Page 36 of A Tower of Half-Truths

“I wish you had. You’re lucky I don’t have a debilitating fear of needles.”

“Further proof that I picked the right person for the job.”

He smiled weakly, and she averted her eyes as shame washed over her.

“So, er, what happened?” she asked.

“I awoke feeling so well-rested, I thought I’d get an early start on peer review. That way, we could focus on more important matters: the Sensing spell and your Etherean lessons.” He looked at the orb of Ether floating overhead. “Speaking of, I see you remembered the incantation. Excellent work!”

Any other time, she would have welcomed his praise. Instead, she frowned at him.

“You told me it was too dangerous to peer review spells by yourself.”

“But I wasn’t by myself. You were here…technically speaking.”

“Technically speaking, I was asleep!”

“And when did you wake up?”

“When I heard you collapse.”

“See? Everything worked out. No harm done.”

“ ‘No harm done’?” She blinked at him. “Alain, you fucking died!”

He winced. “I’ll admit, that was a poor choice of words.”

She fought an overwhelming urge to throw herself at him again—and shake him. Her frustration must have been written plainly on her face. Alain placed his hand on her shoulder.

“It was a stupid mistake,” he said. “I was reviewing a simple voice-based augmentation developed by an, at most, entry-level wizard. Somehow, I managed to botch the incantation, which caused me to suffocate.” He sighed and shook his head.

“I used a guttural ‘r’ when I should have rolled the ‘r.’ Must have been my mother’s influence popping up at the most inconvenient of times. ”

He chuckled, but even that seemed to be too strenuous.

With a pained expression, he gingerly touched his chest. His shirt remained unbuttoned, and a bruise had begun to darken the spot where his breastbone had collided with the tea table.

Mavery caught another glimpse of his long scar and thought of a coroner slicing open a cadaver.

“You’re being awfully casual about this,” she said. He looked down, biting his lip, and that was enough to confirm her suspicions. “How many times has this happened?”

When he didn’t answer, she took him by the jaw, gently turned his face until he looked at her again.

“How many times have you been resurrected?” she asked, enunciating each word.

“Er…only once before.”

Not even the most gullible idiot would fall for that. She narrowed her eyes and tightened her grip.

“Twice?”

“Alain, tell me the truth.”

He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. “Twelve. Counting tonight, I’ve now been resurrected twelve times.”

For a brief moment, all she could do was gawk at him. Then, she scowled as she released his jaw and gave his arm a swift punch.

“Ouch!”

“Twelve? Twelve!?” Her frown deepened at the sheepish look he gave her. “You ass! Keeping your protocol a secret was one thing, but you could have at least told me you’d been through this before!”

“In all fairness, I did say I’d been through it before.”

“I’d assumed you meant as the one doing the resurrecting, not the one being resurrected—and definitely not eleven fucking times before tonight!”

As she formed a fist again, arcana ignited her blood. But seeing him wince tempered her rage, and she settled on continuing to glower at him. He must have noticed her gaze linger on his scar again; he began buttoning up his shirt.

“My record pales in comparison to those of the Elder Wizards,” he said. “Collectively, the High Council has died hundreds of deaths. Seringoth alone has died over fifty times, and one of his resurrections was performed by yours truly.”

If cheering her up had been his intention, he’d failed miserably.

Her stomach clenched just thinking of how many times Alain had been stabbed with that needle—or had undergone whatever gruesome procedure a Resurrectionist performed.

His scars were permanent reminders of his many close calls, though knowing they had that in common gave her little comfort at this precise moment.

“Seringoth may have died fifty times, but he’s ancient,” she said. “You’re only thirty-four. A dozen resurrections at your age can’t be… That can’t be normal, can it?”

“If it helps you feel any better, it had been over two years since my last. I might have been imprudent tonight, but this is nothing compared to how I used to be. I once had four resurrections in a single year.”

She frowned. “I can’t say any of that helps me feel better.”

“Well, regardless of how many times I’ve been through it, thank you for bringing me back.”

He placed his hand on her shoulder again as he gave her a look she recognized all too well.

She’d often been on the receiving end of it after several pints of ale, a particularly thrilling score, or a closer-than-expected brush with death.

If recent events didn’t count as the latter, she didn’t know what would.

A small part of her wouldn’t have minded that look—and everything that would follow it—had guilt not been clawing at her insides.

“Don’t thank me,” she said. “There’s something I need to tell you—something I should have told you ages ago.”

For a moment, she struggled to find the words.

She could only stare at her lap. Alain’s hand released her shoulder, skimmed down her arm.

His fingertips brushed the back of her hand, then hesitated.

