What’d they do to you, Crow? Han wondered. Could it possibly be worse than what they did to me?

Crow might be bitter, but he was also focused, determined, persistent, brilliant, hardworking, thorough, and incredibly knowledgeable.

Crow still sometimes crowded into Han’s head without permission, to demonstrate some difficult bit of spellwork. It may have been convenient for Crow, but it left Han feeling invaded. Crow often did it when Han was nearly drained of power.

Sometimes after their sessions, Han felt like he’d been drinking turtle’d cider. There were huge holes in his memory—time passing that he couldn’t account for. He felt as though his mind had been trampled and reshaped.

I’ve got to find out how to keep him out of my head, Han decided. But it was unlikely that Crow would show him that trick.

They always met in the same place—the Mystwerk Hall bell tower. Dancer had kept watch for Han the first few times, but Han had shooed him off after that. Dancer had his own work to do. He couldn’t be sitting up every night, holding Han’s hand.

Han found a new crib among the dusty stacks high in Bayar Library, where they kept texts and records so old and strange that no one ever used them. He set up a back room with a pallet and dragged a table up from three floors below. It was easier to get to than Mystwerk Tower, and he didn’t have to worry about the bell-ringers stumbling across his empty body. It amused him to lay claim to a bit of Bayar Library.

Three or four nights a week Han slipped away to his hideaway, crossed into Aediion, and worked like a slave until his amulet was totally drained.

It posed a problem since his daytime classes required power. It was all he could do to replenish his flash between late-night sessions. Gryphon never missed an opportunity to take a poke at him when his depleted amulet failed to produce.

Crow seemed to have unlimited energy. Of course he did. Han did all the work.

In the mornings he’d often wake bone-weary; half-remembered dreams still circulating in his head, feeling like he’d worked all night. Sometimes he failed to wake on time. He’d go straight to class from the library in the same clothes he’d worn the day before. Several times he’d been late to Gryphon’s class, which, unfortunately, was the first of the day.

When Han stayed away all night, Dancer assumed he was seeing a girlie and didn’t want company. Wrong, Han thought. I’m living like a dedicate.

He and Crow would agree on a four-hour session and Crow would keep him for six. He’d keep at it until Han’s amulet was wrung dry and Han was limp and dizzy, then complain that Han needed to pack in more power the next time.