As she closed the door behind her, Atissa resisted the urge to eavesdrop. When Ryell arrived, she’d already spent enough time with her ear to the door, following the conversation inside and waiting for the right moment. Thankfully, not many students frequented the highest towers where the archmages had their quarters, or there would be no end to the gossip on how the archmage’s daughter eavesdropped on her own father. Not that he would care, since he was the one who’d told her to listen, but she could do without vicious remarks other students would generously offer. At first, their jealousy of her position amused her and tickled her pride, but as years passed, it became nothing but a source of annoyance.
She rushed down the spiral stairs. Built four hundred years ago—and in quite a rush,
