“Of which you are one, I believe,” Abelard said dryly. “In the long run, I need someone without an agenda of his own who can dispose of gifted adversaries if need be.”

Han pushed up from his chair, feeling a little sick. “No thanks.”

Abelard leaned her head back and looked down her nose at him. “Did you think you were being given a choice?” she said softly.

Han was already turning toward the door, but he swung back around to face her. “There’s always a choice.”

“You can cooperate with me, learn everything you can, and act on my orders. Or be expelled from Mystwerk House and sent back to the Fells for hanging.”

“Expelled?” Han blurted, his mouth going dry as ashes. “For what?”

“Had we known we were harboring a wanted criminal, we would not have admitted you in the first place.”

Well. It was a choice—between two nasty options.

“Why are you so interested in me?” Han asked. “Why would you drag someone kicking and screaming into your crew?”

“Because it’s unlikely you work for Gavan Bayar,” Abelard said. “Or ever will. He will never forgive you for trying to kill him. Ever. You’d better hope that I win.”

Just because you’re the enemy of my enemy don’t mean you’re my friend, Han thought. But he kept shut on that.

“Despite your upbringing, your language, your history, there’s also something almost aristocratic about you,” the dean said. “Maybe it’s only arrogance, but I think you could learn to maneuver at court, with a little training. I don’t need a street thug. I need someone who can move in those circles.”

She also wants a tool, Han thought. Someone who will never be accepted by her blueblood friends, someone who has to depend on her handouts for survival.

He eyed Abelard, thinking fast. He’d never been one to make long-term plans, and lately his life had been all about buying time. He needed time at Oden’s Ford to build his skills in wizardry, and protection from his many enemies.

The extra classes couldn’t hurt, either. Abelard could provide that, at least until she found out he’d been playing her. When that happened, he’d still be better off with more weapons.

How many times can I pledge my services before my gang lords catch on?

“All right,” he said, shrugging. “I’m in.”

Dean Abelard smiled. “I knew you were a smart boy,” she said.

“On one condition.”

Abelard lifted her plucked eyebrows, registering amazement. “Which is?”

Han meant to make his point with the Bayars. He needed to prevent retaliation after.

“The Bayar twins and their cousins have been dogging me because of what I did to their father,” Han said. He touched his swollen cheekbone. “They tried to kill me this afternoon—for the second time. I an’t the most patient person. I need you to put a stop to it. Unless you want me to hush them right now, which I will do if need be.”