Declan leaned against the window while Chen stubbornly pulled at the front door. “That won’t work, I ordered the mana locks to keep you out. Go to the library, Chen. Study for your Enchantment class. Bring me a signed note from the head librarian that you weren’t sleeping and I’ll let you back in.”

  “I can’t study!” Chen shouted. “That’s why I keep failing.”

  A crowd had begun to gather behind Declan as he spoke. “You can study and you will, because eventually there’s going to come a swarm. You might be able to sleep outside for a few hours, but you really want to risk that? Let’s start easy. Two hours. Two hours, send me a note and I’ll let you back in. And tomorrow, and every day after that? Same deal.”

  “You’re going to get me killed!” Chen pounded on the door.

  “I’m going to make you pass.” Declan turned and waved to the crowd. “Don’t let him in. The mana locks will work for him and I can’t make him study but I can make him sit, awake in the library. Anyone else need some tough love?”

  Oddly, no one did.

  That left Declan in peace to practice soul-casting. He’d grown more comfortable with Gather and though it didn’t feel like his focus was improving, Fana Brieze had nothing to gain from misleading him. She wouldn’t be paid for another private lesson if he didn’t progress.

  It felt like moments before Eden knocked on his door. “Let’s go, I don’t want you to be late. Also, Skinner came by and yelled at me before he left. That’s how I know where to take you. He said things like ‘This wouldn’t be a problem if people weren’t idiots.’”

  Their destination wasn’t a classroom, it was a two-story shop four rings out, where the owner met Eden at the door and gave her a hug and exchanged the kinds of pleasantries Declan understood, the kind workmen offered to let them do their job.

  Then she turned on him. “Declan. The Foundrytown arcanist, Eden has told me all about you. Come in. House Arcanists hold a difficult position. It’s as much about perception as it is about ability and your perception is…tell me about a day as House Arcanist.”

  Declan did. New arrivals. Removing old ones. Assigning rooms, settling arguments, running errands for Skinner and blessed time to practice magic in between bartering for repairs, arguing with his house mates, and dealing with constant threats about what would happen if he didn’t evict someone or accept someone else.

  “These new arrivals, they must be terrified. The streets of the academy are only safe when escorted. My husband and I were attacked twice this morning.” She took them through to a back room, where the smell of machine oil and lavendar filled the air.

  Declan glanced about. “They’re usually terrified but sometimes settle down. Sometimes they want to fight for a few moments. A good split lip will fix that. Arcanists are deadly with spells but give one a good black eye and they fall in line.”

  “That!” Eden said. “That’s what I’m talking about. Declan, look at yourself. You’re terrifying. You don’t look like the polished House Arcanist who can handle anything, you look like a man who just wandered in from the slums and will stab someone for a gram of arcite.”

  She wasn’t wrong. Declan grew his black hair long, shaved when it itched, cut his own hair with his sword and had a habit of staring until people either got to the point or left. “Is that a problem?”

  “Yes!” She waved her arms all around. “You’re brute force but you have a brain. Oh, I know. Would you drive a screw in with a hammer? You wouldn’t. Threatening is not always the right approach. We’re going to make you able to choose. Sit. Do they have barber shops in Foundrytown?”

  “Foreman Scythe had a man who came through once a month,” Declan said, already uncomfortable. “Is this really going to help?”

  “You have nowhere to go but up.” Eden leaned against the counter as the woman set to work. “If it doesn’t, I’ll brew you a hair growing potion and you can look like a wild man again. Deal?”

  It was probably a deal.

  ###

  The winter air was cold on Declan’s neck, and his cheeks felt smooth and raw. The worst was how he didn’t recognize himself in the mirror. His ragged black locks had been cut and washed and trimmed and now he looked like an arcanist. Like he came from money, even if he didn’t have it. He thanked the woman even if he wasn’t certain and almost ran from the shop. “This feels like a waste of rin and minutes.”

  “You’re driven to learn the skills you want but you have others you need that will make your life and the lives of your house mates better. Like, dealing with threats. You know how many Drevond gets a week?” Eden asked as they walked the streets, shadowed by guards.

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  “None. You’re a monster house. No one would dare.”

  “Everyone would dare. But they don’t come to blows because we know the steps to the dance,” Eden said, directing them down different streets. “Two days ago you threatened to nail that Strom messenger’s hand to the porch.”

  “It was promise, not a threat,” Declan stated. “No one dies from a nail driven through their hand but they do learn not to threaten me in my own house.”

  Eden’s sigh was more detailed than many of Declan’s responses. “Or. Just imagine this with me for a moment, you know the protocols. You understand a real threat and one that’s made because a house can’t afford to look weak. You respond with the same way everyone else does. I don’t have to listen to someone scream about how their hand is nailed to the porch.”

  It had been a lot of work and even worse, he’d had to clean the porch afterwards. “How would you have handled that?”

