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Fern would have loved to discuss the assignment with Josefa, but the historian’s expertise in the matter stopped her from doing so. She had no wish to appear like the Ferrows, who had tried so shamelessly to gain some advantage from her.

But the historian caught her glance before she looked away, and she gave a small smile.

“Are you as overwhelmed by the task ahead as I am?” she asked.

“If you are overwhelmed,” Fern said, “then there is surely no hope for the rest of us.”

“Trust me, Miss Sullivan. Knowing about Alchemy means only knowing how much there is left to learn.”

Fern had often thought the very same thing about Sumbra, but she did not say so out loud. Instead, she said, “Will you be focusing on Archaic Alchemy?”

“That is my area of expertise, but I will have to stray much further from what I know.” Josefa’s eyes drifted towards the window, a thoughtful expression softening her features. “When I came here, I planned on focusing only on myself, but now I realise that I cannot simply ignore my fellow candidates. Dr Essouadi will have extensive knowledge of medicinal and surgical alchemy. The general will be well-versed in transmutations, both Divine and common—most military experts are. As for the Santa Velia alchemists… deadly as it is, the Poison Tower blazes the trails of alchemy. The Ferrows will know things most of us won’t learn until the next decade.”

Josefa trailed into silence, and Fern could not help the swirling inrush of anxiety caused by her words. Fern, too, had thought she could only focus on herself, but Josefa was right—it would not be so simple as that.

“As for you, Miss Sullivan,” Josefa said finally, as though shaking herself out of her thoughts, “I’m sure you’ve learned much from the Sumbral entities you have worked with.”

“Hardly.”

Fern had visited many Gateways and interacted with many of their entities. Most people believed that those entities could simply be wheedled into sharing incantations and tomes of arcane knowledge.

But this was not the case. Communicating with those entities was like communicating with a splinter of the cosmos. Timeless, unfathomable beings, their goals and desires as nebulous as the abyss they inhabited.

Learning from them was difficult, unless one offered a hefty price.

And the heftiest price was one Fern had never been willing to pay. Others might—but the Sumbral Laws existed for a reason.

“Whatever I have learned,” Fern added with a small smile, “it won’t be nearly enough.”

“What will you do?” Josefa hesitated and then added tentatively, “I’ll help if I can.”

“No need,” said Fern. “Thank you. But I will simply do what I do best. Read.”

Chapter thirteen

The Deal

When a distant bellchimed lunchtime, the other candidates left, but Fern stayed. She was too nervous to eat, trepidation filling her stomach and leaving no room for food. The more she read and wrote, the more she realised the enormity of the work ahead.

One hundred symbols was a lot; she had barely made a note of forty she intended to use for her list.

And that was the easiest part of her task. She must yet research the rest of the symbols, decide which were most powerful, research cases when those symbols had been used to great success or impact. And that was before she could even get to the practice of the illustrations and the memorisation of the symbols, some of which were incredibly complex and detailed.

One week was just not long enough for a project of this scale, and Fern had also been planning to visit the Sumbra Wing to continue work on her own research. This, clearly, would have to be put on hold for now, unless she was ready to give up sleep to work.

Something she was more than willing to do.

“Oh.”

Fern started at the sound of a new voice.

She peered over the pile of books blocking her view of the room. Lautric was ambling up the aisle, the sound of his footsteps swallowed by the blue carpet. He was looking around with a slight frown at the empty desks. His gaze caught on Fern, and he faltered in his tracks.

“Where are the others?” he asked.

It was Fern’s turn to frown. Had he not heard the bell?

“Taking their lunch.”