Where would she go? Where the hell was she going to go?
Elder Charles cleared his throat. Thou are probably curious about why thy presence was requested.
In his lap sat a pale blue file: her school records. He opened it, his face tilted down to look at the pages. Your results from the latest aptitude test round have come in.
Shed flunked. Shed flunked, and that was it. She justHow was that possible when shed studied so hard, practiced those spells into the wee hours, long after lights-out in the dorm?
They were all looking at her like they expected some response, but she couldnt bring herself to make one. Her throat was too tight, so tight it hurt. The best she could muster was to raise her eyebrows a bit, tip her head in what she hoped looked like a curious nod toward the paper he held.
Very impressive, he said finally. We were especially interested in your counterhex results, and the number of spells you improvised from the ingredients you were given.
Elder Hancock smiled. The power-raising sigil was an especially nice touch.
They werent kicking her out. They werethey were saying nice things to her, they were smiling, they thought shed done well. Relief flooded her system, so strong her vision wavered; for a second she was afraid she was going to pass out. Thank you, sir.
He nodded. As you know, students in their last year of classes are given the opportunity to work with employees in various positions around the Church, to help them choose their future career. You have not yet made a decision?
No, sir.
He turned from her then, gesturing at the two people standing behind him. This is Special Inquisitor Scott Freemont and Inquisitor Second Jillian Morrow. Wed like you to work with Jillian for the next week.
Whoa. Okay, that was not something shed ever considered doing. The the Black Squad? Im not
We think your talents may be a fit, Elder Charles interrupted. Wed like you to work with Jillian for a week.
We think your talents may be a fit, Elder Charles interrupted. Wed like you to work with Jillian for a week.
Shit.
She wanted to work for the Black Squad about as much as she wanted to cut off her toes and eat them for dinner. No, she hadnt put down a preference yet, but that was because well, because she didnt want them pigeonholing her. She didnt want them thinking they knew her.
Besides, rumor had it that the Church viewed actually listing a preference as a sign of stubbornness and pride, and would go out of their way to disregard those preferences.
She was lucky to be there at all, she reminded herself, and forced another smile. Her lips were starting to hurt. Sure, I mean, of course, sir. If you think thats the best thing for me to do.
Elder Charles looked pleased; well, they all looked pleased. Excellent. Jillian, will you take Miss Putnam with you now to get her things, and you can head out.
Wait, what? Right that minute? She didnt want to seem difficult, but Um, sir? Elder Charles? Im sorry to interrupt, but I have a sigil analysis test in the morning, and I dont want to
He chuckled. Do not worry thyself. You are of course excused from classwork for the next week; thou can make up the test on your return. He leaned forward with the smirking sort of air of someone pretending to care about breaking confidences or embarrassing people. The air of someone who honestly thought he did care, to be fair, but didnt really, not deep down. Dont worry. It wont affect your scholarship.
Once again, years of experience in keeping her face calm, in pretending she didnt feel it, didnt hear it, held her in good stead. Her lips curved into what she knew was a natural-looking smile. No one seeing that smile would know that she wanted to spit at the Elder and run, that she wanted to cry. Like she hadnt heard enough over the years about her going to classes on charity, like she hadnt dealt with enough of her fellow students looking at her, whispering about her, knowing she was nobody and had no ancestry, that even her last name had come from the Church and not from a family. Thank you, sir. I was concerned.
Elder Griffin cleared his throat behind her; she turned around to see his expression clear, like hed been making a face. He smiled at her. He was smiling, she was smiling, the others were smiling they looked like theyd all been dosed with some sort of hallucinogen. Im sure Miss Putnam is simply surprised. Perhaps we can give her ten minutes or so to get her things together and drop off her books.
Chess looked at him, unable for a second to hide her surprise. Was he ? He washe was giving her a few minutes to adjust. A few minutes alone. And he was doing it on purpose, because when he glanced down at herjust a glancetheir eyes met and she saw in his that he knew exactly what he was doing.
So what did he want from her?
Maybe greeting his kindness with suspicion was wrong; he was Church, after all, and shed been trying to accept that some peoplemost people, it seemedin the Church werent playing some kind of angle; hell, most of them werent even aware of her. But someone overtly helpful to her like that what did he want? What was he going to want her to do, to repay it?