  “That’s a long answer and we don’t have time tonight. Lots of different kinds of power, Declan. You want them all. Also, you might not need the company light. Before you had this ‘ragged wildman who’ll ravage you’ kind of energy. Now…damn. You’ll do just fine.”

  She stopped at the door to House Ariloch and waved as her personal Drevond guards arrived. “Hey, Chen. Enjoying the night air?”

  “You’re a bastard,” Chen snarled at Declan. “Here’s your note. Can I go in and get some sleep?”

  Declan willed it, and the mana locks activated. “I’ve got a blood-stone, so I’m not completely a bastard, but pretty close. Rest up, Chen. You’ve got a busy day ahead of you tomorrow.”

  ###

  Days crawled by as Declan made gradual progress on soul-casting and no progress on the mana stone. He could reliably soul-cast Combine if only because it was a triangle and the angles were easy. Gather was a work in progress and he felt the progress.

  Instructor Brieze had been right, the gradual growth of his focus translated to his binding efforts. The one-two-three sequence of directing focus had become an easy pattern his mind did. Speeding it up would almost always result in failure, but he was growing.

  His surprise class was something Declan dreaded, Etiquette, which wasn’t about how to stab food with a fork, but an introduction to the dark rites nobles expected each other to follow. And enduring that let him return to History which was less learning and more being entertained by Brutus.

  Except he was learning in spite of enjoying it. Today Brutus had brought books with him but began with an off-kilter question. “We’re going to do something special next week, that’s look at the history of the Thorn family. I’ll need some time to research, but it sure looks like your father’s family were from Rictor, fought in the Defiler war, the usual. And Rictor, you wouldn’t believe how the territory came to the Sun Queen’s control.”

  “The Sun Queen. Has she really reigned that long? Isn’t it just one succession of daughter after another?”

  “That’s a good theory and given that she grows old and then young again, not a bad one. Her face changes slightly, too, but there are powerful reasons to think it’s one person. It’s said she has a tier nine rune that is a limited form of immortality. You should attend her audiences.” Brutus paused. “You didn’t know? You’re an arcanist at Ariloch. Because Ventrus Ariloch married the Sun Queen, you’re all by definition the lowest form of court member possible. You could attend and you should.”

  “Why?” Declan asked. “And how?”

  “How is by glint. Once a month they activate the array to the capital, more often if you’re summoned like the legendary Keel Skinner. Get summoned and they’ll activate it for you. It’s a lot of rin but I’m being dead serious.” Brutus set down his coffee, proof he meant it. “You might gain more from sitting through one audience than a dozen classes and it’s in an area no one can teach you. She has a tier nine rune that manifests during her audience.”

  “Insight. It grows when exposed to powerful runes. I’ve asked Skinner and he says all of his are too destructive.” Declan made a mental note. “You really think it will help?”

  “If you look me in the eye and say it doesn’t, our next session is free. I take my rin very seriously. Now, much as I’d love to spill the dirt on Mazal and their farming network, we need to cover another noble house first. Taylor. Tell me what you know.”

  Declan was ready to dive in.

  ###

  The next day was his first Armory shift as an obligation. After kicking Chen out and ordering him to the library, Declan arrived at first class change and settled in at his desk. “Can I get a stack of runes?”

  For the first few hours it was all the same. The last minor swarm had produce so many crabs with Claw Declan could identify them just from feel. Each was labeled, credited to the arcanist who recovered it, then second-checked by another researcher.

  Except that Declan moved at a rate so fast the other researchers couldn’t keep up. They were required to gently empower a rune and write down their mana sense of it as it charged, then cross reference with volumes of information.

  Declan just knew.

  At lunch, Harris gave him a standing ovation for not looking like a barbarian and then grilled him on armory discounts (there weren’t any) to make sure House Harding was running it correctly. When Declan returned, Supervisor Gladson met him at his desk. Gladson looked like a man who would run an armory, powerfully built, with no neck and wide shoulders and clumsy fingers. “I have an army of researchers working on your morning shift. I think this afternoon it’s time to train you on something more dangerous. Insight is powerful but I don’t know if it will help here. What will help is training, safety equipment, and protocol.”

  Declan followed him through double mana-locked doors and down a narrow set of stairs, then back up into solid stone arched room that must have been mana shaped. Rune barriers blazed to life as Declan approached, shielding the slots behind them.

  “Dress here, I’ll check your kit and show you how to tie it correctly,” Gladson said. True to his word, he watched Declan don heavy leather smocks covered in enchantments, followed by thick gloves, goggles, and a breathing mask and ear muffs. “These are the corrupted runes. Eventually I’m going to teach you to remove the corruption using a forging station. Do this wrong and your body could become corrupted. Do it wrong and your arcsoul could be. Do it wrong and either you’ll be dead in short order or we’ll be forced to kill you. This is how Defilers get started, after all.”

  Declan knew fear. He considered it a useful tool. “What do I do?”

  “You start with a lesson that disregards everything I just said. Take off a glove, Mr. Thorn. It’s time you were corrupted.”