Piper pursed her lips, shooting the building in front of her a suspicious look. Unnecessary, of courseâshe was somewhat familiar with it now, and she knew it to be the place where her trainers were staying. She supposed there might be a more formal title for them than that, but theyâd never used it, and so she didnât know. Perhaps a question she could ask her father, but she hadnât exactly gotten around to telling him that she was joining the Order yet. Not because she didnât want him to know, but rather⊠she wanted to make sure she had a chance first. If she was to fail, she would prefer to do it with as few witnesses as possible, and she especially didnât want him to know of it.
But her errand today was another possible bump in the road. She knew that the Mismarians had likely pulled the official records of all of the candidates, to check for things like criminal records and whatnot, but there was something that wasnât on any of those records that they would want to know. She just wasnât so sure she wanted to tell.
Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself. This was no time for cowardice. She couldnât change what she was, and if it prohibited her, then she would just have to live with that. Brushing nonexistent lint off her tan sweater-vestâsheâd come here directly from her shift at the archivesâPiper pushed open the door to the Fletcherâs Den and entered, scanning the tables for the distinctive faces she was looking for.
Asher was sitting at the same table Imogen had been last time, off to one side and with his back to the wall, facing the entrance. Her father always did that, tooârefused to put his back to strangers. She wondered if she would be like that after a few years. His hood was up over his face, but she recognized him by his posture and the few tufts of platinum-blond that escaped his cowl. She strode to the table in question, but did not presume to be seated without permission. For all her flat irreverence, there were things she would not disregard.
"Asher.â She found it odd that he and his sister had wanted to be addressed by their first names rather than anything more formal, but respected the instructions. "Do you have a moment to spare?â The question was delivered bereft of any particular emotion, but it was not a light one even so.
The Hunter thus addressed pushed down his hood, though quite a lot of his face was still obscured by the way his hair lay shaggy and mostly unkempt. His fingers toyed absently with the rim of his glass, more an idle motion than one with any specific purpose. He blinked over at her, the mismatched quality of his eyes only lending to the unfortunate appearance of his face.
âOnly if you have a moment to sit,â he replied dryly, jerking his chin at the one directly across from him at the table.
So Piper sat, recognizing a command when she heard one, even if he was polite about it. Settling into the wooden chair, she folded her hands on top of the table, an old little gesture her father always had. Heâd told her it was because it was polite to show strangers and acquaintances that your hands were empty, a tradition that he claimed dated back to before Ragnarök. She had no idea, herself, but she figured it couldnât hurt.
For a moment, she studied the hunter in front of her. Of course, she was immediately curious about how heâd obtained the white marks that hashed across half his face, but though she was often blunt to the point of rudeness, she didnât ask. Perhaps she would at some later time, but not today. They gave his face a sort of harshness, she would say, but though they were clearly marring, she didnât consider them hideous. They were just⊠different. Clearly, he did not think so, and she supposed she wouldnât be too keen on them if she had to wear them, either. She realized she was staring, but she didnât check herself or apologize or try to hide the fact, because she wasnât sorry, and she didnât care if he knew.
Instead, she spoke. "Iâm a witch.â Her tone was quietâshe did not desire anyone in the room to overhear her, after all. She went to great lengths to cover up the truth of her heritage, because to do otherwise would saddle her not only with suspicion, which was inconvenient but tolerable, but also likely with oversight, and she did not desire to be treated like a felon on parole. "Grey, of course. Itâs been kept off the records, but I thought it best to tell you now. I have heard⊠that this is not always prohibitive for joining the Order, but I have also heard that you are allowed to turn people away for whatever reason you want, and I have to say I really donât want to endure months more of training just to be turned away for being what I am later on.â She would vastly prefer that it happen now, before she began her transition between lives in earnest.
Asherâs face didnât change much while she spoke. He swirled the liquid around in his lowball for a few seconds when she was done, then tipped his head back and downed the rest in a pair of gulps, shaking his head slightly and setting the glass back down on its coaster with a dull thunk. âIâm impressed you managed to keep it off the official records,â he murmured, picking the glass back up and staring into the bottom of it as though to confirm that it was indeed empty. A drop circled the edge, but nothing more remained.
