10 days.

  The ‘Moron’s Guide to Arrays’ slipped from his fingers and thumped against the counter. He stared at the floating bookshelf, a copy of the manual slotted into the top-left shelf. His hands shook, and he dove towards the bookshelf in his mind, instinctively floating beside the copy. It was as tall as him—or as tall as the version of him inside his head.

  He knew it.

  Every word of the book he’d flipped through casually while sorting was seared into memory.

  9 days, 23 hours and 58 minutes.

  It was a countdown. Elias knew what it meant now. He would lose it all at zero.

  But until then—

  His hands drew threads of mana from his heart, and they spun together into the first exercise in the book, a little dot of light hovering over the counter as it fell into place. His breath quickened, and Elias wanted to cackle with glee; he was a genius! Maybe only for 10 days, but still. He turned to the pile of old books Forest had dumped for him to sort out and dug through until he found ‘Elementary Arrays and their Fundamental Applications’. He flipped through it and his smile froze.

  No book appeared on the shelf.

  Elias frowned, returned to the first page, and tried again. He understood the basics a little, but the ease with which the initial guide turned into a book wasn’t there.

  That would need some more research, since attempts with other books were equally unsuccessful.

  “Is there a reason you’re frowning so much, Elias? Is the work too difficult?” Forest swayed to the bar, plopping down on one of the bar stools and wiping away a thin sheen of sweat.

  Over the last few days, Elias had gotten used to her routine. Without fail, in the morning as the sun rose, she would send Gareth to drag all the staff who lived in the inn to the kitchen. Those who came from nearby were never late, already dressed and ready for her morning speech. She would never spend long, just assigning tasks before running off to the small courtyard in the back to train. She called it a courtyard. It was more of a backyard with a small well.

  “No. The work is fine. I just started reading some of the books here and realized how much I don’t know.” Elias sighed.

  “I would be surprised if you could understand any of it. The sects guard this information with layers of protection. Even these few texts are allowed to roam through the market for one reason alone: without a teacher, the chances of learning are very poor.”

  “Still, it would be nice to know.”

  “Better to focus on what you can do. Now wrap this up, and we’ll continue our training after lunch.”

  Elias rubbed his bruised arm. The woman delighted in having found a ‘sparring partner’. To Elias, it felt as if he were a punching bag instead. A novice facing someone high-level was difficult enough, but Varen was indolent and uninterested in combat, while Ward found the whole situation novel but lacked the experience.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  The end result was being tossed through the air for an hour a day, smashing into trees and walls, shuddering behind boulders with a blunt sword in hand and occasionally screaming while trying to fire off long-distance slashes. The rings near his heart were solidifying, a faint new one starting to form. Each ring spun in the opposite direction to the one before it, expanding outwards like the orbits of planets in the solar system.

  After another battering round of training, Forest was whistling and sharpening her sword in a corner of the courtyard when Gareth walked in. He bowed to Elias. “Teacher, the Enforcers are here to see you again.” The boy was getting along well now that there was structured tuition, and it was part of the reason Forest was willing to assist him in training. She doted on family.

  Forest sheathed her blade and shot him a look before hurrying in. Any time an Enforcer showed up, she was gone, heading into the basement via the rear staircase. Forest claimed it wasn’t fear, just discomfort with sect politics, but she refused to explain exactly what sect politics were involved.

  “Hail Elias. The Chief Disciple sends her greetings.”

  “Hail Dara. I doubt she does.”

  “She misses you dearly.” Dara grinned. Since supplying Elias with those curly shoes, Dara had been assigned to check up on him. His follow-up interrogations went smoothly. To a point. The truth stone—they used three—still showed half and half when he was asked certain questions, but the centre was starting to turn purple. Varen had seen something like it before. Artifacts that consolidated information were dependent on belief. So apparently he believed in both Ward and Varen at the same time now.

  “I’m sure it’s just the jail cell that misses me.”

  “No no. How can it miss you if you’ve never been inside? It may anticipate your arrival, but not your absence.”

  “That’s a real stretch of a sentence. So why are you visiting? I thought these checks for sanity were meant to be once a week.”

  Dara shook his head. “We’re not checking if you’re insane. We know that already. I’m here to make sure you’re not causing problems because—”

  “—madness isn’t a crime.” Elias finished for him and joined him at the counter. He ordered two drinks. Non-alcoholic. They were both underage. “After two weeks, you still think I’m crazy?”

  “The stone does, and that’s enough for me.” Dara took a deep pull from his tankard and burped. “At least I get to visit this place. Most Enforcers don’t get decent service here. The innkeeper doesn’t like us,” he shot a glance at the door to the kitchen and leaned in towards Elias. “There are rumors about her.”

  “Like?” Elias dropped his voice to a whisper as well.

  “Like she knows people in high places. Like she’s able to get officials to turn the other way if something’s happening at her inn.”

  “What’s happened at the inn?”

  “Nothing as far as I’m aware.”

  “Then why? Never mind. Any news from my family?”

  Dara’s eyes softened. “It will take weeks, crazy friend. Your note should arrive sometime next month. International messages take time.”

  Elias closed his eyes. His parents were sure to be worried, but at least his message would reach them. Elias cursed under his breath and tried to get he worried frown of Varen’s father out of his head. “Why are you here, Dara?”

  “Oh. The Chief Disciple wants you to come in tomorrow, there are some issues at the market, and she wanted a merchant to have a look. Prices are fluctuating wildly, especially foodstuffs and there have been scuffles. Bloody ones.”

  “I’m sure there are plenty of local merchants willing to help your sect.” More than plenty if what Elias had gathered was true. People like Forest were oddities; most business owners would rabidly chase any opportunity to connect with sect disciples.

  “Local,” Dara stressed the word.

  “How lucky for me that I’ve arrived from so far away.” Elias laughed and adjusted his borrowed blade. “Should I bring a sword?”

  Dara smiled and tossed back his drink.