away, and the others quickly followed. Valkyrie glared at them until they had disappeared round the corner. Then she started to feel stupid for overreacting.
She turned again, just as a young woman dressed all in black strode up to her with an arm outstretched.
“Hello!” the young woman said, and Valkyrie was shaking her hand before she knew what was happening. “It’s very good to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you, naturally, but it’s so good to finally meet you in the flesh!”
She was Scottish, had long red hair, a few freckles and the brightest smile Valkyrie had seen in a long time.
“You’ll have to forgive the students,” the woman said, lowering her voice slightly. “It’s not often they meet someone famous.”
Valkyrie took her hand back. Gently. “I’m not famous.”
“Ah, well, infamous, then.”
Valkyrie took a moment to work it out, then she sagged. “Oh, right. Darquesse.”
“They’ve seen all the pictures,” the redhead said, “all the videos. And there are plenty of videos of Darquesse tearing the place up. They don’t mean anything by staring, really they don’t.”
“It’s fine,” Valkyrie replied. “Amazingly, I kind of forgot that people would associate me with her, even though we shared the same face. Just another thing to feel bad about, I suppose.”
“Mmm,” said the redhead, because she obviously couldn’t think of a way to salvage this topic of conversation. Then she brightened again. “I’m Militsa Gnosis. I teach Magic Theory.”
“You’re a Necromancer?”
“Guilty as charged,” Militsa said, and then suddenly stopped smiling. “Which is probably not the best phrase to use when most of your Order plotted to kill billions of people. If it makes any difference, though, I didn’t know anything about the Passage or what the Clerics were planning.”
“So you’re a good Necromancer?”
“Yes,” Militsa said, beaming once again. “I was going to store my magic in a ring like you did, but I didn’t want you to think I was copying you, even though I so would have been, so I keep it in this instead.” She pulled back her sleeve, revealing a thick bracelet. “It’s pretty cool, I think.”
“Yeah.”
Militsa’s smile faltered. “Oh, no.”
“What?”
“I’m being lame, aren’t I?”
“Sorry?”
“I’m being so lame right now,” Militsa said, her chin dropping. “You think I’m a complete idiot, don’t you?”
“Do I?”
“You must.”
“I don’t think so.”
“But I’m babbling. I’m just a babbling idiot that ran up to you and started babbling. This is so embarrassing. Why do I have to be so lame?”
“I … I don’t think you’re lame.”
“That’s just because you’re a nice person.”
“I’m not that nice,” Valkyrie said. “Really, I’m not. I’m quite rude.”
“You’re not rude.”
“I am,” Valkyrie insisted. “Before this conversation is done, I bet I’ll have been rude to you by accident.”
Militsa looked up. Her eyes were huge. “You mean it?”
“I do. And you’re not lame and you’re not an idiot. You’re just being friendly. You’re a friendly Necromancer, which is kind of unique.”
“We’re not known for being friendly, I’d have to agree,” Militsa said, brightening.
“So you’re a teacher here?”
“Yep. I guide students through their options, as far as choosing a discipline goes. I never meant to be a teacher, to be honest. It’s not something I ever saw myself doing, but it combines two of my favourite things – talking about magic and … and, well, reading about magic, I suppose. I don’t have a very wide range of interests.”
“Maybe you should get out more.”
“That’s what my mum says, but then she’s three hundred years old. I think she has unrealistic expectations when it comes to me. I’m just a normal girl. Give me a good book and a sofa and I’m happy, you know?”
“Can’t beat a book and a sofa.”
“If I wasn’t a teacher, I’d probably be a researcher, maybe be a part of Project Torchlight. Have you heard of it?”
“I haven’t, I’m afraid.”
“Ah, no matter. My point being, I specialise in the Source – which is another reason I’m so pumped to be meeting you.” Militsa hesitated, her eyes sparkling. “Could I see your magic? Could I see what you can do?”
“Uh …”
“Just a little bit, I swear. You’re incredible to me, that’s all. You’re connected to the Source of all magic like nobody else. Your magic is … it’s pure. Unfiltered.”
“I’m not very good at controlling it,” Valkyrie confessed.
“I’m not surprised,” said Militsa. “I’ve got theories about it, if you’d like to hear them.”
“Uh, maybe. I’m a little busy right now …”
“Oh, of course,” Militsa said, laughing at her own stupidity. “Of course you’re busy, you’re Valkyrie Cain! But if ever you wanted to talk about it, just knock on my door. I will literally drop everything to talk to you. Literally. Everything.” She brushed her hands together. “Dropped.”
“OK,” said Valkyrie. “Well, I might do that.”
“Or if you just want to hang out,” Militsa said. “You haven’t been to Roarhaven much, have you? Again, I’m not a stalker, I just … I’d have heard if you were in town a lot. I could show you around. There’s actually a pretty good arts scene here. Bizarre, I know, but there you go. Might be fun, if you’re into that kind of thing. Or we could go for a coffee. Or a drink. Or dinner. Would you like to go to dinner?”
“No thank you.”
“Right, of course, you’re busy, I get it.”
“It’s not that I’m busy,” said Valkyrie. “It’s just that I don’t want to.”
Militsa blinked. “Oh. Well, I mean, OK. That’s cool.”
Valkyrie’s
