“You and I suffer from the same problem. There is a finite ceiling that determines our lots in life. I don’t know if that restricts my happiness,” Quint said.
Talia sat back as their food was served with a frown on her face.
The roast chicken looked delicious, with browned skin and roasted potatoes swimming in a chicken gravy. Quint sipped his wine. It was watered down so much that it was almost flavored water.
“Eat,” Talia said with a grin.
If anything, Talia enjoyed her dinner. She ate more of her chicken than Quint did.
They walked back to the annex in companionable silence.
As they came to the gate, they stopped.
“I will go home. My father doesn’t live at the headquarters, but his flat is a few blocks away. I live with him when I’m not on duty at my division.” She looked up at the annex behind Quint’s back and then looked into Quint’s eyes. “I think you’ve given me more to think about than the opposite. Thanks for the dinner,” she said.
Quint gave her a little bow. A salute wouldn’t be appropriate since she was in civilian clothes. “I think I can say the same. Thanks for the tour and your advice on getting these.” Quint lifted the bag of his new civilian outfit. “Good night.”
“And a good night to you.”
He walked through the gate after showing his identity tag. Once in bed, Quint stared at the dark ceiling and wondered how he did with Talia. He realized he had made a mistake in pointing out they both had a hard limit in the wizard corps. At this point, Quint didn’t care, but that might not always be the case.
Did his test, for he was sure the evening out was a trial of some kind, affect whatever decision would be made the following day?
Quint was left to his own devices in the annex for breakfast and lunch. The woman who had escorted him to his magic test finally rapped on his door.
“Time to find out what the wizard corps has in store for you,” she said.
She led Quint to the same waiting room for his first interview and left him sitting in a chair, waiting for the next meeting. No one bothered him as he sat for half an hour waiting for the door to open. It finally did, and a man exited. He was older than a recruit and didn’t look exceptionally happy.
Quint watched him walk out, wondering what his reaction would be.
“Recruit Tirolo,” a voice called him in from the corridor.
Quint walked in and stood at attention. Only one officer was behind the long table meant for maybe five people.
The voice belonged to the second officer, who talked little while he was evaluated and tested the previous day.
“I won’t take much of your time. We have made a difficult decision regarding your rank and first posting. You will be recognized as a Level 3 wizard. That gives you certain privileges. You will be housed as an officer and eat in the officer’s mess, should you choose. However, your military rank will be that of a corporal due to your age and inexperience. Your day-to-day duties will be that of a corporal and you will be given duties befitting a corporal.
“My pay grade, sir?”
“We are on firmer ground with that. There are always two components to pay in the Wizard Corps. You will be paid as a corporal with the standard bonus for achieving Level 3. The bonus is twice that of a Level One corporal’s pay.”
“Thank you, sir.” Quint could send some money home. With a lowly rank and more money than any of his peers, he would do some saving.
“Your studies at Fort Draco presented us with an opportunity to give you a challenging posting. You will be assigned to the Strategic Operations division of the Wizard Corps. Their operations are closer to the city center, and you will merit a billet in the building for your first year of service.”
“And then, sir?”
“You will be allowed to procure housing outside the headquarters. Most personnel live outside,” the officer said. “There is a housing allowance for corps members serving in Bocarre.”
Quint had to repress a frown. He had to find out about the allowance before sending money to his father. Quint didn’t know how to do that, so he would have to learn a lot since he had no idea what strategic operations entailed.
“Yes, sir. When do I have to report?”
“Since you will be living in Bocarre, you will take a carriage to the headquarters after breakfast tomorrow. Here are your orders. Do not read the sealed envelope. Give those to the officer in charge. Any questions, Corporal Tirolo?”
“No, sir,” Quint said.
He saluted and left the room. Quint was sure his expression matched the one of the soldiers who had preceded him.
Chapter Seve
n
The carriage let Quint off in front of a building that looked more like a mansion or a lord’s manor in the middle of a block of similar structures. At least this one wasn’t black, but black-uniformed officers were guarding the gates.
Quint showed them his identity tag and let them read the address on his orders before they would let them into a graveled courtyard.
A brass plaque beside the ornate doors proclaimed that the building housed the Strategic Operations Division of the Racellian Wizard Corps. Quint didn’t know if he should feel proud or disgusted.
He walked into a foyer. The architecture was fancy, but there were no decorations on the walls. The headquarters building he had left had arms and armor displayed and depictions of magical battles on murals on some walls.
