Page 68 of A Tower of Half-Truths

Forty

The moment they returned home, Alain made a direct path for the storage room.

He opened crates and rummaged through their contents, muttering to himself while Mavery watched on from the doorway.

Though Alain had managed to speak to her on the trip home, he’d quickly returned to his thoughts.

Whatever plan he’d hatched in silence, he was now putting it into motion.

Not only had the High Council’s verdict derailed his plan to resign from the University, their other plans for the evening now seemed postponed indefinitely.

Having her work scholastically shat upon certainly hadn’t left Mavery in a celebratory mood.

A long, hard nap was the only bedroom activity that interested her at this particular moment.

“No, not here,” Alain grumbled. “Where are those blasted things?”

“What are you looking for?”

“My old journals. I moved them here ages ago, but I forgot exactly where I—aha! Here they are!”

He brought a stack of journals into the main room, dumped them on his desk, and lowered himself into his chair. Without another word, he began to read.

Mavery took one of the journals—the same one he’d shown her during the first week of her assistantship.

When Alain didn’t protest, she turned to the final entry, and her blood chilled upon seeing a name that had become hauntingly familiar.

She now understood why Alain had prevented her from reading this before.

Siddisday, 20 Pluviose, 1040

At long last, Conor discovered the breakthrough we needed!

He came across a letter written by Aganast, acting as the head of the Order of Asphodel.

Beneath his signature was an odd symbol that matches the one depicted on the Innominate Temple’s pediment.

I will reproduce it here. This could be proof that the temple is connected to Aganast, the Order, or both.

I’m already fast at work planning a research trip for this summer.

Before we conduct an on-site investigation, we should start with interviews across Dyerland Province.

Local villagers may have information that cannot be found in the University’s library.

I plan to meet with Kazamin on Onisday to discuss fund

I must cut this entry short, for Conor is insisting we go out for a pint. And now he is standing over my shoulder while I write, as he so often enjoys doing. Yes, my darling, I agree that a discovery like this is cause for celebrations!

She tried to avoid thinking of how their “celebrations” had ended, and instead focused on the symbol Alain had sketched in the margin. From a distance, it appeared to be a six-pointed star. She looked closer and noticed how those points were thin and slightly rounded—an asphodel flower.

She closed the notebook and returned it to the stack. Alain was still absorbed in his reading. She glanced over his shoulder, and the word “temple” stuck out to her like a beacon.

“Alain, what are you planning?” she asked cautiously.

“With a single field experiment, I can kill two birds with one stone: prove to the High Council that I’m still capable of more than ‘parlor tricks,’ and prove that our spell is viable. So viable, in fact, it can help with something no scholar has ever accomplished.”

“I take it you’re not planning to pop over to the courthouse.”

He shook his head. “Were these normal circumstances, I would see no problem with that plan. But I need to give the High Council something far more impressive. I need to—”

“Crack the Innominate Temple.”

He closed his notebook and turned to her. “Yes.”

“But they’ve only given you a week for this field experiment.”

“Which is all the more reason why I need to act quickly.”

“Alain—”

“The fact of the matter is, it’s too late for me to begin a new project from scratch, so I’ve no choice but to pick up an old one, and I’ve made more headway on the temple than anything else.”

“But why go to these lengths to prove yourself to the High Council?”

“You don’t understand—”

“I think you’ll find I’m plenty capable of understanding,” she said, crossing her arms.

He hung his head. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

He pushed back his chair, rose to his feet, grasped her by the shoulders.

As his fingers trailed down her arms, she unfolded them and allowed him to take her hands.

In his eyes, Mavery couldn’t glimpse the spark of rapid-fire inspiration.

Rather, his thoughts seemed more akin to water circling a drain.

“For my entire life—before I was a wizard, or even an assistant—there have been lofty expectations placed upon me. Expectations that few others are subjected to. Trust me when I say, if there were another option, I would seize it in a heartbeat. But I know that I failed Seringoth today, and only through extreme measures will I regain his favor. Besides…” He sighed.

“I can’t help but feel as though everything has been leading to this.

I have an obligation to finish what I started, for Conor’s sake. ”

“Whatever you do, don’t do this for him,” Mavery said as her stomach twisted into knots. “Don’t do this for the person who—”

“I know what he did, but even that didn’t warrant a death sentence. If I complete my research, then at least his death won’t have been in vain. I owe him that much—”

“You don’t owe him a godsdamned thing!”

