A Wind From the Rift by Bonnie Wynne

Author:Bonnie Wynne [Wynne, Bonnie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780648534273
Publisher: Talem Press
Published: 2020-11-07T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Chained Lightning

Gwyn was up early the next morning. Lucian, in his hawk form, left at first light to scout the surroundings and see what information he could glean. So Gwyn was alone as she dressed for the day, brushed and plaited her hair, and scrubbed her teeth with a boar-bristle brush.

The Inquisition catches all the abominations, sooner or later, she thought, staring at herself in the glass. Was Marius just trying to rile her? Or did he know something she didn’t? Why hadn’t Castlemaine chased her last night?

She could think of a few possibilities. Castlemaine had always seemed to hate her – not as an Inquisitor might hate any heretic, but in a way that felt intimate, personal. But perhaps that was her own ego talking. Perhaps a student out of bounds on a festival night simply wasn’t worth Castlemaine’s attention.

Another possibility: that Castlemaine had secrets of his own. Why had he been leaving the City so late at night, with no baggage, no entourage? Why the secrecy? What if the simple truth was that Castlemaine couldn’t sell her out to Cranston without revealing his own movements?

And there was another option. Terrifying, but one she had to consider.

What if Castlemaine isn’t Castlemaine at all?

When a knock came at the door, she almost jumped out of her skin. This was it, then; the guards were here to drag her to Cranston’s office. It would be better to go willingly, but even so, her hand kept twitching for a knife that wasn’t there.

When she opened the door, though, it wasn’t a guard who stood there. It was Mancer Estienne, who had given her the bag of coins. He was carrying a leather satchel, and looked as sleepy and bored as ever. He brushed by her and settled himself in the chair. Heart pounding, Gwyn closed the door behind him.

‘You’re to be Tested next month,’ he said without preamble. ‘Tenth day of Brightmane. Mancer Cranston just informed me. You have a lot of work to do before then.’

Gwyn realised her mouth was hanging open, and snapped it shut. Tested. The process for a neophyte to ascend to adept status was shrouded in mystery. Not even Tavi seemed to know what was involved, except that it was dangerous and potentially fatal. If they were talking about Testing her, did that mean she wasn’t going to be whipped?

‘Let’s start with your spell forms,’ Estienne said. He was examining his nails, and didn’t bother to look up at her.

Gwyn straightened and cleared her throat with a sense of vague unreality. ‘Scinder, juber, jaer, pender, sather, yander. Sekosh, vitosh, volosh, qondosh, holosh, nozosh. Ulaz, hagalaz … No. Ulaz, perlaz …’

She ran through the twenty-four signs for a full half hour before Estienne was satisfied, backwards and forwards and backwards again. After that it was time for practical work. She sketched the signs on a piece of parchment, and when she was done, Estienne knocked on the door. When the guard opened it, Estienne gestured at Gwyn to follow him.

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