The Thorn of Dentonhill Read Online Free

it to lecture on time.” Professor Alimen stood at the slate board, looking stately in his blue professorial robe. He was an older man, though fit and lean. He kept his gray hair and beard cropped short, and his green eyes had very few lines around them for his age. The sleeves of his robe were rolled up, revealing his strong forearms and the tattoo on his left arm. The tattoo, of the letters L and P surrounded by flame, showed his membership in Lord Preston’s Circle.
    â€œWe don’t want to miss a minute, Professor,” Veranix said.
    â€œSurely,” Alimen said. “Upper gallery, gentlemen.”
    Veranix and Delmin went up the narrow spiral stairs to the gallery above the lecture floor, joining the score of students already standing there. Many of them were specifically Third-Year Magic students, like Veranix and Delmin, but several were students of other disciplines, taking Alimen’s Advanced Mystical Theory lecture to round out their education. The University Board insisted that all students take several lectures outside of their field of Mastery.
    â€œVery good, then,” Professor Alimen said. “As the bells have rung, and we are all assembled, let us begin. Today we will start a new chapter, as laid out in your texts, exploring the mystical nature of . . .”
    Veranix looked at the assembly standing in the upper gallery, taking in the wide variety of caps and scarves. He was always amazed that so many students who couldn’t do magic would want to learn about magic theory. Theory was a waste of his time, and Alimen’s lectures were dry and dull. Despite that, Veranix attended every lecture dutifully. He owed Professor Alimen too much to do otherwise.
    He slipped his hand inside his jacket pocket, feeling for the stolen papers. He was getting anxious to know just what he had. As his fingers touched the sheets, they made a slight crinkling sound. Delmin glanced over at him.
    â€œWhat’re you doing?” he whispered.
    â€œNothing,” Veranix said, pulling his hand out. “Had an itch.”
    â€œScratch later,” someone on Veranix’s other side hissed at him.
    Veranix sighed. He’d have to wait.
    Professor Alimen droned on.
    Two more hours of this. He leaned against the support beam and did his best to keep his focus on the lecture.

    â€œMister Calbert!”
    Veranix snapped out of his doze. His face was uncomfortably pressed against the support beam. There was no hiding that he had fallen asleep.
    â€œYes, Professor Alimen?” he asked. Blinking to clear his eyes, he looked down to the lecture floor. Alimen was glaring up at him, holding a small rock in his hand. Veranix had the idea that the professor was of the mind to throw it at his head.
    â€œPerhaps you would care to help me demonstrate?”
    â€œYes, of course, Professor,” Veranix said.
    â€œCome down here, then, Mister Calbert.”
    Veranix pushed his way through the other students on the upper gallery to get to the stairs. Each step creaked and groaned as he went down. He suddenly had the wild urge to jump down from the balcony. He could have done it easily, managing a double or even a triple flip before making a perfect landing, bringing gasps of amazement and thunderous applause from the crowd. He missed those sounds sometimes. He quickly stifled the urge. It was best that no one knew he could do that, as they would surely ask where he’d learned it.
    Veranix wracked his brain to think of what he was about to help demonstrate. What was the lecture about again? Something about minerals and mystic properties. He stepped out onto the floor, very aware of all the eyes on him.
    Professor Alimen was smiling far too broadly for Veranix’s comfort. “Excellent, Mister Calbert. Now, if you could just take the dalmatium.”
    Veranix took the rock. It was heavier than he expected, cool to the touch. It was a chunk of metal, not stone.
    â€œNow,