“Slen Qaros,” the professor said, holding the cup.
Throwing one more furious glance at Yusef, Slen went to drink. There was no visible reaction on her face, but the professor was searching for something. How exactly would they fail this? Would their eyes turn red like a vampire who fed on ungraduated actis?
When it was Kidan’s turn, her confusion grew even more. It really did look likewater. She couldn’t help but think this test was more psychological than preternatural. The water glided down her throat, a little sweet.
“Good,” the dean said after a moment. “You may continue. I have other things to attend to.”
Dean Faris left. The professor began instructing them to head to the Philosophy Tower but Kidan wasn’t listening.
It was that sound again, a soft, familiar hum.
Like a woman singing.
Her attention fell to the bowl. Was the glass causing some sort of vibration? Kidan was amazed by the architecture of it, almost oval, but not quite. Her Object Deconstruction textbook said all objects spoke to one another, glass was once sand, and sand was once earth and earth held traces of metal.
She lifted her finger to trace the unnaturally smooth glass, across the chaos of symbols visible on the bottom, trying to draw out the shapes.
Professor Andreyas materialized before her, catching her hand. She jumped a step back, but he held firm.
“We are finished here.” His ancient eyes were assessing her closely, lingering on her hand.
His grip was terrifyingly strong. A chill skittered down her spine. She could feel both Slen and Yusef had frozen too.
“Do not touch objects carelessly, Kidan.” His black eyes held a pinprick of red.
It was the first time he’d used her first name. And oddly, he did not sound cold but full of warning, like a father telling a child not to venture into the dark forest.
His grasp was near painful, and she tugged until he let go.
“Meet me at the tower,” he said in dismissal. “All of you.”
Kidan tried to shake off his intense gaze and walked away, ignoring the Lasi bowl and its song.
Back in their gloomy tower, a severe look possessed their professor’s ancient features. “Here is our final education. Lesson three on mastering laws. A house law cannot be changed without being broken.”
Kidan wrote those words down, read them again, and frowned. She waited for further explanation.
“You should all remember what I said about the house and its master being one. It is the master that manifests their will—their one law—throughout the house.”
They nodded.
“You should also remember the Last Sage created the houses to teach and discipline humans, so as to not abuse this incredible power. As such, a law always applies to his master first. He is first bound by the very thing he casts upon others.”
Anticipation strangled her with each word. Kidan sensed a bigger reveal coming.
“If a master of the house breaks their own house law, two things happen: One, it becomes permanent in the outside world.”
“Permanent?” Kidan interrupted without thought. “But a given law only works inside the house.”
Professor Andreyas’s eyes remained guarded. “Yes, until a law is broken by its master, at which point it becomes permanent outside the house.”
Kidan’s eyes bulged. All this time they’d been under the impression laws were confined to their own houses. Slen had leaned forward as well, surprised.
Yusef shook his head, a frown fixed on his face. “Hold on, sir. If my law is… ‘Anyone who tells a lie in my house, will lose their ability to speak—’” His face grew animated as he tried to explain his thinking. “Kidan comes over to my house, lies, and loses her ability to talk, that’ll only happen in Umil House. If she leaves my house, she can speak freely.”
Though she didn’t like being used as an example for lying, Kidan appreciated the clarity it was giving her.
Yusef focused on the professor, voice straining a little. “But ifI,as the master of Umil House,lie,which means I’ve broken my own law… you’re saying I’ll lose my ability to speak forever?”