Free Thief’s Magic by Trudi Canavan Page B

don’t know. What do I get if I don’t?”
    “I won’t tell anyone about the gold poible you sold.”
    To Tyen’s relief, Miko laughed. “Fair enough. Your secret’s safe with me.”
    For the next hour they worked at their desks in companionable silence. All the Beetle needed was a few screws tightened and a bit of oil, so after that was done Tyen turned his attention to finishing one of the arachnids that were so popular with prank-playing students, and a musical hoverfly commission for a professor’s daughter.
    He was halfway through the latter when a faint chime signalled mealtime. With Beetle in his pocket and Vella tucked into his jacket, Tyen followed Miko downstairs to find Neel sipping some plain soup and nibbling at a piece of bread. The whore’s drug had upset Neel’s sensitive digestion. While he said he was feeling better, Tyen guessed he was not being entirely truthful.
    “Well then,” Miko said as he and Tyen finished their meals. “If you’re well enough for dinner, you’re well enough to do some labelling and cataloguing.”
    Neel winced. “I…”
    “I think we can let him have another night off,” Tyen said firmly, kicking his friend under the table. “One for recovery, one in lieu of an apology.”
    Miko looked as if he might argue, then sighed and got to his feet. “All right. Only one night, though,” he told Neel, then jabbed a thumb in Tyen’s direction and grinned. “After that you start owing me for leaving me stuck alone with him.”
    “Hey!” Tyen protested as he stood up.
    Neel managed a smile, and made a shooing motion. “Off with you. The sooner you get there, the less work for me to come back to.”
    Grabbing Miko’s elbow, Tyen guided him out of the dining room before he decided to drag Neel along anyway. They made their way through the Academy to the collections wing, where Professor Kilraker was waiting for them in the storeroom allocated to him on his return.
    “Neel still sick?” Kilraker asked, his thin eyebrows lowering in concern.
    “Reckons he is,” Miko replied.
    “Yes,” Tyen added. “Not as ill as last night, but his digestion is still uneasy.”
    Kilraker shrugged and gestured to two boxes on a nearby table. “Well, there’s not much left to record so the two of you should get through most of it tonight.” He opened the first of the boxes and they began unwrapping the contents. All of the items were spherical and etched with ancient writing and pictures – versions of the same kind of artefact Miko had kept and sold. Some were wooden, some clay, some stone, and a few were made of precious metals.
    “Strange,” Kilraker said as he dug through the remaining packing material in the box. “I was sure there was another gold one.”
    “Not this one?” Miko said, picking up another, plainer, gold poible.
    Kilraker shook his head. “I recall a fancier one. I hope it wasn’t mislaid or fell out during our rushed exit.”
    “Didn’t Drem drop a box at one point? Neel said something about it.”
    Kilraker narrowed his eyes at Miko. “No.”
    Miko ducked his head and lowered his eyes. “I didn’t mean to suggest that Drem was clumsy. He is nothing less than the most competent servant.”
    The sharpness in the professor’s gaze eased. “I will ask him if he recalls a gold poible. Possibly he—” A knock interrupted him. Looking up at the storeroom door, he waved at the poibles, boxes, labels, measuring devices, catalogue and pen on the table and stood up. “Make a start.”
    Tyen pulled the catalogue and pen over while Miko picked up the most humble of the poibles, made from crumbling unfired clay. The storeroom door clicked open. Hearing a familiar voice, Tyen glanced over his shoulder. Professor Delly, the head of the sorcery department, stepped into the room.
    “Number two-oh-nine,” Miko said. “Clay poible.” Tyen added the details to the catalogue book.
    Miko started to measure the diameter with a calliper and in the pause Tyen