His conscience continued to torment him as he went to work, slaved for hours and finally staggered back to the boarding house. Master Antony was even more unpleasant, as if he knewGennady had done something without knowing precisely what. Or maybe he hadn’t changed at all. Gennady tried his best to follow orders, finding and preparing ingredients and then sorting books without complaining. But he still felt utterly terrible as the days turned into weeks. He wanted to confess. But the longer he waited, the worse it would be.
And he’d kill me, if he knew the truth, Gennady reminded himself. He’d taken the time to look up the laws concerning theft, such as they were. Punishments ranged from time in the stocks to enslavement or death. And ... he’d already crossed the line. I can’t ever tell him.
It was almost surprising, the final day, when Simon walked into the store. “Gennady! How are you?”
Gennady stared. Simon looked ... taller, somehow. His face was tanned, as if he’d been somewhere sunny. He held himself with a new confidence, a confidence Gennady wished he shared. He’d been tempted to visit Simon’s parents, just to see what they were like. They could hardly be worse than his parents, or Master Antony.
“You look so different,” he managed, finally. “What happened to you?”
“Oh, I had a wonderful time,” Simon said. “Do you want to go for dinner? I’ll tell you all about it.”
“Please.” Gennady forced himself to smile. “Just give me a moment.”
Master Antony wasn’t pleased to hear that Gennady wanted to leave early, but it was the last day. He merely grunted as Gennady picked up his knapsack and carried it out of the store, without even bothering to wave goodbye. Gennady smiled, despite his fear, as Simon and he hurried down the streets and into a small cafe. He’d gotten away with it. Master Antony had never noticed the missing book. He hadn’t even known he’d had it to lose.
He smiled, for what felt like the first time in years. “How was your summer?”
“Oh, it was great!” Simon grinned, brightly. “The guy I was working with? He was an enchanter. I learnt so much about enchanting crap ... you know, I can make a teapot that sings!”
Gennady felt a lump of something indigestible in the pit of his stomach. Simon had had a good time. Of course he’d had a good time. He’d been having fun, and learning magic, while Gennady had been stuck in a store with a grumpy master who’d treated him as a slave ... he felt his guilt evaporate as envy gnawed at him. Simon had had a good time. It just wasn’t fair.
“Why would you make a singing teapot?” It was hard to talk, against the growing envy pulsing through him. Simon had learnt something useful.Gennady had wasted his time. “What’s the point?”
“Apparently, it was to welcome guests and make them feel comfortable. Or something.” Simon shrugged. “The guy who ordered it was an absolute beast.”
“I know the type,” Gennady said. His friends had practically abandoned him ... he tried to tell himself that wasn’t true, that they hadn’t had a choice, but it was hard to believe it. “Have you heard from Lyndred?”
“She’s fine; she wrote to me,” Simon said. “The bard is apparently a little too fond of the healer.”
Gennady felt another twinge of envy. Lyndred hadn’t written to him. Primrose hadn’t written to him, not that she could. It was unfair, but ... he gritted his teeth. He felt alone, even though Simon was with him. He’d always be alone.
“We’ll be going back to school tomorrow,” Simon said. “Are you looking forward to it?”
“Yeah.” Gennady smiled, wanly. He was looking forward to going back to school, but he had other problems to worry about. “I have something I need to show you.”
Simon looked up. “What?”
“Wait and see.” Gennady tried to wink. “I want to show you and Lyndred at the same time.”
“Cool.” Simon didn’t seem put out. “I heard someone started a war. Charlus was trying to help his father, and he got into a feud with their family’s allies.”
“I wish.” Gennady would have liked to believe Charlus had done something even his family would have found unacceptable, but he doubted it. He wasn’t sure there was anything that couldn’t be hushed up, if the aristocrats didn’t simply take it in stride. “He’s probably going to come back to school, bragging about having sorted out all the problems of the world.”
“He’ll have to devise a plan to retake the Blighted Lands first.” Simon gestured towards the Craggy Mountains and the Blighted Lands beyond. “You remember Duke Fotheringay?”
Gennady nodded. They’d studied the duke in history class. He’d led an ill-planned attack on the Blighted Lands, which had ended in utter disaster. The necromancers had slaughtered the army and done unspeakable things to the duke, which hadn’t stopped the tutor from speaking about them. Gennady contemplated the mental image of Charlus meeting the same end, then sobered. The bastard would scrape out of it somehow, like he always did, while his entire army was ground to powder. His family’s wealth and power would see to that, no matter who died. And Charlus would probably be feted as a hero.
“I’m sure people will remember him,” Simon said, when Gennady said that out loud. “As one of the worst idiots the human race ever produced.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Gennady lifted his mug of water. He’d refused alcohol. His father had turned into a brute whenever he drank and Gennady refused to go the same way. “To people getting their just desserts.”
“Cheers,” Simon said.
Chapter 10
It was a relief, Gennady found when they made the long trek back to Whitehall the following morning, to discover that his roommates were a pair of aristocrats who’d never paid any particular attention to him. They seemed too wrapped up in their family affairs to change that, as far as he could tell. One was a close friend—or crony, more like—of Charlus, yet he didn’t seem inclined to pick a fight with Gennady. Gennady was sure that would change, sooner or later, but he’d take what he could get. He certainly wouldn’t have felt safekeeping the stolen book in his old room. Who knew if Charlus would have started pawing through Gennady’s possessions?
He concealed the book within his drawer, then met up with his friends and went to class. It was just as hard as he remembered, with the students hitting the ground running. There was very little time for a private meeting, even after classes formally came to an end. Gennady had to spend the first few evenings in the library, just to catch up with the rest of the class. He had to wait until the weekend—and then reserve a spellchamber—just so he could have a proper chat with his friends.
“So,” Simon said, once they’d cast privacy wards. “What’s the big secret?”
“You’ve been dropping hints all week,” Lyndred added. She smiled warmly, her eyes lingering on Simon. It was clear they were steadily growing closer. “What is it?”