The Magic Engineer Read Online Free PDF Page A

a lack of interest, you’ll be asked to leave. Most people who leave here without finishing the course end up somewhere in Nordla or Candar, depending on the available shipping.”
    “…that’s exile…” The whispered words are clear in the stillness.
    “That’s correct,” affirms Lortren. “For those of you who have not figured it out, the Academy is all that stands between you and exile. In even clearer terms, the Academy prepares you for a controlled exile from which you can return—if you survive and if you choose.”
    Dorrin senses the indrawn breaths and slow exhalations.
    “What kinds of things will we be doing?” Brede’s overloud voice crashes through the silence.
    “Your studies will concentrate on three things—the study of order and chaos; the basic history and cultures of Candor, Nordla, Afrit, and Recluce; and physical training. What is expected of you will be covered in greater detail in your first meeting tomorrow morning.” Lortren smiles grimly. “Most of you will discover how little you really know.” She pauses. “Are there any other questions?”
    Dorrin frowns. Lortren will not answer more than she wants to, and she has said all she plans to say.
    “Dinner is waiting. This one time, I’ll show you the way. The meal times are also on your schedule board.” The black-clad magistra is leaving by the time Dorrin stands.
    “Kadara…?” he begins, but she too has moved out of earshot of his soft inquiry. He hastens after the others, ending up behind the girl in the red-orange shirt, so close that his left boot catches her sandal.
    “I’m sorry.”
    She turns with her hand on the door, revealing deep blue eyes that twinkle for a moment. “That’s all right. I’m Jyll. Who are you?”
    “Ah…Dorrin…”
    She steps through the doorway, and Dorrin follows. Kadara is already leaving the foyer. Several others, including Brede, stand by the schedule board and puzzle over the schedule printed there. Jyll and Dorrin join them.
    “Is ‘Order’ fundamentals?”
    “…how much physical training…”
    Looking over the shoulder of the short and broad blond youth whose question was cut short by Lortren, Dorrin scans the schedule, his eyes drifting to a small map in the corner. He finds the dark oblong labeled “Dining,” then steps away. Jyll steps away with him.
    Outside he checks the walkways and starts uphill, north of the student quarters, where two other figures are entering. “I think that’s where we’re supposed to go.”
    “I’m sure someone will tell us if it’s not.” Jyll tilts her head, and her fine, dark brown hair, cut squarely at chin level, fluffs in the late afternoon breeze, then settles back.
    Halfway to the dining building, Dorrin asks, “Where are you from?”
    “Land’s End, like most of us.”
    “Brede’s from the Feyn area.”
    “Brede?”
    “The big blond fellow with the deep voice.”
    “He looks like a farmer or a Nordlan warrior.”
    “He could probably be either, but he’s sharper than he looks.”
    Jyll smiles. “Why did they send you here?”
    “I kept telling my father that I wanted to build machines.”
    “That’s scarcely grounds for exile.” She purses her lips. “Unless you really just wanted to build them for yourself.”
    Dorrin flushes, but steps under the overhanging porch roof of the dining building and opens the door for Jyll.
    “Thank you.”
    Dorrin also holds the second door. The room contains six large circular wooden tables. At the far end of the room are two open doorways through which Dorrin can see the kitchen. A long serving table is set perhaps two cubits from the wall holding the doorways. Several of the other students from the introductory meetings are loading plates from the serving table.
    Lortren sits at one of the tables, along with a thin older man, two other older students, Kadara, and the thin and gangly black-haired youth.
    “You know her?” asks Jyll, her eyes focused on Kadara.
    “Kadara? She