Abelard nodded. “The limitations on magic and magical weapons, the restrictions on wizards politically, it makes us weak—too weak to defend ourselves. Many of us believe that the wars in Arden will spread to the rest of the Seven Realms. Here at the Ford we are particularly vulnerable, having no barrier of mountains to protect us.”

“I’ve heard that,” Han said, wondering why the powerful dean of Mystwerk House was delivering this little speech to the likes of him.

“The Valefolk and the copperheads must be forced to see reason. There will be a need for wizards with your particular skills in the near future,” Abelard said.

“My particular skills?”

Abelard steepled her hands. “Those willing to spill blood if need be. Those who are…experienced in that line of work.”

Han cleared his throat, thinking he must have misunderstood. “You’re looking for an assassin?”

“I need someone with the flexibility to do whatever is required.” Abelard rose and walked to the wall of windows, looking out over Mystwerk quad. “You would seem to be uniquely qualified—bright, powerful, and totally without scruples.”

These are dark times, Han thought, when everybody’s in the market for a killer.

Abelard turned back toward Han, and must have read resistance in his face. “Don’t worry. You will be well compensated, and no one will dare attack you openly while you are under my protection. I intend to return to the Fells within the year. If you prove capable, I will take you with me.” She paused, then added delicately, “I hope your attachment to that mongrel copperhead won’t prove to be a problem.”

Not for me, Han thought. No way I’m throwing in with you.

“I’ve left the Life,” Han said. “As you can see, it’s all I can do to manage my classes and reading and studies. I an’t interested in politics.”

“That’s good,” Abelard said. “That way you’ll do as you’re told.” She paused, and when he didn’t respond, went on. “Come now. I won’t be sending you out with a list of people to kill. We’ll start with some special training. I work with a select group of talented students. I would like you to join us.”

Han sat up straight, resting his hands on his knees. This must be the group Mordra deVilliers had mentioned. “What do you mean, you work with them?” he asked.

“I provide them with instruction that goes beyond the usual curriculum, and introduce them to powerful magical tools. They will be the core of our wizard army and will play a pivotal role in the struggle to come.”

“Who else is in this group?” Han asked.

“Mostly fourth years, proficients, and masters,” Abelard said, shifting her eyes away. “It’s an unusual opportunity for a first year.”

“Are there any other first years?” Han persisted.

Abelard heaved an exasperated sigh. “The Bayar twins,” she said.