Abaddon's Gift

Chapter Forty-Four

The stream of conscious thought through Maeno's mind as he left Theon's rooms was nothing more than a bunch of curses and a rolling scream that rose and fell. He went right to Trathor's office and presented the letter to Trathor's woman.

The one who sat the desk outside of Trathor's office and guarded it from nosy intruders.

She didn't even look at the letter, just handed it back to him, and motioned to the door.

He thanked her, aware that sometimes a little honey got him further than no honey at all. As he entered, he found strangers in Trathor's study. The dean grunted at him and held a hand out. Maeno handed over the writ from Theon. The dean snatched the paper from him and read it, grey eyebrows drawing down as he did.

"This is meant for you," Trathor snapped, holding it out to the oldest of the two visitors.

The man was dressed in rich emerald green. He had angular features and a large nose yet somehow wore both well. His eyes darkened as he read the writ. He handed it back to Trathor.

"Seal it."

Trathor grunted and signed the bottom of the writ before handing it back. The man looked at it, then grunted and glanced at the younger man beside him.

"Witness."

"Aye," the younger man said before he turned to Trathor. "Witness."

"Aye," Trathor responded.

The man signed the bottom of the writ and handed it to the younger man.

"Nendan, I bequeath this issue upon you."

"Thank you, father," Nendan said, accepting the writ. "You will come with me."

It took Maeno about a moment to realize Nendan spoke to him. Then he kind of grunted and followed the man out of Trathor's office. He followed Nendan all the way to the elemental area of the university, where Nendan handed the writ over to Nurdon, the elemental mage who sat the school's coven.

"No," Nurdon said.

"Why not?" Nendan asked.

"Not no to this, boy," Nurdon growled. "No to you being here."

"Same question, more confusion."

"Don't you know that no one is allowed to have names which sound similar?" Nurdon demanded. "It's the law."

"It is not the law," Nendan said sternly as if chastising someone who joked too often.

"Then, having the same letters—"

"No," Nendan said firmly.

Nurdon gave a little chuckling snort. He glanced at Maeno.

"I tease him, but we've known each other for some time," Nurdon said. "Maeno, this is Nendan Lugh, heir to the Lugh family. Likely he has not introduced himself as he tends not to do that."

"Lugh?" Maeno asked.

Nurdon held up the writ.

"You've asked for a griever, you timed your request well. The Lord and heir were visiting as part of their investigation."

"Not quite," Nendan said. "We are required to step down per the word of the Lord of the Seven. My father brought me here for my magehood."

Nurdon stared at Nendan.

"And you grace my halls with a name like mine, with two syllables such as mine, with a name so familiar to my own that they might be mistaken were we to write out the history of these facts?" Nurdon demanded.