Page 33 of Daughter of No Worlds

“Not that kind of scandal, sadly.”

He shot Max a questioning look, then took a step forward and leaned over the table, extending a hand to me. “Sammerin. Whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?” His voice was low and smooth, deep but inviting and gentle.

It took me just long enough to be awkward to realize that I was supposed to grasp his hand. This was not a common greeting in Threll. “Tisaanah.”

“This is my apprentice,” Max said. He hadn’t stopped eating through this exchange. “At least, so they tell me.”

Sammerin straightened, his eyebrows jumping. “She’s your apprentice?”

Every single word is that small sentence was emphasized in a different way, communicating a different meaning.

“She’syour apprentice?” Translation:She’s a Valtain, and a Fragmented one for good measure.

“She’s yourapprentice?”Translation:She’s way too old for this.

“She’syourapprentice?” Translation:They gotyouto take an apprentice?

It was oddly comforting, the way these things transcended language. And that I could hear those little nuances in Aran just as I did in Thereni.

Max sighed. “Yes, apparently.”

Sammerin seemed stunned by this, his brow wrinkling thoughtfully. Then it smoothed as offered me a small smile. “It’s lovely to meet you, Tisaanah. I’m sorry that you’ve been saddled with such an unpleasant mentor.”

I liked him.

Max jerked upright, leaning to peer around Sammerin’s body at the doorway. “What did I tell you? No apprentices allowed in the house!”

“You just said thatshe’s an apprentice,” a wavering, lisped voice replied. I craned my neck to see a boy standing behind Sammerin, perhaps twelve years old, chubby with a mopped head of curly blond hair.

“This one won’t leave, so it appears that I’m stuck with her. But if she broke as many of my things as you did, I’d banish her, too.”

“I’m sorry about the spyglass, it was—”

Sammerin looked down at the boy. “Why don’t you go outside and practice today’s lesson? I won’t be here long.”

“But—”

“Moth.” The patience in Sammerin’s voice was so threadbare that it sounded within seconds of tearing.

The child sighed. “Fine,” he huffed, then retreated into the garden. Sammerin shut the door behind him, letting out a low, exasperated breath as he sank into a chair.

“That boy. You have no idea.”

I had some idea.

“I have some idea,” Max said.

“Five and a half years left.” Sammerin eyed the bottle of wine. Max poured him a glass and slid it across the table.

Sammerin straightened as he turned back to me, as if he was trying to shake off his frustration. “So, Tisaanah. Tell me about yourself.” He was so soft-spoken that I found myself leaning closer in order to hear him. I wondered if this was intentional.

“Nura justlefther here yesterday,” Max grumbled.

“My question was not directed at you.” Sammerin gave Max a withering look, then turned a much more pleasant gaze to me, waiting politely.

Yes, I decided, I definitely liked him.

“I must apprentice for joining the Orders. Max is the only one who can do it. So I am here.”

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