Page 14 of Sonnets and Serpents
A moment of silence, and then a rush of footsteps to the door before Kerem threw it open. The top half of his black hair was pulled back in a ponytail to keep it out of his face, and he wore thin-rimmed spectacles over his dark eyes. Seeing Silas, he gave a rare smile.
“Silas! Oh, good. I know I wished you well and all that, but I hoped you’d return. You belong here.”
Silas offered a smile of his own, and when Kerem gestured, he stepped into the office. A dry, musty smell rose from the research shelves where Kerem kept snakeskin, fangs, and preserved bones, familiar and more comforting than it should have been.
While attending university, Silas had been Kerem’s research assistant in everything but name, and together with a Fluid Casting professor, they’d studied the properties and applications of snake venom. Kerem was well-known in Pravusat for developing a way of treating snake bites with antivenom. Revered though they might be, that didn’t stop venomous snakes from being deadly when crossed.
“Since when did you start locking your door?” Silas asked. He felt like he’d never left, yet at the same time, he’d been away too long.
“Oh.” Kerem waved a hand. “Precautions, I suppose.”
“I saw Iyal Havva’s door down the hall, with theyaslari.”
“Nothing like that,” Kerem said quickly. “It’s protection for my students, not me. I’ve had more dangerous materials on hand lately.”
“More dangerous than vipers and venoms?”
“The most dangerous vipers and venoms, then, let’s say. You’ll love this.” From a shelf, he snatched a vial containing fine white powder, like limestone dust. “Hold that, but don’t open it.”
With care, Silas turned the vial in his hands, examining the powder. “You didn’t,” he said, fighting a grin.
Kerem reclaimed the vial, lifting his spectacles to peer at it up close. “Powdered venom. Can you believe it? Mazhar was ready to give up when we finally got it.”
Silas’s shoulders drooped. “I’m gone a single month, and you make the breakthrough without me.”
Working with Kerem had been an unexpected bright spot in Silas’s university career. The research was thrilling and challenging, but the largest comfort lay in working alongside someone who truly understood Silas’s situation. Kerem wasn’t just a fellow Snake Affiliate, but in his youth, he’d been captured by Cronese slavers who traded Affiliates like exotic pets towealthy buyers. He knew what it was like to be targeted for magic, what it was like to almost die for it.
Kerem lowered his spectacles with a smirk. “Innovation is an ever-progressing river, you know that. But in this case, Mazhar did all the work; only a Fluid Caster could have dried the venom. Now that you’re back, let’s make the next innovation a feat of Affiliate magic, shall we?”
“I’d like that.” Silas swallowed. “I’m trying to make my stay permanent, but I need to speak to Afshin. When I left, I told Iyl Myrna to donate my things, but she said you claimed them.”
Kerem pointed to a closet on one side of the room. “I knew you’d be back, Silas. You belong here.”
It was the second time he’d said it, and it felt truer than ever, especially once Silas opened a chest to find his clothes and books tucked neatly inside. His old life in storage, just waiting for him to resume it.
This time, he wouldn’t look back.
Dressed in a proper suit—which, in Pravish fashion, was not a tailcoat but rather a heavy brocade jacket that extended almost to his knees—Silas made his way, at last, to the dean’s office.
Afshin resided on the fourth floor of the Yamakaz, directly beneath the center of the grandest dome. Like the building itself, his office had no corners or hard edges, only curved ceiling and walls, like open arms ready to embrace. The dean stood at a far shelf, murmuring as he rearranged books, as if looking for one that had been misplaced.
Iyal Afshin was a dark-haired man quickly graying, with more wrinkles than it seemed reasonable for his middle-aged face to hold, although anyone who knew him could attest they came from an excess of smiles rather than years.
Silas rapped the back of his knuckles against the open door, and the dean looked up, melting into his signature smile of prominent teeth.
“Our standout Loegrian pupil!” he said. He spoke Loegrian, since he preferred to speak to students in their native tongues. “Silas Bennett, back on Pravish shores.”
Afshin welcomed Silas in, striding over to meet him on the rug. He gave a forceful handshake and a shallow bow, which Silas returned.
“Iyal,” Silas greeted. It was the same respectful title given to every male professor, and the dean insisted he was no more important than anyone else at the university.
“I must say, Silas, I was hoping you’d go home and make some changes to that little country of yours. Maybe bring it out of the dark ages.”
Silas snorted. “You’d need a herd of elephants for that, and I’m just one snake.”
Afshin waved Silas over to a sitting corner with wide, flat cushions. Although he used his desk for working, it wasn’t where he preferred to hold council. Silas crossed his legs beneath him as he sat.
“Speaking of Loegria.” Afshin’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. “I’ve just today gained significant news.”
