The big man set his quill aside, however, and didn't look put out. Instead, he opened one of his desk drawers and drew out a sheaf of blank paper. He handed them across the desk to Kurloz, then pulled out a slim journal, which he opened in front of himself.

"It's similar to the school journal paper," he explained. "But what you write will only appear in this book. Now. What can I do for you?"

He suspected that the boy wasn't there because he needed some help with a particularly confounding assignment, but he wanted to see what Kurloz would write. How would he explain his interest, what he thought the professor had been offering to teach him? It was thin ice Rhys was treading, and he had to be sure the boy was the fertile ground he seemed to be, before he said too much about what he might offer. But he had a good feeling about this one, and the older man had learned to trust his instincts.