The Name of the Wind

“I’d think you’d have your fill of books at the Archives,” she said, her voice thick with envy.

I shook my head. “I was banned,” I said. “I’ve spent about two hours total in the Archives, and half of that was getting thrown out on my ear.”

Devi nodded slowly. “I’d heard, but you never know which rumors are true. We’re in something of the same boat then.”

“I’d say you’re slightly better off,” I said looking over her shelves. “You’ve got Teccam here, and the Heroborica.” I scanned all the titles, looking for anything that might have information about the Amyr or the Chandrian, but nothing looked especially promising. “You’ve got The Mating Habits of the Common Draccus, too. I was partway through reading that when I was kicked out.”

“That’s the latest edition,” she said proudly “There’s new engravings and a section on the Faen-Moite.”

I ran my fingers down the book’s spine, then stepped back. “It’s a nice collection.”

“Well,” she said teasingly “If you promise to keep your hands clean, you could come over and do some reading now and again. If you bring your lute and play for me, I might even let you borrow a book or two, so long as you bring them back in a timely fashion.” She gave me a winsome smile. “We exiles should stick together.”

I spent the long walk back to the University wondering if Devi was being flirtatious or friendly. At the end of the three miles, I hadn’t reached anything resembling a decision. I mention this to make something clear. I was clever, a burgeoning hero with an Alar like a bar of Ramston steel. But, first and foremost, I was a fifteen-year-old boy When it came to women, I was lost as a lamb in the woods.

I found Kilvin in his office, etching runes into a hemisphere of glass for another hanging lamp. I knocked softly on the open door.

He glanced up at me. “E’lir Kvothe, you are looking better.”

It took me a moment to remember that he was speaking of three span ago when he banned me from my work at the Fishery due to Wilem’s meddling. “Thank you sir. I feel better.”

He cocked his head minutely.

I lowered one hand to my purse. “I would like to resolve my debt to you.”

Kilvin grunted. “You owe me nothing.” He looked back down at the table and the project in his hands.

“My debt to the shop, then,” I pressed. “I’ve been taking advantage of your good nature for some time now. How much do I owe for the materials I’ve used during my studies with Manet?”

Kilvin continued to work. “One talent, seven jots, and three.”

The exactness of the number startled me, as he hadn’t checked the ledger in the storeroom. I boggled to think of everything the bearlike man was carrying around in his head. I took the appropriate amount from my purse and set the coins on a relatively clutter-free corner of the table.

Kilvin looked at them. “E’lir Kvothe, I trust you came to this money honorably.”

His tone was so serious I had to smile. “I earned it playing in Imre last night.”

“Music across the river pays this well?”

I held my smile and shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know if I’ll do this well every night. This was only my first time, after all.”

Kilvin made a sound somewhere between a snort and a huff and turned his eyes back to his work. “Elxa Dal’s pridefulness is rubbing off on you.” He drew a careful line on the glass. “Am I correct in assuming that you will no longer be spending evenings in my employ?”

Shocked, it took me a moment to catch my breath. “I—I wouldn’t—I came here to speak with you about—” about coming back to work in the shop. The thought of not working for Kilvin hadn’t crossed my mind.

“Apparently your music has more profit than working here.” Kilvin gave the coins on the table a significant look.

“But I want to work here!” I said wretchedly.

Kilvin’s face broke into a great white smile. “Good. I would not have wanted to lose you to the other side of the river. Music is a fine thing, but metal lasts.” He struck the table with two huge fingers to emphasize his point. Then he made a shooing motion with the hand that held his unfinished lamp. “Go. Do not be late for work or I will keep you polishing bottles and grinding ore for another term.”

As I left, I thought about what Kilvin had said. It was the first thing he had said to me that I did not agree with wholeheartedly Metal rusts, I thought, music lasts forever.

Time will eventually prove one of us right.

After I left the Fishery I headed straight to the Horse and Four, arguably the best inn this side of the river. The innkeeper was a bald, portly fellow named Caverin. I showed him my talent pipes and bargained for a pleasant fifteen minutes.

The end result was that in exchange for playing three evenings a span I received free room and board. The Four’s kitchens were remarkable, and my room was actually a small suite: bedroom, dressing room, and sitting room. A huge step up from my narrow bunk in the Mews.