Page 72 of The Deadliest Candidate

“Assuredly not,” Lautric said with a soft laugh. He leaned back against the edge of Fern’s escritoire and ran his hand distractedly through his hair. “What now?”

Fern glanced down at the notes. “Well, we’ve whittled the summoners down. Now we select the most powerful out of all of them.”

It took them an hour to decide who to shortlist. Though not knowledgeable, Lautric was malleable and elastic throughout their discussion. He was far from the ideal partner to have, and Fern still held firm the belief that Lautric was woefully under-qualified compared to some of the other candidates, but there were some advantages to having him for a partner.

For example, where Fern always worried about all the research shehadn’tdone and all the knowledge shedidn’thave, Lautric was content to make a decision based solely on what they had in front of them and gut feeling.

It was, to Fern’s tired, overly analytical brain, almost refreshing.

They eventually settled on Iago Zestra, a great summoner renowned for pioneering some of history’s most ambitious summonings. Famously, he had summoned an army for a Byzantine emperor, hundreds of soldiers made from shadow and mud, and he was also known for his more grandiose, theatrical summonings, such as showers of stars and celestial circles.

For the assignment, Fern and Lautric chose the final spell in Iago Zestra’s career. A spell named Circle of Angels, sometimes called Guardian Circle when used practically. Zestra’s most ambitious and grandiose spell.

Many believed it was a reworking and combination of myriads of other incantations, and some believed it was a Sumbra incantation he’d gained through dubious dealings with a Gateway’s entity; Zestra had a bleeding trail of dead wives and children in his wake, and died with no heir aside from his spells.

“It’s a complex incantation,” Lautric said thoughtfully. Night had fallen outside, rain slashing grey and loud against the windows of the Invocation Wing, almost drowning out his quiet voice. “A lot of parts. Can we perfect it in time?”

Fern worried her lips with her teeth, then gestured at the papers and books spread out across both their desks.

“Well, the incantations are complex, but we’ll have our notes. The Grand Archivists will almost certainly value our research over our recitations. Not all of them are great mages, but all of them are great scholars. Besides…” She hesitated and cast Lautric a sidelong glance. “The incantation is the least of my worries.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“My reserves,” Fern said. “They might not be enough for me to draw from.”

Lautric shook his head and took her hand in his, startling her. “Don’t worry. I can help with that.”

Fern pulled her arm back sharply, snatching her hand from his grip. “How?”

“The same way I did last time.” Lautric tilted his head. “You know I won’t harm you.”

“I don’t think you’re going to harm me,” said Fern. It was mostly true. “I want to knowhow.”

“You don’t trust me,” Lautric said with a sigh.

Fern gave a tight smile. “Give me a reason to.” She leaned forward, eyes on his. “It’s not possible to share power with somebody else, and yet you gave me power, somehow, enough of it to last me days. I can’t think of any spell that could do such a thing. How did you do it?”

“I didn’t give youmypower.”

Fern frowned. “But you gave mesomething.”

“Yes. I gave you Wild Magic.”

She remembered their conversation in the Sumbra Wing after the first assignment—it seemed so long ago now. Lautric had spoken of Wild Magic, of how it was the future, a superior form of magic to spellcraft. At the time, Fern had assumed he was lying, for the Lautrics relied too much on spellcraft. Now, she didn’t know what to believe.

“It can’t be controlled,” she said with a frown. “So how can it be harnessed? That’s impossible.”

“No, not harnessed—channelled. You need a conduit, something for it to pass through.”

Fern was silent for a moment, eyes wide. Lautric seemed completely serious. He had not been lying about his interest in Wild Magic, and now Fern wished she had asked him more. She had assumed his dishonesty at the cost of learning from him, and by doing so, put her prejudice before her scholarly curiosity.

“What conduit could possibly be powerful enough for Wild Magic?” she said.

“The human body,” Lautric said. He hesitated. “Sometimes.”

Fern narrowed her eyes. “What you’re telling me is that you used your body as a conduit to channel Wild Magic from the source to me?”

Lautric nodded. “Yes.”

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