digit. A Privileged uses his strong hand—most often his right—to call upon the auras of that which he wants to manipulate in the Else. He uses his off hand to direct those auras once they have been pulled into our world.”
“So how does a powder mage’s magic work?”
“Bugger if I know. Privileged hate powder mages, and the cabals have always discouraged a study of them.”
“Why such a strong hate?” Adamat had heard most Privileged were allergic to gunpowder.
“Fear,” Uskan said. “Most Privileged’s spells have a range of less than a half mile. Powder mages can shoot from over twice that. The cabals have never liked being at a disadvantage. I’ve also been told that whereas all things, living or dead or elemental, have auras in the Else, gunpowder does not, and that makes Privileged nervous. Ah, here we are.”
Uskan paused in front of a bookcase. He ran his finger along several spines before taking them out and piling them into Adamat’s arms. Dust rose as the books thumped against each other. “Only one missing,” Uskan said. “I know just where it is, too. The vice-chancellor’s office.”
“Can we get it?”
“The vice-chancellor is away, summoned to Adopest early this morning with some urgency. I don’t have a key to his office. We’ll have to wait until he gets back.”
They retired to one of the tables with their stacks of books and set to their research. Adamat sat down and flipped open the first book. He frowned. “Uskan?”
“Hmm?” Uskan looked over. He leapt to his feet and rounded the table, moving faster than Adamat had ever seen him. “What is this? Who the pit did this?”
The first several pages of the book had been removed, and dozens after that had whole sections of the text blacked out, as if someone had dipped their finger in ink and smudged it along the page. Uskan mopped at his forehead with a handkerchief and began pacing behind Adamat.
“These books are invaluable,” he said. “Who would do such a thing?”
Adamat leaned forward and squinted at the ripped line of the paper. He judged the book in his hands. It was made with vellum, thicker than today’s paper and four times as tough. The ripped edge was slightly blackened.
“A Privileged,” Adamat said.
“How can you tell?”
Adamat pointed to the ripped edge. “Do you know of anything besides sorcery that could make a burn like that without damaging the rest of the book?”
Uskan resumed pacing. “A Privileged! Kresimir damn them. They should know the value of books!”
“I think they do,” Adamat said. “Else they would have burned the whole thing. Let’s take a look at the rest here.” He reached for the next book, and then the next. Of the eleven they’d removed from the shelf, seven had passages smudged or had pages ripped out. By the time they finished the stack, Uskan was fuming.
“Wait till the vice-chancellor finds out! He’ll head straight down to Skyline and beat those Privileged senseless, he’ll—”
“Tamas has executed the entire cabal.”
Uskan froze. His nostrils flared in and out, his lips bunched in a fierce frown. “I suppose there will be no redress for this, then.”
Adamat shook his head. “Let’s take a look at what we have.”
They spent some time with the books and they found eight different places where smudged writing could have been references to Kresimir’s Promise. Yet the passages were indecipherable.
“That last book,” Adamat said. “The one in the vice-chancellor’s office…?”
“Yes,” Uskan said absently, scratching his head. “ ‘In Service of the King.’ It outlines the duties of the royal cabals in their protection of the kings of the Nine. A very famous work.”
Adamat smoothed the front of his coat. “Let’s see if he left his door unlocked.”
Uskan returned the books and chased Adamat out into the courtyard of the library. “He won’t have left it unlocked,” he said. “Let’s just wait until he gets back. The vice-chancellor is a private sort of man.”
“I’m on an investigation,” Adamat said as he entered the main administration building.
“That doesn’t mean you have the right to look through other people’s studies,” Uskan said. “Besides, the door will be locked.” He smiled triumphantly at Adamat when the doorknob rattled but did not turn in Adamat’s hand.
“No matter,” Adamat said. He crouched down and removed the tiny set of lockpicks he kept in one boot. Uskan’s eyes grew wide.
“What? No, you can’t do that!”
“When did you say the vice-chancellor will be back?”
“Not until late,” Uskan said. “I…” He realized his mistake at once as Adamat began fiddling