Page 42 of A Tower of Half-Truths

Neldren had always told Mavery that, despite the prominent scar across her nose, she had a face more suitable for sweet-talking than intimidation.

But from how Wren cowered under her hard stare, she was currently having no problem with the latter.

Mavery sighed. Wren was a young scholar, not some tight-lipped thug who needed to be berated into submission. She unfolded her arms.

“Wren,” she said with as much gentleness as she could muster, “I won’t tell him anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Wren slowly uncoiled. Her hands continued to tremble, but she was able to meet Mavery’s eye again.

“Sorry, it’s just difficult to talk about.” She leaned forward and, though there was no one within earshot, lowered her voice. “What has he told you about the Innominate Temple?”

“Not much, as he seems to have given up on it.”

“Really?” Wren pressed a hand to her heart as her body relaxed.

“Oh, that’s the best thing I’ve heard all day!

When I first started working for him, I thought the temple was just a little passion project of his, nothing he was ever serious about.

That was until a year ago, when he made a research breakthrough that drove him absolutely mad. ”

Mavery frowned. “How so?”

“Two days later, he sent me and his other two assistants to the temple. Said we needed to ‘strike while the iron was hot.’ ”

Mavery’s stomach lurched. When Declan had told her that Alain’s assistant had died on a research trip, he hadn’t specified where. Surely Wren wasn’t talking about the same trip.

“Don’t tell me he actually sent you to the Innominate Temple.”

Wren nodded.

“And the three of you went alone?”

When she nodded again, Mavery’s head reeled.

Between the hike through miles of wilderness, the overwhelming arcana, and the lethal traps that she herself had still never seen, the Innominate Temple was not a place someone visited on a whim.

It was certainly not a place for someone like Wren, whom Mavery doubted had much experience investigating dangerous ruins.

She would bet the same had been true of the other two assistants.

“What happened?” Mavery asked, though she already knew some of the answer and dreaded learning the rest.

Wren took a deep breath. “It wasn’t easy. First, we wandered in circles for half a day. Just as we were about to give up, we found the godsforsaken place. It was awful. The magic was…was…”

“Strong enough to make you ill.”

“Exactly.” Her brown eyes widened. “Er, how did you know?”

“I’ve been there. Well, I’ve gotten close enough. But never mind that. What happened next?”

“We tried getting closer, then Conor triggered some hidden trap—a detonation ward, I think—and it killed him. It’s awful enough that someone died, but the fact that it was Conor was even worse.

He’d only been on our team for a few weeks, and gods, was he handsome. He had the most unusual eyes, and he—”

“Unusual in what way?” Mavery asked.

“Mismatched. His left eye was brown, his right was blue—or was it the other way around? Have you ever seen anyone with eyes like that?”

“No, can’t say that I have.”

Not in person, at any rate…

Wren blushed. “Anyway, Lorcan carried Conor back to the closest village. He got so shaken up over the whole ordeal, he resigned and left the wizarding community altogether. Last I heard, he’d moved to Durnatel and became a wardsmith for some bank.”

“And then you resigned.”

She nodded. “I didn’t want to, not at first. But things weren’t the same after that trip. Aventus became even more obsessed with the temple. He was so wrapped up in his research, he stopped leaving his apartment. I had to ask Professor Ward to help me with exams.

“Things only got worse after Dean Kazamin put Aventus on sabbatical. He’d go days without eating, without even getting out of bed. And then the drinking.” She shook her head. “I hate that I resigned in the middle of all that, but… But being someone’s caretaker wasn’t what I’d signed up for.”

Mavery recalled the state of Alain’s apartment—and Alain himself—on the day they first met. To learn that he’d been living that way for months left an ache deep in her chest.

“Lucky for me,” Wren continued, “Nezima was looking for another assistant and hired me on the spot.”

Mavery snorted. Being used as a human satchel seemed the opposite of luck.

Wren shrugged. “I know taking that job was a bit of a setback. I graduated five years ago—at this point in my career, I ought to be assisting an independent wizard, not one still tied to the University. But I’ll take grading term papers over being a caretaker any day, though I do sometimes miss getting paid—”

“Nezima doesn’t pay you?”

“Wizards aren’t required to pay their assistants; Aventus is one of the few that does.” She furrowed her brow. “Didn’t he review the Covenants with you?”

“I must’ve forgotten about that one. But if she isn’t paying you, how do you get by?”

“I’m a Wincoff,” Wren said, and Mavery resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

Of course, someone connected to railroad barons wouldn’t be concerned with something as arbitrary as money.

“Speaking of Nezima, she runs a club for the women on campus—wizards and assistants alike. We meet every Middisday evening at a pub called the Lettered Gentleman.”

Mavery raised her eyebrows.

Wren laughed. “She chose it primarily for the convenience, partly for the irony. You should join us! Come talk about your research, vent your frustrations, have a drink on Nezima; she always pays for everything.”

Now that Mavery planned to stay in Leyport, it would be wise to make some connections in the wizarding community. Perhaps more friends, if she could manage it. At the very least, she could learn more about the enigmatic Nezima—for starters, why Alain disliked her so much.

“Thanks, Wren.”

“Until then, take care of yourself, Mavery,” Wren said cheerfully, but then her expression darkened. “And if Aventus ever brings up the Innominate Temple again, do yourself a favor and find any other wizard to work for.”

Mavery frowned. “I’m not going to abandon Alain for ‘any other wizard.’ ” Her frown deepened as Wren’s eyes widened. “What?”

Wren flinched. Mavery’s tone had apparently been more forceful than she’d intended.

“Nothing. Only, we worked together for three years and got along well enough, I suppose, but I never used his real name. Conor did, though. Strange…”

“What’s strange?” Mavery demanded, but her question would remain unanswered. The clock tower atop the Great Hall chimed, announcing that it was four o’clock.

“I need to go,” Wren said. “I hope you’ll join us on Middisday. Remember: the Lettered Gentleman after final classes let out!”

With a smile and a wave, she bounded across the quad and into the library. Though Mavery hadn’t learned much about Sensing today, she now had plenty more to think about.