Intrigues: Book Two of the Collegium Chronicles (a Valdemar Novel) Read Online Free Page B

least, if he had not overcome his instinctive reactions, he could finally reason his way past them.
    Regardless, everything about the impending meeting kept him distracted during a lesson that was not one of his best subjects. This was the language class, and language, with all of its rules about grammar and spelling—made no sense to him. Nothing about it was logical, and just when he thought he’d gotten a rule straight in his head, it all went out with some exception or other. And as for his spelling, well, it was . . . creative.
    This generally made for a long lesson at the best of times, and being preoccupied made it longer.
    At last the teacher dismissed them, though unfortunately with a writing assignment. Just what he needed, with his head all of a muddle. Mags wondered if Lena would help him put it together, and then wondered if he was going to be too busy trying to make up for what he’d done wrong to ask her.
    Once again, his mood dropped, and he had convinced himself that he was in trouble. He pulled his books together into his shoulder bag, suddenly wishing the lesson had been even longer. What could Caelen want?
    As he walked along the corridor, feeling as if he was under a dark cloud, and wondering if he should pretend he never gotten the note, he felt a familiar presence in the back of his head. :It’s probably not bad, you know,: his Companion assured him, :I would have warned you if I’d seen you doing anything that was that bad. But you aren’t going to find out unless you go.: There was an amused chuckle. :No matter what, you’ll muddle through. Besides, how do you know Caelen isn’t going to thank you for coming up with a good idea?:
    That was enough to lift his mood, at least a little. And give him enough courage to head for Caelen’s office and knock tentatively on the door.
    “Come in,” called Caelen through the door.
    Mags pushed it open. The block-like Herald was, as usual, rather buried in things on his desk. There were sheafs of papers stacked precariously around him, and it was impossible to tell which were things he was done with and which he had yet to work on. Mags blinked owlishly at the piles. How did Caelen ever get through all the work that was piled on him? Every time he thought that he was piled high with work, he would get a glimpse of what Caelen faced, and know that the work of a Trainee was nothing.
    Caelen looked up and gave Mags a warm smile, and then followed his gaze, and made a wry face. “Budgeting,” he sighed. He waved vaguely at the piles. “I have to account for every penny spent in Herald’s Collegium, and my procrastination has come back to bite me. Again.” He stabbed a finger at the paper in front of me. “It doesn’t help that I have no idea sometimes what I’m signing for. Here it says we ordered a bale of dried marrow root.” He rolled his eyes. “I have no idea what marrow root is, or, since this order is missing half of its information, where it came from. And yet, I have to sign to say it’s justified. And if someone comes to ask me what in heaven’s name I was thinking when I signed for it, I will be sitting here looking like a fool.”
    Mags peered at the paper. “Bear would prob’ly know,” he suggested, trying to be helpful.
    Caelen laughed. “Well, since he’s the one that put in the request for it, I sincerely hope so. I gather it is something that he feels would do you lot good in the winter.” He put aside the piece of paper, and looked Mags over. “You’re growing,” he noted, nodding approvingly. “It’s good to see you filling out, considering the size you were when you arrived. I won’t say you were the smallest Trainee we have ever had, but you were certainly the thinnest, and certainly the shortest for your age.”
    Mags looked down at himself. “Can’ really help it,” he said, shrugging. “Sorta happens all by itself.”
    The Herald rubbed his greying temples. “I suppose it does,” he replied with a nod.