Chapter 38. The Bursar’s Broken Arm
I stretched my arms high, and bent my back into a curve. Something cracked sweetly in my lower back. “Damn, didn’t realize how long I sat. Never had time to sit around like this before.” I pressed my palms on my lower back and tried to make it crack again. “Or a chair to sit on, for that matter.”
“It’s good to train sitting down to minimize distractions at first,” Minnelil said. “Later you’ll naturally have to practice while moving around.” She lay on her stomach, knees bent so her feet pointed up. The book had been balanced to stand against the bed’s headboard.
Someone knocked on the door.
I glanced at Minnelil, who glanced back, frowning.
“Yes?” she asked.
Grit opened the door and peeked in. “Oh,” she said, looking disappointed.
“Oh? What is it?” I asked. “Want to go check if the coats are ready?”
Grit sighed. “I worked so hard,” she muttered. “Fine. Let’s go.”
“So, cleaning the workshop was hard? Hector really put you to work?”
Grit scoffed, walking down the stairs before me. “Ah, forget it. Let’s go try on that coat.”
Ang squealed with excitement as we stepped in. “I can’t wait to see how everything fits. The dark fur should accentuate your complexion perfectly.”
“She’s white,” I said flatly.
“And what a nice shade of white,” he said, lifting his hand to compare it to Grit’s face.
Grit’s cheeks tinted rosy, and she rolled her massive red eyes. “Heard that, Lina?”
“Yeah, it’s important to look your best when getting lost on a mountain. Come on, try it on already.”
The merchant helped the coat on Grit, letting her slide her left arm in first, then easing it up over her shoulders.
Fine. The dark fur did look really good on her. “The hat is still odd,” I said.
“Height of fashion,” Ang said, flicking off a piece of lint from the top of Grit’s tall cylinder-hat.
“Height is right,” I muttered.
Outside, the wind howled. Skeletons pushed snow into huge heaps using some kind of massive shovels they pushed before them. Even if the wind couldn’t blow near the walls and everything melted around them, the snow piled everywhere, rolling in from the darkness beyond the Academy’s calm. Hector was standing with hands in his pockets, a tiny figure next to a mountain of snow.
“Still working,” I said, watching Hector shout something to the skeletons. His voice was barely audible over the howling wind.
“He keeps this whole place running,” Grit said. “And doesn’t have much else to do except the work. Maybe he’s just trying to keep busy.”
“Couldn’t they have hired another janitor? Oh wait, the Bursar wouldn’t have liked that.”
Grit shrugged, walking toward the side of the Academy where our dorm was. “She doesn’t like anything.”
“I don’t know,” I said, pulling the cowl deeper over my head as we had reached the middle of the grounds, where the wind blew hardest. “She’s a curious… Bursar, I guess.”
Grit shrugged again. “Weren’t you going to take the slip to her?”
“Dang, true. If I don’t come back, tell Fek he can have my spare robe.”
“We can each use it in turn,” she said. “Good luck.”
I chuckled, waved a hand, and turned to head to the Bursar’s office. I wasn’t too worried. I could pin the decision on Falar, and she seemed to like me. Everyone said she was an emotionless machine if you didn’t take into account the spite, the rage, and the greed.
I wasn’t so sure. Maybe she was lonely. The idea was so dumb it made me groan out loud.
I took a deep breath, gazing to the northern sky. The moon hung feebly over the mountain range, where I would be going soon.
I was already further from home than I ever thought I could get. No matter what I considered home to be, this was pretty far. But the mountains were something else. The maps ended at them.
I shivered and continued walking.
“Harrumph,” the Bursar screeched. “The cost for the fitting is. Objectionable. But I applaud. The deal you got.”
The merchant had written down the original price and crossed it over, writing the final cost below it. He even rounded the number down as a special greeting to the Bursar, as he had put it. “He’s a fun guy,” I said. “It’s decent you let him sleep inside while we take his tent.”
“Decent. Scoff.” She wheeled around, slamming the invoice on the table and pinning it there with one of her scalpel fingers. “Anglhromendiabilis. Drives a hard bargain. Jextor demanded tents. I got them for him. As a return favor. He will get me a new arm.”
“Oh, right. You said you had four before?” I asked, happy to change the subject from the surprise extra cost.
“Yes. It broke when I hit him on the head. The Chancellor is tougher than he looks.”
“Even tougher? Huh.”
“Yes. It is infuriating. Enough. Was there anything else?”
“Well, I’ll be gone, but it should be fine as there are no merchants other than Ang, and he’s staying put, right?
“Yes. Your services are unnecessary. But once you are back. You will assist me with something else.”
“Sure. What is it?” I asked. It was fun listening to the clicking and whirring when she was preparing a new batch of speech. I tried to guess the next word while waiting, and sometimes even got it right.
“Establishing alternative supply routes. Preparing for the excess expenditure of acquiring enough sundries for the deep winter.”
“The deep winter? This hasn’t been it?”
“Hah,” she said. “You. Succulent. Spring. Chicken.”
