He asked the question as though he assumed Will would take preference, even though he had obviously already been using it.

  Will frowned. “You were here first. Plus, I rather like being up off the ground.”

  The other boy stood up, moving as though he would strip the sheets. “I’ll move up top. It’s no trouble.”

  He put his hand on Seth’s shoulder and felt the young man flinch at his touch. “It’s all right. I prefer the top anyway. Why are you so nervous?”

  Seth stared at his feet. “I didn’t think I’d be rooming with a young lord,” he answered after a moment. “We can probably find someone to switch rooms if you want.”

  “Lord?” Will began to laugh. “I’m from Barrowden. My mom is a village midwife. I don’t even know my father. You don’t have to worry about me looking down on you!”

  “Oh.” The tension in Seth’s shoulders began to fade.

  “Besides,” said Will, “I was told that all the students here are treated equally. Even the teachers and administrators prefer their university titles to whatever social rank they have.” Rob had explained the custom to him during their tour.

  “Sure,” agreed Seth, but it was obvious that he didn’t really believe it.

  From the other things Rob had said Will also had gathered that most of the students were from modestly wealthy families, while a smaller percentage were from the gentry. With that in mind, he asked, “What does your family do?”

  “Dad’s a cobbler,” said Seth quietly. “But he’s done well.”

  It took an hour to coax more out of the nervous young man, but Will eventually learned that Seth’s father was one of the most successful cobblers in Cerria. Seth himself had shown little facility in his father’s trade, so his dad had taken an apprentice and hoped that his son could find a better place for himself as a wizard. Will wasn’t sure what the tuition at Wurthaven cost, but he gathered that it was only barely within Seth’s family’s means.

  So, he’s at the bottom of the ladder, realized Will, and here I am being sponsored by King Lognion. No wonder he was fearful. He was happy he could put his roommate at ease, since they might potentially be sharing a room for years.

  Later in the day they went to the dining hall and had supper, sitting at a table by themselves. Will studied the students that sat at the other tables but didn’t find any opportunities to introduce himself. He knew no one other than Rob and Seth, but he hoped that soon that would change.

  He went to sleep that night feeling optimistic.

  ***

  Will was running. He had left his advisor’s office with a list of classes and the knowledge that he would be late for the first of them if he didn’t hurry. The class he was rushing to find was Composition, located in Room 302 of the General Lectures building, which was one of the four buildings on the central quad.

  Two of his other classes were there as well, History and Mathematics. His others were all in separate buildings. In the afternoon he had Spell Theory at the Magical Theory and Divination building, just across the quad. After those he would have his last class, Alchemy, in a building that was well separated from the main buildings of the quad. His next class after that wouldn’t start until the next day, at the crack of dawn. That was his physical elective, for which he had chosen Fencing.

  When he finally found the classroom, he was definitely late, but he opened the door anyway. He didn’t expect to see forty pairs of curious eyes looking down upon him as he entered, though. The class took place in a small auditorium with seats that angled up on a slope so that everyone could see, while at the base was a small platform and a podium.

  The lecturer, a woman named Jennifer Conrad, turned out to be far younger than he had expected. She was clad in a long, black robe from which emerged a white collar with an aesthetically pleasing hand-tied bow. Her form was entirely hidden by the robe, but from the face alone he could tell she was a stunningly lovely woman.

  Professor Conrad’s eyes were hard and unforgiving, however, as she stared at the late arrival. Will felt himself begin to wither under her glare. “Name?” she asked coldly.

  “William Cartwright, ma’am.”

  “Take a seat. Arrive late again and I’ll have you ejected.”

  He walked up the side aisle, but rather than go all the way to the empty rows in the back he spotted an empty seat in the third row and crossed over to sit there. A girl with mousy brown hair looked at him briefly and then studiously pretended he didn’t exist. Will whispered to her in a convivial tone, “Will, nice to meet you.” He turned his head to the right and repeated his greeting to a pale-haired guy who promptly put his hand up to prevent eye contact.

  This is going well, thought Will sarcastically.

  Glancing around, he soon realized he should have brought pen and paper, for everyone else was rapidly taking notes as Professor Conrad talked, while he was empty handed. Will’s stomach sank as it occurred to him that even if he had, he couldn’t possibly have written fast enough. His penmanship was more than just crude—it was also far too slow.

