The Name of the Wind

Second, I was brilliant. Not just your run-of-the-mill brilliance either. I was extraordinarily brilliant.

Lastly, I was lucky. Plain and simple.

I stepped across the patchwork rooftops of Mains with my lute slung across my back. It was a dim, cloudy twilight, but I knew my way around by now. I kept to the tar and tin, knowing that red tiles or grey slate made for treacherous footing.

At some point in the remodeling of Mains, one of the courtyards had become completely isolated. It could only be accessed by clambering through a high window in one of the lecture halls or by climbing down a gnarled apple tree, if you happened to be on the roof.

I came here to practice my lute. My bunk in Mews was not convenient. Not only was music viewed as frivolous on this side of the river, but I would only make more enemies by playing while my bunkmates tried to sleep or study. So I came here. It was perfect, secluded, and practically on my doorstep.

The hedges had gone wild and the lawn was a riot of weeds and flowering plants. But there was a bench under the apple tree that was perfectly suited to my needs. Usually I came late at night, when Mains was locked and abandoned. But today was Theden, that meant that if I ate dinner quickly, I had nearly an hour between Elxa Dai’s class and my work in the Fishery. Plenty of time for some practice.

However, when I reached the courtyard tonight, I saw lights through the windows. Brandeur’s lecture was running late today.

So I stayed on the rooftop. The windows to the lecture hall were shut, so there wasn’t much chance of my being overheard.

I put my back to a nearby chimney and began to play After about ten minutes the lights went out, but I decided to stay where I was rather than waste time climbing down.

I was halfway through “Ten Tap Tim” when the sun slipped out from behind the clouds. Golden light covered the rooftop, spilling over the edge of the roof into a thin slice of the courtyard below.

That’s when I heard the noise. A sudden rustling, like a startled animal down in the courtyard. But then there was something else, a noise unlike anything a squirrel or rabbit would make in the hedge. It was a hard noise, a vaguely metallic thud, as if someone had dropped a heavy bar of iron.

I stopped playing, the half-finished melody still running through my head. Was another student down there, listening? I put my lute back in its case before I made my way over to the lip of the roof and looked down.

I couldn’t see through the thick hedge that covered most of the eastern edge of the courtyard. Had a student climbed through the window?

The sunset was fading quickly, and by the time I made it down the apple tree most of the courtyard lay in shadow. I could see from here that the high window was closed; no one had come in that way. Even though it was quickly growing dark, curiosity won over caution and I made my way into the hedge.

There was quite a lot of space there. Portions of the hedge were nearly hollow, a green shell of living branches, leaving enough room to crouch comfortably. I made note of the place as a good space for sleeping if I didn’t have enough money for a bunk in the Mews next term.

Even in the fading light I could see I was the only one there. There wasn’t room for anything bigger than a rabbit to hide. In the dim light I couldn’t spot anything that could have made the metallic noise, either.

Humming the catchy chorus of “Ten Tap Tim,” I crawled through to the other end of the hedge. Only when I came through the other side did I notice the drainage grate. I’d seen similar ones scattered throughout the University, but this one was older and larger. In fact, the opening might be large enough for a person to fit through, if the grate were removed.

Hesitantly, I curled a hand around one of the cool metal bars and pulled. The heavy grate pivoted on a hinge and came up about three inches before stopping. In the dim light I couldn’t tell why it wouldn’t go any farther. I pulled harder, but couldn’t budge it. Finally I gave up and dropped it back into place. It made a hard noise, vaguely metallic. Like someone had dropped a heavy bar of iron.

Then my fingers felt something that my eyes missed: a maze of grooves etching the surface of the bars. I looked closer and recognized some of the runes I was learning under Cammar: ule and dock.

Then something clicked in my head. The chorus of “Ten Tap Tim” suddenly fit together with the runes I’d been studying under Cammar for the last handful of days.

Ule and doch are
Both for binding
Reh for seeking
Kel for finding
Gea key
Teh lock
Pesin water
Resin rock

Before I could go any further, sixth bell struck. The sound startled me from my reverie. But when I reached out to steady myself, my hand didn’t come to rest on leaves and dirt. It touched something round and hard and smooth: a green apple.