As students gathered at the entrance to the Towers, with Archmage Varessa preparing a speech, Koshmarnyk weighed his chances of getting inside. He’d had enough of waiting and gossip that painted unappealing scenarios. He needed real information, not scraps that circulated around Kaighal, more ridiculous the more ears and lips they passed.
A demon landed nearby. He looked smaller than Koshmarnyk had imagined, but it mattered not. Without hesitation, he approached.
The demon turned his head toward him, his beak-shaped nose pointing directly at Koshmarnyk, but no recognition flashed in his eyes.
“You’re not Veranesh,” Koshmarnyk said.
“You know of him?” The demon c****d his head. “Another friend of his pactee?”
Koshmarnyk tensed. Playing word games with a demon would risk revealing somet
