136 – Distracted

"Professor Igna, what are you doing here?"

The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. She waited at his doorway, arms crossed, a stern expression on her face.

"I'm here to see you, apparently."

Mal's hair stood on end.

"What are you talking about?"

"Direct orders from the king. I'm afraid you're involved in this, whether you want to be or not."

"Involved in what?"

Igna let out a long breath. She looked back at Mal's dorm, then gestured with her head toward the pathway out of the dorm. "Let's walk and talk."

She smiled at everyone as they passed her, Mal noted. As soon as she turned around, Mal stepped up to her side. Out of the corner of his eye, he was able to get quick glances of her facial expression. A small, gentle grin and a nod every time someone passed her.

"Why do you do that?" Mal asked.

Her voice came out sickly sweet, like overripe fruit.

"Do what?"

"The mask. The smiles. You're not that nice of a person."

"A little bit rude, wouldn't you say?" Her eyes flickered like daggers toward Mal. "Maybe you should consider your words more carefully."

Mal met her gaze with his own level stare. The smile at the edges of her lips cracked until she looked away.

A beat of silence.

"I have a reputation to uphold."

A few more beats of silence passed before she opened her mouth to speak again.

"We were required to hand over everything related to the investigation to the king's men."

That wasn't too surprising to Mal. Of course, the king would want his own people involved in finding out what happened to his daughter.

"But what does that have to do with me?"

"Your name was plastered over every document we had."

Damn.

Mal bit his teeth into his tongue, and the acrid taste of blood filled his mouth.

"Don't make that face. He was rather impressed. So impressed that he requested your personal involvement in the follow-up investigation."

Double damn.

She stopped walking and tilted her head back at Mal.

"This is something to be proud of. After your father ruined House Patoal, you have a chance to redeem them in the eyes of the king. Single-handedly, you may be able to restore honor to your lineage."

"I don't give one damn about that. I—"

Realizing that he'd said too much, he shut his mouth.

Igna's eyebrows furrowed by a centimeter, then unfurrowed back into her normal cheery expression.

"Well, this is the situation you're in," she said. "The king knows about you, and what's more, he wants your help."

She stopped in front of the Magic Theory and Spellcasting Building, then opened it up.

She gestured toward Mal to enter. Mal stepped inside. She sped ahead of him, then flung open her door with a swipe of her hand, without even touching it directly.

She stepped into her office, then picked up a sheet of paper off her desk. Her eyes slid across the page in quick rows, then she set it down and tucked it inside of a locked drawer. It shut with a click, then she looked back at him.

"The king's men have come up with a plan." she said. "Savaly is likely in a large town to the north, in Violeko. The borders have all been shut, but they won't be able to keep them closed for much longer. They need more resources, especially our expertise. The plan is to send a circle in with the claim that it's for cross-cultural studies. One professor will accompany to do the real work. The king wants you and your circle to act as the cover story."

"Us? Why?"

"Although the Tenth Vessel escaped, you and that elfling did manage to engage him in combat. You showed great initiative and were very helpful in the coliseum." She snorted. "At least, that's what the reports say. I think it's all a great big bundle of luck, if I'm honest, but who am I to argue with the judgments of the king?"

Mal's mouth had turned dry. "Can I have a little bit of time to think about it?"

"You have one day. Our timeline is extremely short. Make your decision, and soon."

Mal stepped out of the office with his head pounding. This was more or less what he'd wanted—a chance to right the timeline after his disastrous changes. But it had been his fault in the first place. Savaly, in the first timeline, had never been kidnapped. Mal's actions had caused this. The more involved he got, the more things spiraled out of control.

I'm beginning to think this project was doomed from the outset, he thought.

His feet clicked against the stone pathway. The sky had lit up a brilliant orange from the light refracting across the sky for sunset. He drew his robes tighter around himself a split second before a cold breeze swept across his skin and drew the warmth from his muscles.

But if changing the past wasn't the right option, then what was? And even putting that aside, he was in too deep at this point. At the very least, he needed to rescue Savaly and set the timeline right before doing anything drastic.

"And why exactly are you so concerned with her?"

Mal froze in his steps. But the voice was rough, edged with the... throatiness that came from not using the vocal cords for a long time. Mal had only heard that voice in the minutes leading up to his death—and in a cave, when the veil between spirit and earth had fallen.

"You're not real. You're a hallucination, brought on by my guilt."

The voice responded like wind chimes. "Keep saying that."

Mal forced his feet to move back in the direction of his dorm.

"Why are you bothering with all this?"

"Because she's an important part of stopping the cult."

"No, no. You think that you're doing it because you care about her."

"What?" The word ripped ripped out of Mal's voice, like an arrow, sharp and pointed.

"You want to pretend that you're better than you actually are." she said. "So you act in your mind as if there's this hidden side that you're denying."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"The truth is much simpler: you don't give a damn about anyone. You're a cold, narcissistic psychopath who's murdered thousands, if not millions, all because you thought you knew better than anyone else. And now you're back here, and you're doing the same thing."

The evening sun had long since set, casting the sky into an eerie twilight. Mal's breath was unsteady.

"I'm trying to do things right this time."

"No, you're not, you're trying to assuage your guilty conscience."

"Those are the same thing."

"They're not, and the fact that you don't understand that shows that you haven't learned a single thing since you got here."

"If you're so smart," Mal said. "Then why don't you tell me the difference?"

"Even if I did, I don't think you would understand."

Mal stopped in front of his doorway. He'd arrived back at his dorm room.

"I don't know what you are," he said, in a slightly more level tone than before. "Whether you're some spirit in the shape of my future, or if somehow a piece of the future came back with me. Whatever the case, I'm going to get rid of you."

"Go ahead and try."

Mal breathed in and out slowly. He cleared his mind of the emotion that had been welling up inside of him from the voice's words.

He thought he was free of the spirit after it hadn't said anything to him for so long. Evidently, that was untrue. Whatever was haunting him would be around for the foreseeable future—unless he did something about it.

Another project to dedicate my mind to.

Mal opened up the door to his dorm.

"I'm distracting you now," the voice said.

For just half a second, Mal hesitated, and was indeed distracted. This is why he couldn't move when he saw... a blade going straight for his head.