Page 77 of Awakened Ash and Alchemy

No, she didn’t. “But I do repair books.”

“Cool.” He shoved the last of the chocolate into his mouth then dusted his hands off. “Maybe I’ll go see if my mom can put together a care package for you. That way you’ll have something familiar to do while you’re adjusting.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, but unnecessary.”

“Hey, we take care of our own. You’re under the Captain’s protection, so that makes you family.”

Family. She glanced down at the second candy bar. Now she knew why she’d kept it, and for who. “Um, so can I ask what is your magick?”

“Strength.” He grinned and flexed one of his huge arms.

“I see. Do you do bodybuilding contests?”

“Nah. But my other magick is reading magic.”

“How so?”

“I can feel it.” He held out his palm. “I can tell when, where, and which wizard touched that book last.”

“And me?”

He curled his fingers into his palm and stepped away from her, ripping open another chocolate bar and taking a bite.

“Let me guess. Nothing?”

He shrugged.

“And what do the others do?”

“The Sworn Exarchs?”

She nodded.

“Well, you know the Captain’s.”

“Fire, and mind, which doesn’t work on me.”

“Kind of like how I can’t read your magick.”

“Get in line. I think we’ve had every wizard in the Keep test me.”

“Better than the Council testing you,” he mumbled under his breath. “Rocharde—”

“He’s the one with the gold earring?”

Condorr nodded. “He does this neat thing with gravity.”

“How so?” She leaned back against the shelves, in the first casual conversation she’d had in ages, over nothing more than a candy bar. It was so normal, like standing in a coffee shop with that regular customer you see in the same line almost daily, where she never got past the small talk stage.

“Rocharde can compress gravity, push it down, and lock the veyll.”

“Compressing gravity? That sounds terrifying.”

“Very handy in battle. Oh, and sometimes he can read memories on touch, which is great for tracking things.” Condorr wolfed down the last of the candy bar, scrunched up the wrapper, and hid it in his pocket. Then he reached for another book, filled with more bars, and started loading up his pockets. “Bellus is our historian.”

“The one with the glasses?”

“That’s him. You two would get along.”