I closed the door behind me and whistled. Well, a first time for anything. I had been called a lot of things, but never that one. Another loose thread handled before the trip. I still didn’t know what to expect. At least the company would be interesting.
The ward pulsed around my neck. I grimaced and closed my eyes, holding myself in place so as not to push against the non-existing choker.
A thought struck me and I made myself still, turning my attention inward. Maybe… maybe I could feel it? Fek had blotted out everything in the room earlier, scaring me enough that I lost my focus. I leaned against the wall next to Bursar’s office. No one would bother me here, that was for sure.
The wind whistled a low note, thrumming steadily. I let it blow, turned it into a sound. My jaw was tight, so I unclenched it, allowed my brows to unknit.
The magic blossomed. I didn’t try moving the mana anywhere. I only held still, imagined feeling the tingling more sharply than ever, making out its currents and nuances. My nose itched, but it always did. The itch turned into a tiny screw being drilled into the tip of my nose, and I kept ignoring it.
The ward around my neck was a spiderweb of light, dizzyingly thin. It moved in time with my breathing and the slightest touches of the wind, reacting to something carried by it. I lifted my hand, touching the weave, and the strands lit up under my fingers.
“Whoa,” I whispered. The ward was so intricate. It flexed and bent, but I felt the knots, the tangles where it would fray if pulled. I moved to pinch the central strand but stopped myself in time. What a devastatingly bad idea it would be, how devastatingly easy.
I opened my eyes and shook my head, shaking off the strands of magic floating around me. They stuck to my skin, like walking face-first into a spiderweb in a forest. I rubbed at my face with both hands as I walked toward the dorm.
The whole gang was present. Fek and Grit sat around the table and were practicing drawing runes into the air. Minnelil stood next to them, biting her lower lip. She was holding a book with one hand, but then the rune sparked, Fek yelped a laugh, and Minnelil’s other hand moved to slap him or the rune or to cover her face from the explosion. Hard to say.
“Got it!” Fek said, stabilizing his rune.
I squinted for a while and recognized it as the fire rune. No wonder Minnelil seemed so wary. “I could feel the magic again,” I said. “Can I join you?”
Minnelil threw me a desperate glance. “You, too? I’m going to go on a walk.” She snapped the book shut and placed it on the table. A small spark shot up from the rune Grit was drawing. Minnelil picked the book up again, turning it around to make sure it hadn’t been singed.
I chuckled and sat down next to Fek. “How long have you been at it? She seemed ready to snap.”
“Five minutes?” Fek said.
Grit grinned at me and shrugged. “I was too excited to go to sleep, so I practiced for a bit. My first field trip!”
“Yeah, that’s the part you’re excited about,” I said, rolling my eyes. Minnelil had tucked the book safely into her chest and was about to open the door. “Oh, I asked Falar about our exams,” I called after her. “He said Coratorus himself will grade them.”
Minnelil grabbed the door handle and groaned. “Great. I’ll be dead centuries before we get the results.”
“Wait. How… how long would that be?”
Fek flinched back and laughed as flame roared for a heartbeat before his face. “Whoa!” He touched his face, checking whether he still had his eyebrows. “I can ask Hector to tell Coratorus to get around to it?”
“You can ask the janitor to tell the most powerful lich on the continent to handle it?” I asked, pointing a thumb at Minnelil. “Wasn’t that what she said they were?”
“Please, if you’re going to practice here, at least focus,” she said, closing her eyes and sighing. “I want there to be a dorm left when I come back.”
Fek grinned at her. “Don’t worry. Grit and Lina will look after me.”
“We won’t,” Grit said.
“No,” I said.
“Stuck in a dorm with three girls,” Fek said, leaning back in his chair and placing his hands behind his neck. “I knew you’d gang up on me.”
“It has nothing to do with…” Grit pinched the side of her nose with her white fingers.
“Just do it,” I said. “I want to watch the mana.”
“And now you’re making it weird, as well,” Grit said.
I grinned. They continued bickering but I tuned it out, quieting my mind and readying myself to sense it. I would need to figure out how to look past Fek’s blaze.
Maybe it was weird watching someone like this, seeing them do it. Personal somehow? Would Falar think it weird that I was looking at his ward?
I scoffed.
I hope he would.
Fek had tired himself out and everyone had said good night to each other. Minnelil still hadn’t come back.
I woke with a start as the door closed. An old reflex. A door being closed softly was never a good sign.
My heart thudded as I creaked one eye open. Minnelil had both of her hands on the door, pushing it gently. She’d almost gotten in without waking me. Worrying.
It was dark. Grit had extinguished the orb of light when we went to bed earlier. Minnelil’s eyes shone, lit up by the golden flecks swimming in them. It was funny being able to see the green of her eyes in almost total darkness.
Her gaze met mine. She nodded imperceptibly at me, taking a tip-toed step toward her bed.
I pushed myself into a sitting position, the sound of the covers loud in the total quiet of the dark dorm.
I just posted a new Patreon bonus scene with the Bursar. I was sort of scared when she won the vote (tied with Minnelil) about which character people wanted to see special content about, but I like to think I did her justice. The scene turned out... relatively unhinged. You can check the buildup for free if you want!