Pushing an exhalation through his nose, he put it back down and made eye contact with Piper across the table. âI canât really fault you for being a witch,â he said. âImogenâs one, too.â The good side of his mouth inched upwards. âBut Iâm glad you told me. Youâll all be split up for individual training eventually, and sheâll probably want to work with you for a while. Do you have a specialization yet?â
Piper blinked. Whatever she had expected, it was not that. She was surprised to learn that Imogen was a witch, but more surprised by how easily Asher spoke of it, by how conversant he was in the words for things in the Craft that she had never really spoken about with anyone. It would seem that his sister was very open about certain things that Piper had always thought no one talked about. But it was an honest question, and for the moment, she saw no harm in giving an honest answer.
"Iâm an alchemist. My tutoring has been⊠intermittent, but Iâm familiar with the major texts, and I achieved journeyman status about two years ago. Iâm best with potions and biochemical reagents, but I can do at least something in any of the subfields.â She was a bit proud of that, and it may have seeped slightly into her words, though she hadnât meant anything to be boasting. Just factually accurate.
"Do you think I should tell the others?â It was a question that had been occupying her mind of late. It seemed best to be honest, but⊠if any of them had reason to hate her kind, it may well disrupt team dynamics, and she wasnât sure they could afford that.
Asherâs fingers smoothed idly over the edge of his cardboard coaster, rather well-used if the bends in it were any indication. Then again, the bar wasnât exactly a high-class establishment. He pursed his lips. âThe decisionâs yours,â he said eventually, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. The motion did nothing to tame it, the fluffed ends merely springing back into their bedheaded places afterwards. âWeâre required to tell your partner if you reach the point where you have one, but no one else has to know, and I can understand why youâd want to keep it from people who might not complete the training.â
He hummed a note at the back of his throat, propping his chin on his hand. âBut if you want my advice, Iâd tell the people you get along with best. Thatâs part of how we pick partners in the first place, and you donât want us to be the ones springing it on someone who believes they can trust you. It doesnât have to be now, but you should do it eventually, I think.â
Piper nodded. There was sense in the words, and she was never one to ignore logic. She acknowledged that it was difficult for her to be objective on this matter, at least completely, because being a witch was such a large, unavoidable part of her identity. And an unfortunate one, sometimes, but inexorable. "Thank you.â It wasnât something she said all that often, being the kind of person who disliked relying on others, but she could recognize when she had received good advice, and wasnât grudging with her gratitude.
She paused a moment though, still scrutinizing him, then spoke slowly. "You⊠you knew already, yes?â It would explain his lack of surprise. Even if his sister was a witch too, which would go some way to producing his easy attitude about it, it was still an extremely rare trait, and it should have produced more of a reaction, she thought. The most reasonable answer was that heâd already known. But how?
Asher inclined his head. âYouâre not in the official records, but Vimmark Hadley did include where heâd found you in his petition to the Order for the dispensation to adopt you. It wasnât a difficult guess from there.â He tilted his head slightly to the side, studying her in turn, though he was unable to hide his discomfort with being looked at so intently, shifting slightly in his seat, and reaching for his glass before he seemed to recall that there was no longer anything in it.
âYou neednât be concerned that it is common knowledge even among the brothers and sisters, however. I did a lot of digging on all of you; itâs not something anyone and everyone who works with you will repeat. And the documents were difficult to access, even for me.â
Even for him. That made it sound like he was someone important, though she would not necessarily have guessed as much from the way he presented himself. Perhaps he only meant that recruiters were supposed to have easier access to information on the recruits. But of course, she wasnât the sort to let something like that assuage her, and she began to think back on all the stories her father had told her, attempting to recollect any mention of someone named Drake. Nothing was immediately forthcoming, but her aural recall was not nearly as good as her visual, and so perhaps she would ask him, just to be sure.
