Nicodemus raised his eyebrows. “When do you lecture?”

“In half an hour,” Devin said with a glare that dared him to chide her. Fortunately, he knew enough to keep his mouth shut. When she spoke again, it was in a calmer voice. “Nico, tell me everything you know about Los.”

“I’m a cacographer too, you know. I never took theology either.”

“But you memorize everything Shannon says and fawn-”

“All right, all right. Back on the ancient continent there was a golden age when the Solar Empire… and that’s not the Neosolar Empire, which formed on this continent. Anyway, the original Solar Empire existed in peace with the gods. But someone committed a grave sin that enabled Los, then a powerful earth god, to become the first demon.”

“But what sin-”

Nicodemus shrugged. “Every religion has a different answer. Probably no one’s right; probably that knowledge was lost when our ancestors crossed the ocean. As wizards we hold to no belief and so are not bound to a religion or kingdom. All you need to know is that Los took a third of the deities to Mount Calax and turned them into demons. He made an army of all the demons and called it the Pandemonium. That’s where the word comes from: Pan, all, demonium, demons. So when we say the class was pandemonium we’re using hyperbole to-”

“Blasted pisser-” Devin cut herself short and calmed down. “Nico, I get it. Could you just give me the history without your linguistic ramblings?”

Nicodemus grumbled about history and linguistic ramblings being the same thing before continuing. “So after Los formed the Pandemonium, there was a war between deities and demons called the Apocalypse. When it became clear the demons would win, the human deities built huge Exodus ships to cross the ocean. Somehow-no one’s sure how-a group of human heroes turned Los into stone. This bought the ships enough time to get out to sea. The demons, being bound to the ancient continent, couldn’t follow. Then a powerful wind called the Maelstrom scattered the Exodus ships. That’s why each of the current landfall kingdoms has people of different shapes and colorings.”

Devin narrowed her eyes. “In ancient kingdoms everyone looked the same?”

“More or less. Certainly someone like me with black hair and olive skin would not have come from the same kingdom as someone with your red hair and freckles.”

“There’s no need to be snotty, Nico. Cacographers aren’t taught this stuff. And I don’t hang on Magister’s every miniature lecture like you do. When wizards gossip, I’ll listen. But I’d rather chew gravel that listen to most of their academic babble.” She sniffed. “Just another reason why it’d be better if I were illiterate.”

“I’m sorry, Dev, I didn’t mean… But don’t be so unhappy. Even if they permanently censored you, it’s not as if you would be free. You’ve told me yourself, magical illiterates are bound to the land or their trade. They have to work in the fields for lords or barons or whatnot.”

She only shrugged and turned back to her stew. “Couldn’t be worse than it is here.”

Nicodemus leaned forward. “Dev, you’d have no spells to wash your face or clean your teeth. No constructs to empty the night pot. And you’d be short-lived.”

Suddenly her brown eyes burned with their characteristic fire. “Well f-” Again she visibly suppressed an obscenity. “I don’t care a fig for that! Not all of us are as strong as you, Nico. I’ll barely see a century. And I’m nearly fifty already. I might not look it, but I am. If I were illiterate, at least I wouldn’t outlive my family.”

Nicodemus started to protest but then stopped. “You’d want to get married?”

“Oh, a bloody donkey’s ass-crack on that!” she snapped. “I damned well don’t want to get married.” She began stirring her stew with trembling hands.

Nicodemus could not think of what to say, so he sat in silence and waited until she appeared calmer.

“Dev,” he said at last. “Last night I asked you what Smallwood meant when he called me Shannon’s new pet cacographer.”

“Forget it. It’s nothing important.” She scowled. “Though it proves my point about being illiterate.”

Nicodemus touched her elbow. “Tell me? Please?”

Devin looked at him. “It’s all hearsay.”

He nodded.

After laying her spoon down, she scooted a conspiratorial half-inch closer on the bench. “Well, years ago Magister was a rising star in Astrophell, both in research and politics. He was also an oddity because his father came from Dral, but his mother from Trillinon. That’s why his names sound so different-Agwu Shannon. Anyway, his faction, The Sons of Ejindu, wanted the wizards to take a more active role in keeping any rogue spellwrights from joining the Spirish Civil War. Shannon was their Long Council speaker. And…” Devin lowered her voice. “And… he got the provost’s grandniece pregnant!”

Nicodemus looked dubious. “But spellwrights can’t conceive. We’re all sterile.”

Devin smiled at him. “Nico, sometimes I forget how young you are. That’s what we tell the acolytes. Together we’re all barren. No two spellwrights have ever conceived. But every so often, a spellwright and an illiterate produce a child.”

“Shannon got an illiterate pregnant!”

“Shhhh!” She swatted his shoulder. “Not so loud. Now you see why we authors swear off families. We would outlive them and have to watch them die. That’s why it was a huge scandal when Shannon got the provost’s grandniece with child.”

Nicodemus could only shake his head.

She continued, “So Shannon tried to hide the baby, but his opponents discovered the boy and started the scandal. The provost of Astrophell was furious and made Shannon Master of the Drum Tower in Starhaven. To get rid of him, you see.”

“And then?”

“No one knows exactly. Some say Magister did something desperate with his research, hoping a breakthrough would earn him forgiveness. Some say he’s blind because his research spell burned out his mundane vision. But whatever happened Magister ended up here at Starhaven. He couldn’t visit Astrophell for twenty years or so. By then his wife had died and his son was married. Magister tried to patch things up, but apparently his son hated him for abandoning the family and denounced Magister in public.”

Nicodemus blew out a long breath.

“So Magister came back here and became a champion of cacographers.” Her wide eyes darted up for a moment. “He chooses one cacographic boy from every generation and tries to help him earn a hood. Before you it was Tomas Rylan. Tom lived with John and me. Magister helped him become a lesser wizard in Starfall Janitorial.”

Nicodemus felt his face burn. Had Shannon chosen him as an apprentice only because he wanted a new pet cripple?

Devin stirred the dregs of her stew. “From the moment you came to the Drum Tower, you were Magister’s favorite. We weren’t surprised when he moved you into the top floor with John and me years before you had earned it.”

“Oh” was all Nicodemus could bring himself to say.

Devin looked at him. “So that’s what Smallwood meant.”

Nicodemus’s mind reeled. Shannon had taken him as an apprentice only out of pity? He felt sick. “Thank you, Dev,” he said quietly.

“Nico, you shouldn’t hold it against Magister; he only wants to help.”

He stood. “I should go.”

Devin caught his hand and squeezed. “Nico, everyone loves you in the Drum Tower. John and I… Don’t feel bad.”

“I have to meet the old man in the compluvium.” He squeezed her hand in return. “I don’t want to be late.”

“Okay.”

He picked up his bowl and cup. “See you tonight,” he said and walked away.

CHAPTER Eighteen

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