The Magician: An Epic Dark Fantasy Novel: Book One of the Rogue Portal Series Read Online Free Page B

know?"
                  Connor offered an amused smile. Stuart sounded like an advertisement for the psych department.
                  "Yeah, that's what I was thinking, but. I don't know. Sometimes I wonder if I just don't want to handle it at all. If I even want to immerse myself into more of the same, you know?"
                  "That's something to consider, as well." Stuart creased his brow and bit his bottom lip in contemplation.
                  "I guess that's what general education is for, no?" Connor said.
                  Stuart laughed. "Yes, I suppose it is."
                  The daylight that had poured through the windows began to fade with unforgiving speed, though that was typical for western Washington. Connor rose to turn on the desk lamp.
                  "You have a class tomorrow?" Connor asked.
                  Stuart nodded in reply. "Yes, I have um...let's see..."
                  He pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper from his back pocket and furrowed his brow, using a long pointer finger to assist him in scanning the information until he found what he needed.
                  "Oh, yes. Chem 101 with Dr. Rumsfeld."
                  Connor pulled out his list of classes from the desk and scanned them.
                  "Hey, me, too!"
                  "Really?"
                  "Yeah, I had to take a beginning science class so I chose chemistry. Physics isn't really my strong suit, but I've always been pretty good at math and experiments, so I figured chemistry would be okay."
                  "You'll do great, I'm sure. Plus we can study together for exams."
                  The last part felt more like a question than a statement, and Connor smiled.
                  "That would be great. I'm sure I could use your help."
                  Stuart beamed. "Well, I can try."
                  Connor gave a cavernous yawn, surprised at how exhausted he was thought it was only six o'clock. They worked at unpacking the rest of their belongings for the next several hours in relative silence. By eleven-thirty they'd each been unpacked for an hour or two and Connor examined the pocket watch while Stuart read. Finally, the weights on his eyelids proved too heavy.
                  "I suppose we should hit the hay." Connor said.
                  Stuart looked at him over the top of his book with a raised eyebrow. "Sorry?"
                  Connor had stood to turn down his bed, and looked over his shoulder at Stuart. He burst out in laughter at the quizzical expression on his face.
                  "Sorry, it's an expression. It means to go to bed. Hit the hay. You know, like on a farm."
                  Stuart's face relaxed into laughter. "Oh, yes. I understand now. Very good."
                  Connor shook his head, amused. He walked over and shut the door to their room, turned back, and changed into sweatpants and a white tank top. It was only September, but already the Northwest winter chill had settled in.
                  Making his bed, he slipped beneath the covers, pulled his blanket up under his chin, and rested his head on the pillow. I knew I was tired, but man, Connor thought. His body felt like a weight against the bed. Every muscle in his body screamed for rest, and the second he allowed himself to relax he felt relaxation overcome him like a powerful drug. 
                  As though to confirm Connor's feelings, Stuart said "You don't realize how sleepy you are 'til you lay down."
                  Connor glanced over to find Stuart in bed on his side of the room.
                  "That's the truth," Connor responded, laughing.
                  "Well I'll see you in