“I’m sure Esjay told you you’re not the first.”

“How many have you had, exactly?”

“Oh, you know…” He hesitated, his cheeks growing rosy. “Eleven.”

I almost dropped my next tart in my lap. “Eleven debtera in three years?”

“Including you. But that’s a nice even number to stop on, don’t you agree?”

“You mean odd.”

“What’s odd about it?” He put down his cup with a clink. “Let’s get to the point. I know why you sent me your résumé. Do you know why I chose yours out of the pile?”

“It was the next in line?” I said dryly.

“You’re unlicensed. Which means you’re seeking a patron, correct?”

Magnus checked all the right boxes for a proper patron. Wealthy. Well connected. Someone who would vouch for my ability in exchange for successfully cleansing his house. With his support I wouldn’t need a license to get more work. But he rubbed me the wrong way as if he was born to do it, and if there was any other option I wouldn’t be sitting here now.

He raised his thick eyebrows at me, and I had no choice but to nod. “You picked me solely because I’m unlicensed?”

“Esjay used to be in charge of the hiring, but you can see how that’s gone so far.” He rolled his eyes. “So, I looked at the top of each résumé until I found one that didn’t list a license. The others have nothing substantial to lose or gain, whereas the two of us have everything. You need this job as much as I need your skill, making this the perfect partnership.”

“I … suppose that’s true.”

He looked very satisfied with himself. “Now it’s your turn. Tell me about yourself.”

“Myself?”

“Esjay said you studied with Jember, which seems to be an impressive accomplishment. How many years did you train?”

“I’ve been around the craft my entire life, but couldn’t officially begin my mentorship until I turned sixteen.”

“That seems a little late to begin learning such an intricate skill.”

We learned the hymns before then, but never amulet work. Strange that someone who had employed ten others before me didn’t already know that. “It takes a certain amount of patience and maturity to construct amulets, and silver is too expensive to waste on the unsteady hands of children.”

“Silver’s not that expensive,” he said, waving his hand carelessly. “And don’t worry, I have plenty of it here for you, so you can mess up to your heart’s content. As long as the Evil Eye is gone at the end of it, I don’t care how many attempts it takes.”

I wanted to dump my coffee on his expensive rug. “Yes, sir.”