everyone kept talking about how dangerous you were. Telling stories. Then when you wouldn’t let me see my blood . . .” I trailed off, shrugging.
“Are you really still getting after-echoes from the plum bob?” she asked.
“Little flashes,” I said. “And I seem to be losing my temper more easily. But that might just be the stress. Simmon says I probably have unbound principles in my system. Whatever that means.”
Devi scowled. “I’m working with less than ideal equipment here,” she said, gesturing to a closed door. “And I am sorry. But the fellow offered me a full set of the
I turned to look at her, surprised. “You made it for him?”
“It’s better than handing over the formula,” Devi said defensively.
Part of me felt like I should be angry, but the majority of me was simply happy that I was warm and dry, with no threat of death hanging over me. I shrugged it off. “Simmon says you can’t factor worth half a damn,” I said conversationally.
Devi looked down at her hands. “I’m not proud of selling it,” she admitted. Then after a moment, she looked up again, grinning. “But the
I laughed. “Show me.”
Hours later my clothes were dry and the sleet had changed to a gentle snow. Stonebridge would be a solid sheet of ice, but other than that, the walk home would be much more pleasant.
When I emerged from the washroom I saw Devi was sitting back at her desk. I made my way over and handed her the robe. “I won’t impugn your honor by asking why you own a robe much longer and broader in the shoulder than anything a delicate young lady of your size could ever wear.”
Devi snorted indelicately and rolled her eyes.
I sat down and tugged on my boots. They were delightfully warm from sitting near the fire. Then I brought out my purse and lay three heavy silver talents on the desk, pushing them toward her. Devi looked at them curiously.
“I’ve recently come into a little money,” I said. “Not enough to settle my whole debt. But I can pay this term’s interest early.” I waved a hand at the coins. “A gesture of good faith.”
Devi smiled and pushed the coins back across the table. “You’ve still got two span before the end of the term,” she said. “Like I said, let’s stick to our original deal. I’d feel bad about taking your money early.”
Though I’d offered Devi the money as an honest peace offering, I was glad to keep my three talents for now. There is a vast difference between having some coin and no coin. There is a feeling of helplessness that comes from having an empty purse.
It’s like seed grain. At the end of a long winter, if you have some grain left, you can use it for seed. You have control over your life. You can use that grain and make plans for the future. But if you have no grain for seed in the spring, you are helpless. No amount of hard work or good intention will make crops grow if you don’t have the seed to start with.
So I bought clothes: three shirts, a new pair of pants, and thick woolen socks. I bought a hat and gloves and scarf to keep away the winter’s chill. For Auri I bought a pouch of sea salt, a sack of dried peas, two jars of peach preserves, and a pair of warm slippers. I bought a set of lute strings, ink, and a half-dozen sheets of paper.
I also bought a sturdy brass drop-bar and screwed it to the window frame in my tiny garret room. I could circumvent it fairly easily, but it would keep my few possessions safe from even the most well-intentioned thieves.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Without Word or Warning
I stared out the front window of Anker’s, looking at the falling snow and idly turning Denna’s ring over in my fingers. Winter lay heavy over the University, and Denna had been gone for more than a month. I had three hours before class with Elodin, and I was trying to decide if the slim chance of finding Denna was worth the long, cold walk to Imre.
As I stood at the window, a Cealdish man came through the door, stomping the powdery snow from his boots and looking around curiously. It was still early in the day, and I was the only person in the common room.
He walked over to me, snowflakes melting in his beard until they were bright beads of water. “Sorry to bother you. I’m looking for a fellow,” he said, surprising me with his utter lack of anything resembling a Cealdish accent. He reached inside his long coat and pulled out a thick envelope with a blood-red seal. “Ka-voth-ee.” He read slowly, then turned the envelope toward me so I could see the front.
It was Denna’s handwriting. “It’s Kvothe, actually,” I said absentmindedly. “The
He shrugged. “You him?”
“I am,” I said.
He nodded, satisfied. “Well, I got this down in Tarbean about a span back. Bought it off a fellow for a hard penny. He said he bought it off a sailor in Junpui for a Vintish silver bit. He couldn’t remember the name of the town where the sailor had got it from, but it was inland a ways.”
The man met my eye. “I’m tellin’ you this so you don’t think I’m trying to shim you on the deal. I paid a full hard penny, then came over myself from Imre though it was out of my way.” He looked around the common room. “Though I’m guessing a fellow with a fine inn such as this won’t quibble about giving a fellow his due.”
I laughed. “This isn’t my inn,” I said. “I just have a room here.”
“Oh,” he said, obviously a little disappointed. “You looked kinda proprietorial standing there. Still, I’m sure you see I need to make my money off this.”
“I do,” I said. “How much do you think is fair?”
He looked me up and down, eyeing my clothes. “I suppose I’d be happy making my hard penny back and a soft penny besides.”
I brought out my purse and fished around in it. Luckily, I’d been playing cards a few nights before, and had some Aturan currency. “Seems fair,” I said as I handed over the money.
He started to go, then turned back. “Out of curiosity,” he asked. “Would you have paid two hard pennies to get it?”
“Probably,” I admitted.
“
The envelope was heavy parchment, wrinkled and smudged with much handling. The seal showed a stag rampant standing before a barrel and a harp. I pressed it hard between my fingers, shattering it as I sat down.
The letter read:
