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“It’s an extraordinary gift,” I murmur.

“Don’t read too much into it.” He nocks the arrow and aims. “I overheard you and Akilah that night on the longboat. She said all your books had been burned. You did a good deed, saving a man; I wanted to give you access to books that couldn’t be taken away.” He jerks his head in dismissal. “Off you go.”

I reach under my cloak, to where I hooked the pearl mask, and sit it on his knees. He glances at it and lowers his bow.

“Why do you have one of my mother’s masks?”

“This one is my favourite; it matches the soldad. Wear it on Sunday.”

“There you go again, tellingmewhat to do.” He pauses. “What do you mean, wear it on Sunday?”

“Nicostratus will explain as soon as you’re back.”

“Why don’tyoutell me now?”

“You and he have the unconditional love between siblings, so I’ll leave it to him.”

Quin frowns curiously at me over the mask.

I flash him a grin. “I’ll go now.”

“A moment.”

I wait as his gaze rises and falls down my front.

“Is that a lemon tucked into your sash?”

I leap to my feet and scurry backwards. “It’s absolutely not from the conservatory.”

Quin shakes his head, laughing, and raises his bow. He aims at me while I skedaddle.

“Haven’t you learned your lesson?”

* * *

At six o’clock the following morning I meet Chiron in the apothecary, as promised, to announce my decision. He’s sipping tea over screeds of parchment on his desk. He doesn’t look up until I’ve been standing there for several moments.

He squints at me and strokes the stray scruff he’s been cultivating on his chin. “Will you drop out?”

“I won’t. I want to try.”

“High expectations only lead to disappointment.”

“Not trying is the bitterest of all failures.”

“I was told you’d be stubborn.” He shakes his head. “If you have indeed decided to stay...” He points upwards, to the gallery and that shadow-shrouded archway. The Crucible, Mikros had once told him. A place of punishment. He holds up the parchment he was reading. “The request came late last night.”

I squeeze the lemon I slung into a pouch at my belt.You’d better taste divine.

“Is there any room for negotiation?” I glance towards the archway and back to Chiron. “I heard the last scholar needed a hundred days.”

“With a foundation far superior to yours.”

A scuffle comes from the doorway and Makarios and Mikros fall into the classroom. Florentius follows behind them in an elegant sweep of sparkly white robes.

Chiron lifts a brow.

“We wanted to hear his decision,” Makarios says, picking himself off the floor and helping Mikros up. They face Chiron and incline their heads respectfully. “Please don’t send him to the Crucible. He’ll be stuck there forever.” Makarios looks over Mikros’s head at me with a smirk. “No offense.”