The tenth anchor point settled and Arthur's knees gave out.
He caught himself on the wall with one hand. The stone was cold against his palm. His chest was doing the thing where it felt like someone had wrung it out and hung it somewhere to dry.
"Brat." Roz was on his shoulder. "Ten locations in five hours."
"I know."
"You're going to pass out."
"I'm not going to pass out."
His vision went soft at the edges for exactly two seconds.
"I'm probably not going to pass out," Arthur said.
'YOU ARE SO FULL OF YOURSELF.' Vexis dropped down, arms wide, and then stopped. Looked at Arthur's hand braced against the wall. The caps energy went somewhere quieter. 'Just. Be careful. With my body.'
Arthur straightened up.
He wiped the sweat from his face with his sleeve and it didn't help much because the sleeve was also soaked.
He started walking.
Five hours. Ten anchor points spread across the parts of the city that mattered right now. He didn't need to open all of them at once. Just check them one at a time, rotate through, build a picture from pieces.
The Ampshire district shadow was already giving him foot traffic near Vak's usual spots. The Vernon estate anchor had taken most of the morning. He'd pushed it through the perimeter shadow by millimeters and it had cost him more than anything else combined, but it was in.
The Allright council debriefing room had been easier than expected. A shadow under the door gap. Patient work.
The two that had cost him something uncomfortable to place were the ones on Cael and Ivan.
Cael had helped him. That was real. But real help and full trust were different things and Arthur had learned that specific lesson in a world with screens and comment sections long before he ended up in one with swords.
"Who is Ivan?" Roz said.
"Acquaintance."
'That rat—'
"After I got moved to Class F," Arthur said, "he delivered word to the operation's officials that I was stepping down as manager. Along with Vak." He unbuttoned the top of his shirt as he walked. The academy hallway was long and the air was marginally better than outside. "He took my position."
Roz was quiet for a second.
"So Ivan runs the operation now."
"Yes."
"And Vak is under investigation."
"Yes."
Roz hopped from one shoulder to the other. "So Vak is sitting in his estate right now trying to figure out who reported him. And the last thing that changed before the report came in was you stepping back from the operation."
"Yes."
Arthur let that sit for a second.
It would be the reasonable thought. Someone tipped us then a news was delivered that I stepped down.
Vak would logically think. That I was the one who tipped them off.
He hadn't tipped anyone. He hadn't done anything. He'd gotten moved to Class F because of a fight his mouth started on his first day in this body and the whole downstream of it had landed him here.
Vak had tried to kill Arthur for it.
He almost laughed.
"So your theory," Roz said, "is that Vak sent the assassin."
"It's the only thing that tracks." Arthur ran his thumb across the scar above his collar. "He's scared and cornered and I'm the most convenient explanation for everything that went wrong."
'So what's the plan?' Vexis drifted alongside him. His voice was at normal register but something underneath it had been different since the bathtub. Less performance. 'Do we go at him directly?'
Not yet.
'His voice irritates me as well for what it's worth.'
Arthur smiled at the hallway.
That's something we agree on.
He was still smiling when something hit the back of his head.
Not hard. Flat. The specific sensation of an open palm making contact with the back of a skull in a way that communicated disappointment more than pain.
He spun around.
Vivienne stood behind him. Black hair. One hand still slightly raised. She looked at the state of him the way a person looks at something they didn't cause but are now required to deal with.
"What are you doing."
Not a question.
"Walking to class," Arthur said.
Her eyes moved down. The untucked shirt. The sweat visible through the fabric. The top button undone. His general condition, which was bad.
"In that state."
"I was going to change—"
"You are not attending my class like that." She tilted her head slightly. "Go."
'ARTHUR LEAVE. NOW. That woman is unhinged—'
"Right." Arthur was already stepping back. "Yes. Professor. I'll go change. Immediately."
He turned and walked fast toward the locker rooms.
Not running.
Definitely walking quickly.
Inside he leaned against the locker and breathed.
The air felt heavier than it should.
"Is it just me," Arthur said, "or did the air actually get heavier when she looked at me."
'It's her magic.' Vexis appeared at his shoulder. His voice had the specific tone of someone passing on information they found personally offensive. 'An aetheric field that multiplies gravity around her body. Five times standard weight in close proximity. She's a Battlemagus. Physical enhancement specialist.'
Arthur stood up straight.
He knew this already. He'd read it across about forty chapters. But feeling it and reading about it were different things and feeling it had been like standing next to a weather system that had opinions about you specifically.
He changed fast and headed back.
The classroom door was already closed.
He pushed it open.
"—five different formats depending on class ranking, which means your preparation needs to account for—"
Vivienne stopped.
Looked at the door.
Looked at Arthur.
"Sit down." She turned back to the board. "You're distracting me."
Arthur exhaled and started toward his seat.
His mouth opened Involuntarily.
"Geez woman." The words came out before anything could stop them. "You don't have to announce it. I'm already walking."
The classroom went heavy.
Not metaphorically. The actual air in the room gained weight and pushed down on every surface and Arthur felt it across his shoulders and the back of his neck like a hand pressing from above.
He slapped both palms over his mouth.
His eyes were wide.
What the hell — Vexis — I told you—
'I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING—'
A step.
The sound of one heel on the classroom floor.
Arthur looked at the desk in front of him. Specifically at the desk. At the grain of the wood. At the pen sitting on the surface of the desk. At anything except the direction the footstep had come from.
Another step.
The weight in the air got specific. Not the whole room anymore. Just the column of space directly above him.
"2nd year mage Vexis Lestilaut."
Her voice had no temperature in it at all.
"Repeat what you just said."
The pen on the desk in front of him was very interesting.
Very well crafted.
Arthur looked at it and said absolutely nothing.
A third step.