  Free from the labor of note taking, Will did his best to remember everything the professor said. Despite his grandfather’s constant criticism, he had come to realize early on that his memory was pretty good. Hopefully, he could find someone later willing to share their notes.

  Since he was able to devote all his attention to listening, he also had some extra time to try and understand what the lecturer was trying to achieve—the purpose of the topic. It all came down to one simple thing; Professor Conrad was hoping to teach them to write and communicate effectively with pen and paper. For the foreseeable future, his life would be preoccupied with a fair amount of reading and a much larger amount of essay writing.

  For someone who still struggled to write legibly, it seemed like an insurmountable task, but he didn’t let his fear drive him. He’d known fear on the battlefield, he’d survived the constant scathing criticism of his grandfather, what was the worst that could possibly happen? Humiliation, or possibly being expelled, he decided. Until then I’ll learn as much as I can. He kept his eyes and ears open, trying to absorb everything Professor Conrad said and wrote on the board behind her.

  When the class finally ended, he relaxed. The students were exiting rapidly, and the fellow on his right was gone before he could say a word. He addressed the girl to his left again, since she had to get past him to exit. “Sorry for interrupting. I’m William Cartwright.” He stood and made room for her to get by.

  “Janice,” she said quietly. “Janice Edelman.” Then she was gone. The hall emptied, and he sat back down, closing his eyes for several minutes and letting his mind drift and assimilate what he had heard. That done, he rose and headed for the dorm. He needed to pick up a journal and writing materials for his next classes.

  Mathematics was a relief, as he was easily able to write down what he needed, and the material was all comfortably within what he had previously learned. In History, he found the topic familiar, but it was rapidly apparent he couldn’t take notes fast enough. He gave up before long and resumed listening.

  Will sat alone at lunch, unable to find anyone he knew. He was picking apart a piece of fish he couldn’t identify but that would probably have been excellent if the cook hadn’t overcooked it—when a stranger stopped and pulled out the chair across from him. “Hello,” said Will, flashing a smile.

  “I hear you came in on a royal sponsorship,” said the young man sitting across from him.

  He studied the newcomer for a moment, taking in the high quality of his jacket and noting the gold ring set with a wide ruby that was carelessly displayed. The other boy had long brown hair that appeared to have been curled or styled in deliberate fashion. A fire elemental hung in the air above his right shoulder. “I’m William Cartwright,” he said, offering his hand across the table.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” said the young noble.

  Will stared back evenly but kept his expression calm. “You
made a simple statement. Was I supposed to interpret it as a question?” He waited several seconds without blinking, then added, “If so, then yes. King Lognion sponsored me.”

  “You’ve got some spine, Cartwright. I like that. Dennis Spry.” The young noble held out his hand in a duplicate of the gesture Will had made a few moments before.

  Will didn’t move. “You wouldn’t shake my hand a second ago. Why now?” Dennis had managed to set his teeth on edge. The young man reminded him of a younger version of Dave, full of repressed anger and a sense of entitlement, only Dennis hadn’t had the experience of a world that refused to accept his demands. Dave’s personality had been tempered in the school of hard knocks, while Dennis had been encouraged in his every whim.

  Dennis gave him a smile of smug superiority. “I didn’t want to dirty my hand if you didn’t have at least a bit of merit.” His hand was still out, hanging in the air.

  He knew the wise option would be to quickly take the other man’s hand, but his pride wouldn’t allow it. Instead, he replied, “I have always assumed everyone has some merit, but you’ve changed my mind.”

  Dennis’s face clouded with anger and he sat back, crossing his arms. “That’s a shame. I thought perhaps we could have been friends.” He stood, looking down at Will. “No need to be enemies, though. There’s a party at Malview House on Friday night. You should come.” He dropped a small envelope on the table. With that he left.

  It was only then that Will spared enough attention to realize the dining hall had gone silent. He tried not to look around, but he could feel that all eyes were on him. What did I just do? he wondered.

  Chapter 3

  His next class was Spell Theory, and Will arrived early enough to get a seat in the second row. Will leaned forward with interest when the professor entered, an older man named Dulaney. This was the one class on his schedule that he thought would be the most interesting. Today I’ll begin to learn the things Grandfather never got to teach me, he thought with anticipation.