“That’s not for you to decide!” Alain snapped.

Mavery recoiled, releasing his hands. For a moment, she simply blinked at him, unable to voice a response. His hands clenched and unclenched into fists as he gazed downward.

“I’m…I’m sorry.” His voice was quiet, strained. “I know cracking the temple won’t bring him back, it won’t change the past. But I must try to finish what I started. If not for him, then for myself.”

Mavery sighed. “Fine. When are we going?”

He looked up. “We are not going anywhere. This is something I must do alone.”

“Like hells you will! You’ve never even been to the temple.”

“Neither have you.”

“I’ve gotten close enough to know that going it alone would be suicide. The temple is the least of your worries. Can you handle yourself against wild demonspawn, highwaymen, navigating the real wilderness? This won’t be a cozy little hike outside the city walls.”

“I know, and that’s precisely why you shouldn’t come with me.”

“No, that’s precisely why I should come with you.”

“But you’re…” He raked his fingers through his hair as his gaze darted between Mavery’s face and the far corners of the room. It finally settled on the kitchen door. “I need…something…help me think.”

He turned and headed to the kitchen. Mavery began to follow him, but a full day in her new dress boots had done a number on her feet.

A single step was all she could manage before unlacing the boots and tossing them aside.

Hiking up her skirt and ignoring the ache from her fresh blisters, she hurried toward the clatter coming from the kitchen.

“I swear,” she muttered, “if you’ve maimed yourself on another cup…”

When she entered the kitchen, he was rifling through his collection of tea tins as though his life depended on choosing the right one. Mavery heaved a sigh that was tinged with both frustration and relief. She came to his side, lowered his hands, and took them in hers.

“Talk to me,” she said. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

He uttered a single nervous laugh. “I’m afraid that would take all night.”

“Then we’ll stay up all night if need be.”

He smiled, though his eyes were misty. “Even when I’m an utter mess, even when I plan to barrel straight toward uncertain death, you refuse to leave my side.” His left hand slipped from her grasp and traveled upward to rest against her cheek. “What did I do to deserve someone like you?”

His fingertips traced the scar across her nose, trailed down her other cheek, brushed her lower lip. She leaned into his touch, eager to feel his mouth against hers, but she could tell there was more he wanted—needed—to say. His dark eyes were filled with enough adoration to render her breathless.

“I keep thinking back to my accident…how you revived me.” He leaned forward, rested his forehead against hers.

“Ever since that night, you’ve brought me back to life in countless ways.

I love you, Mavery. You’ve become so precious to me.

So much so, I can’t let you join me on this trip, not when there’s such great risk involved.

How could I, when I can’t bear the thought of losing you? ”

“And what if I lost you? If you died out there alone, whether at the temple or on the road to it, what would I be left with?” She cupped his face between both hands. “I love you, too, but I want to love more than the memory of you.”

He leaned back slightly as his eyes widened. “I…hadn’t considered…”

“Of course you hadn’t.” Smiling, she shook her head. “Somehow, you’re both the most intelligent and the most foolish person I’ve ever known. And yet, I wouldn’t change you at all.”

At last, he pulled her in, bridging the space between them.

His lips were firm and unyielding against hers, as if he sought to pour every emotion into a single kiss.

She skimmed her fingers through his hair, prompting a tremor that forced his body to relax slightly, his lips to part.

As their kiss slowed to an indolent caress, he wrapped his arms around her, clung to her long after their lips broke apart.

She didn’t love the prospect of going back to the Innominate Temple, and she loved the reasons for this excursion even less. But she loved him, and she would remain by his side; she had no intention of breaking that promise.

“Now,” she whispered, “will you stop being a martyr for one godsdamned minute and let your assistant assist you?”

He nodded, then released her. His face was flushed, his eyes bloodshot. He rubbed the latter with the heels of his palms.

“What do you suggest?” he asked.

“First of all, how long will it take us to get to the temple?”

“Two days to get to one of the nearby villages. Then, it’s a matter of tracking down the temple. The magical protections make it impossible to pinpoint its exact coordinates.”

Mavery nodded, recalling how Selemin had once told her the same. “What kind of magic do you think is behind that?”

“It’s likely an obfuscation ward—an exceptionally powerful one, at that. Our spell won’t denote them by color, but I doubt that would make much difference; obfuscation wards are far from my area of expertise.”

“Then I suggest we find an expert. Who at the University specializes in those wards?”

Alain laughed. “Someone who just so happens to owe me a favor.”