For the moment, however, she had concluded her business, and Piper supposed that Asher had more to do than sit around talking to her all day, so she stood briskly, inclining her head. "Then Iâve no more to say. I bid Asher farewell.â She paused a moment, waiting for something like a dismissal, but once sheâd received it, she was efficient in her passage to the door. There werenât many hours left until sunset, and she still had a few errands to run.
But her errand today was another possible bump in the road. She knew that the Mismarians had likely pulled the official records of all of the candidates, to check for things like criminal records and whatnot, but there was something that wasnât on any of those records that they would want to know. She just wasnât so sure she wanted to tell.
Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself. This was no time for cowardice. She couldnât change what she was, and if it prohibited her, then she would just have to live with that. Brushing nonexistent lint off her tan sweater-vestâsheâd come here directly from her shift at the archivesâPiper pushed open the door to the Fletcherâs Den and entered, scanning the tables for the distinctive faces she was looking for.
Asher was sitting at the same table Imogen had been last time, off to one side and with his back to the wall, facing the entrance. Her father always did that, tooârefused to put his back to strangers. She wondered if she would be like that after a few years. His hood was up over his face, but she recognized him by his posture and the few tufts of platinum-blond that escaped his cowl. She strode to the table in question, but did not presume to be seated without permission. For all her flat irreverence, there were things she would not disregard.
"Asher.â She found it odd that he and his sister had wanted to be addressed by their first names rather than anything more formal, but respected the instructions. "Do you have a moment to spare?â The question was delivered bereft of any particular emotion, but it was not a light one even so.
The Hunter thus addressed pushed down his hood, though quite a lot of his face was still obscured by the way his hair lay shaggy and mostly unkempt. His fingers toyed absently with the rim of his glass, more an idle motion than one with any specific purpose. He blinked over at her, the mismatched quality of his eyes only lending to the unfortunate appearance of his face.
âOnly if you have a moment to sit,â he replied dryly, jerking his chin at the one directly across from him at the table.
So Piper sat, recognizing a command when she heard one, even if he was polite about it. Settling into the wooden chair, she folded her hands on top of the table, an old little gesture her father always had. Heâd told her it was because it was polite to show strangers and acquaintances that your hands were empty, a tradition that he claimed dated back to before Ragnarök. She had no idea, herself, but she figured it couldnât hurt.
For a moment, she studied the hunter in front of her. Of course, she was immediately curious about how heâd obtained the white marks that hashed across half his face, but though she was often blunt to the point of rudeness, she didnât ask. Perhaps she would at some later time, but not today. They gave his face a sort of harshness, she would say, but though they were clearly marring, she didnât consider them hideous. They were just⊠different. Clearly, he did not think so, and she supposed she wouldnât be too keen on them if she had to wear them, either. She realized she was staring, but she didnât check herself or apologize or try to hide the fact, because she wasnât sorry, and she didnât care if he knew.
Instead, she spoke. "Iâm a witch.â Her tone was quietâshe did not desire anyone in the room to overhear her, after all. She went to great lengths to cover up the truth of her heritage, because to do otherwise would saddle her not only with suspicion, which was inconvenient but tolerable, but also likely with oversight, and she did not desire to be treated like a felon on parole. "Grey, of course. Itâs been kept off the records, but I thought it best to tell you now. I have heard⊠that this is not always prohibitive for joining the Order, but I have also heard that you are allowed to turn people away for whatever reason you want, and I have to say I really donât want to endure months more of training just to be turned away for being what I am later on.â She would vastly prefer that it happen now, before she began her transition between lives in earnest.
Asherâs face didnât change much while she spoke. He swirled the liquid around in his lowball for a few seconds when she was done, then tipped his head back and downed the rest in a pair of gulps, shaking his head slightly and setting the glass back down on its coaster with a dull thunk. âIâm impressed you managed to keep it off the official records,â he murmured, picking the glass back up and staring into the bottom of it as though to confirm that it was indeed empty. A drop circled the edge, but nothing more remained.
