Abaddon's Mark

Chapter Forty-Five

When the students returned to Amos, they weren't allowed to teleport into the receiving building. They were brought to the end of the drive and had to walk up with whatever of their items they could carry. Whatever they couldn't carry was left behind, leaving many students scrambling as civilians began lining up, eying the belongings left behind.

Maeno only had a small bag.

Which had his clothing and one book in it.

It should have had his razor and the small cleansing knife he had purchased the year before but Nendan had taken those from him. Like he couldn't be trusted with the items. The cleansing knife was duller than a butterknife, meant only to cut through the magic of a latent spell before it activated.

The fact that Nendan was surprised Maeno had one and ordered an inventory of his room, workroom, stores, and hidey-holes didn't help Maeno relax any. He had a coin burning a desperate hole in his pocket and a visit four days overdue. He didn't have time to worry about the secrets Lugh would dig up.

Just as long as the coin wasn't found.

Though, the look on Nendan's face when Maeno had asked what a hidey-hole even was, had been priceless.

They returned to their rooms only to have a Kaulu pair enter in spelled leather armour. Maeno wasn't sure if he should have known what that armour was called. It had the carved representation of the cockatrice scaling, but Maeno could feel the spells writhing on the inside. His right arm itched as their belongings were carefully searched.

The Kaulu took Feon's razor, nicking him on the cheek with it, and a cleansing knife that vibrated with magic as they removed it. The troll babbled at them, but they just patted it on the head and promised that it was in good hands.

Healers weren't seeing to those nicked by a razor, they learned shortly after.

The next morning the first and second years were gathered together and sat down in the grand hall in the same seats they had during the council meeting. As they sat there, books were handed out, heavy things almost as thick as Maeno's hand. Gilded on the front was the name of the university.

Aelynn Magi o Scalea.

No one ever explained that Amos University wasn't the name of the school. If it weren't for the council gathering, he might never have learned that. He didn't recognize the language, didn't know what any of it meant besides Magi, that gave him some indication. He had tried the obvious, asking Nendan. The man had nodded, grunted, and agreed that's what it meant. His heart skipped a beat as he thought of the implications.

That they were about to be taught of the Magi history.

The Kaulu representative stepped before them. His back straight, head held high as he looked over the gathered students. Because of the intermarriage between mages and the Seven, there were several in the crowd who looked Kaulu or Pan in descent. They might be undercover Seven, or simply mages making their way in the world.

Nendan had been recognized as having Lugh blood but no one knew he was Lugh until his second or so year. Nendan hadn't exactly been clear on that part but once his brother died, he had been outed because he became heir. Anyone besides heir entered Amos without the backing of their lines, sometimes with a fake family name.

The heirs, though, they tended to hold the standard, recognizable features.

The recognizable features that the Kaulu representative carried. Where Pan was the knight in shining armour, the prince charming sort of creature—and why wouldn't they be when those myths arose because of their actions?—Kaulu were the boisterous Northerners broad of shoulder and nose, tall and built to carry muscle. They still had throwbacks, men born to their line with a shock of red hair.