Chapter 49 – Pursuit

That weekend, she worked on a spellrod. She’d still need to get wands ready for her combat class, but that could wait. She needed the flexibility and durability of a spellrod; it was far easier to incorporate spell enhancements into the glyph pathways. More, it would be necessary for some of the conversations she was planning on having if she succeeded.

Big if. So much could go wrong.

As she was using the lathe, Mirian caught a glimpse of Valen peering around a corner. That could be a spark in a grain silo, she thought. Or maybe a fireball. She wasn’t sure what to do to get her to stop following her, though. Insults were about as good as invitations, and seemed to serve the same purpose. She adjusted the force shields around the lathe and got back to work.

By noon on Seventhday, Mirian had attracted attention of several of the workers who ran the crafting stations, most notably, Ingrid, who had an expertise with just about every machine and tool and a good eye for technique. “Who taught you your craft?” she asked.

Well, I had your help was the honest answer, since Ingrid had offered plenty of tips and sessions for her in several of the previous cycles. “My mom was a shop steward,” she said, which was at least adjacent to the truth.
“It’s fine work. I could show you some pointers,” she said, which tended to be how the conversations with her always started.

There was no point making excuses. The professors had to register projects that might use the crafting center with Ingrid directly, so she knew about every assignment, and had a nose for any bullshit story Mirian might try to tell. She just said, “I’ll definitely take you up on that later, thanks.”

That wasn’t how Ingrid, who had a reputation among the wizards for her incredible precision work, was usually talked to, and Mirian could sense her furrowed eyebrows even if she couldn’t see them. “Very well,” she said, but Mirian knew she would now be under Ingrid’s scrutiny every time she came by. Which wasn’t bad, it was just she was on a deadline. Professor Jei was scheduled to die tomorrow.

***

Firstday, Mirian ran into a tripwire she’d inadvertently set in front of herself. She was ready to pursue Jei as soon as the proctors took over. She had her spellrod sequestered in an inner pocket she’d sewn into her uniform coat and the wooden block she’d taken from the scrap pile all ready to go, and then Song Jei simply continued proctoring the exam.

Either the death of the first spy or the capture of the second spy had done it. She vaguely recalled one of the cycles, Jei had also stayed to watch over the whole exam, but she didn’t know why at the time. She didn’t know why now, either, but she had a hunch. When did Torres get me? Thirdday, right? Shit, that’s too long a timeframe. Now wasn’t the time, though. If Jei was going to live, she needed to prepare for it, and that meant performing well enough on the exam that her success was difficult to explain. On the second half of the exam, she wrote her professor a note, saying ‘Exactly half the information is missing.’ It was simple enough, but it showed she understood the problem in a way she doubted the other students did. Of course, they haven’t had to suffer through the damned exam thirteen times.

She handed in her exam early, then went outside to think. She tried to replay the various cycles and timelines of events. The disappearance had to happen with enough time that the registrar’s office found out about it. She usually disappeared during the exam, in Bainrose. The spies loved Bainrose Castle for some reason. Maybe the ambush she was hypothesizing just happened slightly later? It was worth a shot.

Or maybe there’s more passages. Jei doesn’t take the passage in Griffin Hall because the whole class is watching. But she would know about the ones going from Bainrose to the underground too. What if there’s more than one passage down to those giant doors of stone?

Mirian stood. She couldn’t track Jei down in the underground. She still didn’t know all the passages down there, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to move silently enough that her professor wouldn’t realize someone was behind her. Maybe if she had five more years to practice illusion spells she could maintain a silence zone and light distortion barrier well enough, but she thought she’d probably go insane if she had to spend five more years taking classes in the Academy.

She dashed back inside Griffin Hall. The last students were just handing in their exams. “Professor,” she said, smiling. She’d seen Jei actually eying the place where the secret door was. “I just wanted to thank you for teaching us. Your class has been my favorite.”

“Thank you,” said Jei in that thick accent of hers. “You are smart student. I can tell because you ask questions. You will take my class next quarter.”

“Artifice Design,” Mirian said. “Right? Of course I will. I can’t wait!” She then stood there. Professor Jei clearly expected her to leave, but she needed to make sure she left out the front door. “Uh, I had a question about the exam.”

Jei rolled her eyes. “Scale score. No crying,” she said again.

“Not that. I mean the second part. Was I… I mean, I know you haven’t looked at the exams yet, but was I right about the second section? That there’s not enough information to actually come up with a pathway solution? You would need another set of four dimensional coordinates, or the energy doesn’t create a circuit. Right?”

That got Jei’s attention. Her head snapped up and she looked at Mirian like she was trying to bore holes into her. “Interesting idea. Why do you think so?”

Mirian started to explain it, as best she could. She talked about the four dimensional paths she’d sketched to try and better visualize it, and the energy transformation equations needing to be balanced, though she was only able to muddle through it. She’d thought a lot about it, but she’d never tried to tell anyone else. One time, she’d tried to explain her second year of calculus to Lily, and Lily had looked at her like she’d turned into a chimera and grown a second head. Trying to explain this math to her friend might have caused an intracranial hemorrhage.

When Jei started walking out the front door, Mirian had to stop herself from shouting for joy. It had worked!

Midway across the plaza, Jei’s impatience was starting to become apparent. Finally, she interrupted Mirian. “We will talk again soon. Now, I have appointment.” Then she said what probably meant ‘goodbye’ in Gulwenen, but to Mirian it was just a blur of pitched syllables.

“Thanks, professor. Good luck!” she said, and headed off as if she was going to her dorm. As she neared the fountain in the plaza, she paused. This time, Bertrus was in his usual spot, not in front of Bainrose like he usually was at this hour. From the way he was watching Professor Jei, though, Mirian was pretty sure he knew something. Or maybe not. There weren’t a lot of Zhighuans in Torrviol, so she did attract stares.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Mirian moved so that the plaza fountain was between her and the guard and felt for her spellrod beneath her jacket. Wrapping her hand around the handle, she felt for the arcane catalyst. She’d set it to minor disguise already, and cast it now. It wouldn’t do to get Bertrus suspicious of her now; she still wasn’t sure whose side he was on. A few people gave her odd glances as her hair changed to blond, but she’d gotten used to that sort of thing. She set off quickly toward the castle, trying to find a balance between ‘quick enough to catch up to Jei’ and ‘not so quick it would be weird.’

As she entered Bainrose, she realized that Jei had already quickened her own pace. Probably late to the meeting that would end in her death. She hurried to catch up, accidentally knocking a book out of a first year student’s hand as she sped by. “Sorry,” she called, but didn’t slow down—couldn’t slow down now. When she got to the tower’s spiral staircase, she rushed up the stairs, taking them two at a time, nearly colliding with another student.