Pushing an exhalation through his nose, he put it back down and made eye contact with Piper across the table. âI canât really fault you for being a witch,â he said. âImogenâs one, too.â The good side of his mouth inched upwards. âBut Iâm glad you told me. Youâll all be split up for individual training eventually, and sheâll probably want to work with you for a while. Do you have a specialization yet?â
Piper blinked. Whatever she had expected, it was not that. She was surprised to learn that Imogen was a witch, but more surprised by how easily Asher spoke of it, by how conversant he was in the words for things in the Craft that she had never really spoken about with anyone. It would seem that his sister was very open about certain things that Piper had always thought no one talked about. But it was an honest question, and for the moment, she saw no harm in giving an honest answer.
"Iâm an alchemist. My tutoring has been⊠intermittent, but Iâm familiar with the major texts, and I achieved journeyman status about two years ago. Iâm best with potions and biochemical reagents, but I can do at least something in any of the subfields.â She was a bit proud of that, and it may have seeped slightly into her words, though she hadnât meant anything to be boasting. Just factually accurate.
"Do you think I should tell the others?â It was a question that had been occupying her mind of late. It seemed best to be honest, but⊠if any of them had reason to hate her kind, it may well disrupt team dynamics, and she wasnât sure they could afford that.
Asherâs fingers smoothed idly over the edge of his cardboard coaster, rather well-used if the bends in it were any indication. Then again, the bar wasnât exactly a high-class establishment. He pursed his lips. âThe decisionâs yours,â he said eventually, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. The motion did nothing to tame it, the fluffed ends merely springing back into their bedheaded places afterwards. âWeâre required to tell your partner if you reach the point where you have one, but no one else has to know, and I can understand why youâd want to keep it from people who might not complete the training.â
He hummed a note at the back of his throat, propping his chin on his hand. âBut if you want my advice, Iâd tell the people you get along with best. Thatâs part of how we pick partners in the first place, and you donât want us to be the ones springing it on someone who believes they can trust you. It doesnât have to be now, but you should do it eventually, I think.â
Piper nodded. There was sense in the words, and she was never one to ignore logic. She acknowledged that it was difficult for her to be objective on this matter, at least completely, because being a witch was such a large, unavoidable part of her identity. And an unfortunate one, sometimes, but inexorable. "Thank you.â It wasnât something she said all that often, being the kind of person who disliked relying on others, but she could recognize when she had received good advice, and wasnât grudging with her gratitude.
She paused a moment though, still scrutinizing him, then spoke slowly. "You⊠you knew already, yes?â It would explain his lack of surprise. Even if his sister was a witch too, which would go some way to producing his easy attitude about it, it was still an extremely rare trait, and it should have produced more of a reaction, she thought. The most reasonable answer was that heâd already known. But how?
Asher inclined his head. âYouâre not in the official records, but Vimmark Hadley did include where heâd found you in his petition to the Order for the dispensation to adopt you. It wasnât a difficult guess from there.â He tilted his head slightly to the side, studying her in turn, though he was unable to hide his discomfort with being looked at so intently, shifting slightly in his seat, and reaching for his glass before he seemed to recall that there was no longer anything in it.
âYou neednât be concerned that it is common knowledge even among the brothers and sisters, however. I did a lot of digging on all of you; itâs not something anyone and everyone who works with you will repeat. And the documents were difficult to access, even for me.â
Even for him. That made it sound like he was someone important, though she would not necessarily have guessed as much from the way he presented himself. Perhaps he only meant that recruiters were supposed to have easier access to information on the recruits. But of course, she wasnât the sort to let something like that assuage her, and she began to think back on all the stories her father had told her, attempting to recollect any mention of someone named Drake. Nothing was immediately forthcoming, but her aural recall was not nearly as good as her visual, and so perhaps she would ask him, just to be sure.
For the moment, however, she had concluded her business, and Piper supposed that Asher had more to do than sit around talking to her all day, so she stood briskly, inclining her head. "Then Iâve no more to say. I bid Asher farewell.â She paused a moment, waiting for something like a dismissal, but once sheâd received it, she was efficient in her passage to the door. There werenât many hours left until sunset, and she still had a few errands to run.