It has only been three days since they returned onto Academy island and already Camaz regretted it. It was, of course, the safest place to be: even if Bringers had infiltrated into the Academy at the very least it would be difficult for them to call for backup.

The biggest problem was that he could no longer tell if someone was lying. Actually, that wasn’t the thing that bothered him the most. Rather it was admitting to himself that the fact that he lost his abilities hasn’t really changed much even after his return to the Academy as the so-called ‘spymaster’. His specialty had always been in the realm of interrogation, which earned him said position. However he had spent years avoiding using his abilities until he absolutely had to. Perhaps he had a natural inclination in sensing the truth, but he was no Orrna.

Camaz sighed to himself, taking a moment to stare off the pavilion in the front of the Administration building down to the growing crowds of students and staff at the island’s market square. He was far too old to be suffering from impostor syndrome. Even if he was weak as a common Gaian without any speck of abilities to speak of, he still could do some things. He headed into the great stone building, the cool inside air whooshing at him the moment he pulled open the doors.

After a small lobby, a long hallway led him towards the back where the meeting hall was. The administration gathers there frequently, but Camaz always thought it was the most irritating room to have any meeting in. It boasted an immensely tall ceiling that stretched at least three stories high and echoed any sound made in it. Long columns stretched down to meet the floor like long legs, the space between patched with a grid of window panes. There was no glass between these panes (as any normal glass maker would likely have killed themselves over such an insane order, even if it is for the most important building in the Academy). It overlooked the cliffs southwest of the island however, curiously, the roaring sound of waves crashing against the cliffs and any gusts of wind or splashes of water even during a violent storm was kept out. A veritable forest of plants adorned the room. Vines climbed the columns and heavy thickets of leaves painted the room green. Bushes, flowers, ferns, grasses, even trees in large pots filled every possible corner and directed any foot traffic to the front. Twenty elaborate chairs made of dark wood faced the front platform behind long tables.

They were meant to replicate a lecture hall. Except this looked nothing like the stale halls built to keep students focused. The edge of the platform had two pathways flanking it that led to stairs that wound up seemingly behind the impressive window display. This path was nearly hidden by all the foliage. Camaz went up the curved stairs up above the windows where a ledge full of plants and shrubbery hid the office of Headmaster Kallum.

The headmaster was a wizened man with impressively long gray hair that reached his shoulders and an even longer gray beard that reached his abdomen. If he was younger, Camaz imagined his hair would be not unlike Ralos’s uncontrollable mane but Kallum has found a way to make himself look neat and respectable in his old age.

“I hope you’ve come up with at least three reasons why I shouldn’t be kicking you and those twins out by tonight,” Headmaster Kallum said as soon as Camaz walked in. He had a pile of books and paperwork stacked neatly around him, a dip pen hovering over a line on a piece of document. Kallum did not even look up as Camaz took a seat on one of the two wooden chairs facing the headmaster’s table, instead continuing to read the document in front of him and then signing it.

“Is one very good reason good enough?” Camaz spread his hands. “That being the fact that the Caelis heirs are being hunted and I am responsible for their lives.”

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“I have read your report and that of the Freerunner’s,” Kallum responded, stacking his freshly signed document with others to the left of him. He put the pen back into its holder and finally turned his full attention to Camaz. “To call it shocking is putting it mildly. I understand you have put your Sekrelli past in the past but the things you have written crossed a line. I’m not sure if I can even call it blasphemy.”

Camaz and Rask had discussed at length whether or not to allow Kallum to know about Aris’s condition. The crux of it was that neither of them knew if what she had told them was really true, although Ral was adamant that it was. They decided that the headmaster at least needed to know if they were to return and use the Academy’s resources. Then there was the idea that Gates turned Gaians into the Unseeing… As Camaz has not seen this for himself, he found this one hard to believe as well.

But there was one question his doubts constantly faced: what was the point of any of them lying about this? Aris said that it was their destiny to resolve the Gate issue, that the flow of the Great Solvent had led them down this path and they were forced to walk it. Camaz didn’t know anything about destiny, but he did know his ward. Aris would never do something she didn’t want to. Thus, he was inclined to believe her.

“Then perhaps we should look at this from a practical point of view,” Camaz finally said. “One of the twins claims they can close Gates. Another has useful abilities that will help. Surely those are reasons enough to keep them.”

“Yes, there are ways to test this claim. In a safe way as well, and it may be a boon to the closing enchantment in the works,” Kallum said. He sat back in his seat, an unreadable expression crossing his face. “I’m surprised, Camaz. You haven’t said a single word to campaign for yourself to stay in the Academy.”

“Are you firing me?”

“There have been suggestions to do so. Between your mishandling of Aris’s behavior and the behavior of your so-called ‘contacts,’ the administration is dubious about your contribution to the Academy. Not to mention your department has long been a highly specialized field with little or no students in them. I would think you at least had something to say for yourself after your many fumbles, but am I mistaken to see that you’ve learned a bit of humility for yourself?”

Camaz rolled his eyes. “I mean if you’re gonna fire me, I can do without the patronizing speech,” he said. He had expected this. Well, he had hoped bringing back a solution for the Gate crisis would make up for something, but he knew members of the administration cared a lot more about optics.

“I’m not going to fire you,” Kallum rumbled, crossing his arms. “As much as I think you deserve it. No, you have made great contributions to the Academy, some that the majority of the administration don’t know about as is the nature of your work. In fact, I think it would be useless to try to kick you out as I’m sure you would simply find a way to weasel your way back in.”

The last part was entirely true but Camaz made no comment to verify it.

“You shall remain here to clean up your mess: that mess being Aris. You will suppress all information regarding her eyes and what happened out east. And Part’s damn it you’ll control her. I take it that your ability is tailor made for that job.”

Again, Camaz made no comment, only nodded. He had left out meeting the strange creature named Imron in his report. He hadn’t told anyone about meeting the Part, not even Aris.

“And you should pray your report doesn’t leak to the general public.”

“Even if it’s the truth?”

“Camaz, what in Parts’ name has happened to you?” Kallum said exasperatedly. “You of all people should know the truth doesn’t matter to the public, to the masses.”

“Even if it’s a crisis affecting every Gaian in the empire?” Camaz demanded.

The headmaster skewered him with a severe look. “Especially if it’s a crisis that affects all of us.”