“At least seven more,” he quipped back.
“Oh, I am going to murder you,” I warned.
“You can hardly even stand up straight. You really think you can start swinging on me?” he challenged.
“Please do not,” Fen added, and I cracked a smile.
“Only because she asked,” I told Kieran.
“It’s not the first time she’s saved my ass, and I’m sure it won’t be the last,” he muttered.
Our walk back to my apartment started off quiet, the two of us processing the chaos of the last twenty-four hours.
“Before I drop you off, remind me to send a sprite off to my commander, will you? I promised to keep him posted on your recovery after the attack.”
“Of course,” I said, disregarding my vague curiosity on why his commander would care about my well-being.
Though…
“Speaking of mail sprites. How did you do that, Kieran?”
“Do what, exactly?” Kieran asked, keeping his gaze fixed on the road ahead.
“That thing, with the raven. At first I thought it was just your mail sprite… but it looked different. And then it felt as though you were speaking inside my mind. I didn’t know anyone could do that. I don’t think I’ve ever even heard of such a thing,” I explained.
I tried my best to keep my tone even, feigning disinterest even though I was burning with curiosity. There were several things about that night that I couldn’t comprehend, and this was probably one of the tamest of the questions I had.
Kieran sighed.
“Yeah, about that. Do me a favor, Ark. Can you avoid…sharing that with the class, so to speak? I hate to ask this of you, but if you could avoid bringing that up, even with your friends…”
Every now and again, a request like this would crop up. Kieran never looked particularly happy to ask me to keep secrets, but I figured it just sort of came with the territory when your best friend was essentially a spymaster.
“Oh. Of course, yeah. I wouldn’t dream of it. Can I ask why?”
For a moment he was silent, continuing to stare off into the crowd ahead.
“It’s… Well. It’s not a common practice, basically. It’s an extremely complex form of arcana that takes a great deal of energy and focus. As far as I’m aware, they actually don’t teach it here. It’s considered to be too dangerous.”
“You seemed to handle it perfectly fine,” I replied.
“Training, Little Conduit. A great deal of training.”
“But not from the scholars.”
“No, not from them.”
The change in his posture was so subtle that I doubt anyone else would have noticed, but I knew him well enough to notice how he’d stiffened. It was as if he knew what I would ask next. Perhaps I should have held my tongue in that case, but I couldn’t help but ask the obvious question.
“And not from the guard.”
“No.”
“If not from them, or the scholars, Kier… then who taught you?”
All of the light and life behind his eyes seemed to flicker briefly like a flame in the wind. Like it was on the verge of being snuffed out as he opened his mouth to speak, and my stomach churned with regret. I shouldn’t have asked.
“My birth father.”