“Mm,” he said, having finally selected his muffin and taken a rather impressive first bite. Small tufts of white hair jutted out above his ears, though the rest of his pate was completely bald. “No one has asked to study under me in years. A decade, perhaps. I doubt your professors would give you any credit for it. They might oppose it altogether.”
He set a kettle on a stove Aurelie noticed was very similar to her own and felt another swell of affinity that brought tears to her eyes. Who would have thought that all this time, the person she’d been searching for was the school hermit? And what, exactly, did that say about Aurelie?
“We don’t have to tell anyone. I wouldn’t be doing it for credit. I’d simply like to glean any wisdom I can from you.”
He eyed her over his second muffin, still wearing those ridiculous glasses. “Wisdom, eh.”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out the sketch of the door. She’d brought it with her on a whim, really. She’d never actually expected to be able to share it. But this was her chance, possibly heronlyrealchance, to learn more about this project. If he told her it was impossible or too dangerous, she’d never speak to Everard again. But if not...
With a hope and a prayer and no small amount of fear, she thrust the paper toward him. “Here. I need to build this.”
After a long, silent moment, Professor Sheldrake took the paper from Aurelie and carried it over to an orb-shaped lamp, held aloft by a bronze cherub. “What’s this? You want tobuilda portal? Using arcane runes? Do you even know what it leads to?”
Aportal? Why did that word feel so much more ominous thandoor? “Erm, not exactly,” she said, her heart in her throat, half expecting him to ring for the guards.
He stared at her, clearly unimpressed.
Aurelie lifted her chin, hoping to portray more confidence than she felt. “It will help eradicate demons.”
After a heavy silence, he sighed. “Even if that’s true, this is highly illegal. Magic, as I’m sure you know, was outlawed under King Aciano along with inventing. Besides, these metal plates are so intricate that they would require a master’s skill. You’d need to enlist a blacksmith’s help, and they’d never do it. Far too risky for them.”
This was why she needed someone to bounce ideas off of! Imagine the time she could have saved herself in the past if she’d had Professor Sheldrake’s knowledge at her disposal. “What if someone else had already agreed to make the plates? I only need to assemble them, and of course etch the runes.”
“Mm.” Professor Sheldrake had moved on to his fourth muffin. “Still illegal, but you’re young. Possibly resourceful.” He set the basket of muffins on a table piled with books. “Those runes are atruly archaic form of Elder Vansion, so dated even I may not be able to help with the translation.”
“Is a translation necessary?”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “If you would even consider casting a spell you can’t read, then I’m sure I can be of no use to you as a mentor. One can’t teach common sense.”
Aurelie winced. “Of course. It was a foolish question. I will translate them faithfully.”
He grunted. “Very well. I’d ask you where these blueprints came from, but I’m fairly certain I don’t wish to know. And since everyone around here tells me that I’m as good as dead, I don’t suppose I’ll have to live with any adverse consequences for long. You may use the empty classroom in the basement. No one ever goes there. Mind you, it’s with good reason. It’s dark and damp and full of spiders.”
Aurelie hadn’t heard anything beyond the implied yes. She nodded eagerly. “Spiders. Right. I don’t mind spiders.” Not true, but Mephisto would clear those out in no time.
“Alastor is not for hire, so don’t get any ideas where he’s concerned. Your invention, your demon. If anyone asks if I was aware of your work, I’ll deny it to the grave.”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
Finally, he lowered the spectacles to the tip of his nose and sighed. In reality, his eyes were of perfectly average size. It was a wonder he didn’t get a headache wearing those glasses all the time. “What is the niece of Dean Blake, arguably the most provincial in the history of this esteemed institution, doing building an illegal invention.” It wasn’t a question, and Aurelie couldn’t have answered it even if it was. He studied her for a moment, the way he might a toad.
“This kingdom, for all its faults, has continued to function because the vast majority of its citizens are law-abiding, rule-following, tax-paying sheep. And thank the seven virtues for that, or we’d be overrun with demons. Until someone breaks the curse on this country of ours, we’re doomed to repeat history, year after year, decade after decade. We’re no better than these automatons,” he said, gesturing to the half-assembled humanoid. “I have no doubt that nothing will change in my lifetime. Likely yours either, if I’m being honest.”
Aurelie didn’t let herself think that way, and to hear it laid out so starkly by Professor Sheldrake made her feel smaller and more alone than ever. Then again, she was used to disappointment. She always managed to find a way to carry on.
“But,” he said, reaching for another muffin, “every now and then, a person comes along who refuses to follow the rules, who decides that the laws don’t apply to them, that some things are worth fighting for. We call them criminals,” he added flatly.
Aurelie could feel tears welling in her eyes, much to her mortification. “I—”
“I haven’t finished, young lady.” He replaced his glasses and blinked at her owlishly. “Back in the days of my grandfather, they had a different name for those people. They called them rebels. Radicals. Revolutionaries. They broke societies, started wars. Sometimes they killed in the name of progress. Most people hated them. Very few celebrated them. But they are the ones who changed the world.”
A chill ran up the back of Aurelie’s neck.
“So, Miss Blake?” Professor Sheldrake asked, handing her back her sketch. “Which one are you?”
Chapter 11
Des