Winter Witch Read Online Free PDF Page B

ridiculous joke. Of course, Declan thought. In Korvosa, avowing one’s disinclination toward fame, wealth, or power would almost certainly be perceived as a deliberate absurdity.
    “You could almost persuade me of that,” Jamang said. “The Theumanexus was bad enough, but why you would leave it in favor of the university is beyond my comprehension.”
    “The University of Korvosa has a fine art school.”
    The necromancer pursed his lips. “I suppose I can see your attraction to art, all things considered, but why astronomy?”
    “Why do you care?” Declan said.
    “Perhaps I presume upon our friendship,” said Jamang. “That alone would not excuse my curiosity, but something your brother said preys upon my mind.”
    “What about my brother?” growled Declan.
    Jamang was oblivious to Declan’s mood, or pretended so. “Asmonde took the study of magic seriously. He once told me that you both swore to pursue the art—swore at your mother’s deathbed, no less.”
    Declan clamped his mouth shut. That was not a subject he wished to discuss with anyone, least of all Jamang.
    Undeterred, Jamang pressed on. “You are not the sort to abandon an oath, I think. Where have you been studying, and with whom?”
    Declan folded his arms. “My situation is exactly as it appears. I’m learning the entirely unmagical art of reading the night skies.”
    “But why? Art? Astronomy? What on earth do they have in common?”
    “Maps,” Declan said.
    Jamang frowned in puzzlement.
    “Korvosans are known across Avistan as an adventurous breed. Adventurers require maps, and I intend to provide them. Knowledge of the stars is a necessary part of my training in cartography.”
    “Cartography!” said Jamang. “You’re learning a trade ?” He blanched at the last word, as if he had bitten into an apple and found half of a wriggling grub.
    Declan shrugged.
    He watched in silence as Jamang’s face contorted in a struggle between disbelief and distaste. Declan noted the soft rustle of vines and glanced toward the pergola. The house drake perched on the edge of the lattice roof, his eyes bright with avarice as he studied the newcomer.
    Declan knew what the little creature wanted. Dairy farmers had cats, and Korvosan innkeepers had house drakes. His family ran the Frisky Unicorn, a small inn famous for its tall, slim turret and the drakes that nested there. More curious than cats and more acquisitive than ravens, the tiny dragons gathered in places frequented by strangers, where jewels were worn and coins exchanged. For the most part, the Unicorn’s winged residents left the guests in peace, but some of the creatures were accomplished thieves. This little blue dragon, a relative newcomer, could make the slickest pickpockets weep with envy.
    Declan brought to mind an image of Jamang’s silver amulet and gave the little drake a subtle shake of his head.
    The drake’s whimper of disappointment echoed through Declan’s thoughts.
    Want , he said emphatically.
    Can’t have , Declan sent back. It is unwise to steal from a necromancer.
    Nasty necromancers.
    Declan could not dispute the assessment.
    “It’s about your brother’s death, isn’t it?” said Jamang at last. Before Declan could answer, Jamang placed a ring-laden hand on his shoulder. “There’s no stigma attached to you, if that’s what concerns you. Many of the students who begin at the Acadamae don’t survive to graduation. This is not only inevitable but necessary.”
    Declan stepped back. “I certainly hope you don’t intend to assure me that Asmonde’s body was put to use in the necromantic laboratories.”
    The necromancer raised both hands in a placating gesture. “You know how things are done.”
    “I don’t want any part of ‘how things are done’ like that.”
    “Instead you want to draw maps?” Jamang sneered. “Perhaps you fancy yourself a Jeggare?”
    The name was one of Varisia’s oldest and most famous families, but in this context Declan