Her eyes met the soft gaze that, as he’d lain lifelessly on the floor, she’d longed to see again.

But now it made her stomach twist into knots, her throat tighten.

“If this is about your lack of education,” he said softly, “you have nothing to be ashamed of. As I already told you, I don’t care about any of that. What you did just now only confirms that you’re worthy of being my assistant.”

“It’s not about that. And no, I’m not worthy.” Her hands clenched into fists. No matter what happened next, he deserved the truth. “When I arrived at your door nearly six weeks ago, my aim wasn’t to become your assistant, but to rob you.”

She continued to gaze downward; she couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye.

“R-rob me?” He laughed weakly. “You’re joking…er, aren’t you?”

She shook her head. “Over the years, I’ve been a little of everything: wardbreaker, mage for hire, con artist. I even worked for the Brass Dragons for a time.

Before I came to Leyport, I was running with an independent thieving crew.

Let’s just say we parted ways on less-than-favorable terms, and I needed an easy score.

“That’s when I came across your ad—your mother’s, I mean—and thought a wizard mad enough to put his address in the newspaper would be the perfect mark.

My plan was to impress you with my Sensing abilities and earn your trust. When the time was right, I would rob you of your valuables and skip town.

” She shrugged. “But, for what little it’s worth, I changed my mind. ”

“So, you came here of your own accord?” Alain asked.

She nodded.

“Nezima didn’t hire you?”

“Nezima?” She looked up, blinked at him. “What does she have to do with—”

Mavery startled as Alain began to laugh. It wasn’t a soft chuckle like before; he threw his head back as tears beaded in the corners of his eyes. All she could do was stare incredulously as his laughter gave way to another bout of wheezing.

“Alain, what—”

He gasped for breath as he clutched his chest. “Gods, that’s a relief! Well, not the fact that you came here to rob me, but I was worried you were working for a disgruntled colleague. I even thought they’d hired an assassin to do me in—and that’s but one of the harebrained ideas I’d concocted.”

She laughed nervously, unsure if he was only saying this to ease the tension. As Alain recovered his breath, the clock continued to tick. She couldn’t help but think of it as the death knell for their partnership, for whatever else existed between them.

Alain shook his head. “I knew I was right when I told my mother those newspaper ads were a terrible idea. But I was worried about my academic reputation when I should have been worried about would-be thieves. This building could have been infested with them, but I only ever attracted the one. I suppose I should consider myself lucky.”

He nudged her shoulder. His smile faltered when she failed to react.

“So, what made you change your mind?” he asked.

“I…” She looked at him. “I decided you were worth more to me than any potential score.”

All this time, she’d expected him to raise his voice, to demand she leave and never return.

A tiny part of her wondered if he would turn to his arsenal of spells; even the most unassuming types could be provoked into rage.

The last thing she’d expected was for him to lean forward and embrace her.

Her eyes widened, her entire body clenched.

Surely this had to be some sort of trick.

“I just confessed to being a career criminal! I was even a Brass Dragon once.”

He pulled back, hands still grasping her shoulders. “But you’re not one presently?”

“No, I severed those ties years ago.”

“Then I fail to see the problem.”

“But you said you couldn’t associate with a criminal.”

He furrowed his brow, then realization crossed his face.

“Oh, you’re referring to what I said about Enid.

Well, that’s different. She’s just my…and you’re…

” He sighed. “You might have lied about why you came here, but what of everything since? Everything you’ve done as my assistant, as my friend, was that also a—”

“No. All of it was real.” She held his gaze, searching for a sign that he believed her. “And I want to continue being both, if you’ll still have me after all this.”

“Then how about we forget about the past and start anew?” He removed his right hand from her shoulder and held it in front of her. “Hello, I’m Alain Tesseraunt.”

She choked out a laugh as she blinked away tears. “Hello, Alain. I’m Mavery Culwich.”

They shook hands.

“A pleasure to meet you, Mavery. Would you do me the honor of being my assistant?”

She smiled. “Yes, I would.”

“Wonderful. As your wizard, I promise to not be reckless with my spellcraft.”

“And as your assistant, I promise to not rob you.”

“Then I say we have a deal.”

When he embraced her this time, she allowed herself to relax into him, to let her head nestle against the crook of his neck, to let him stroke her hair as the last of her tears fell upon his shoulder.

Her confession hadn’t dispelled her guilt entirely.

But it was enough for her to savor being held like this.

It was enough for her to believe that, when the sun rose in a few hours’ time, a new day would break, and the two of them would continue on as before.

Only now, there would be fewer secrets between them.