"I've spent a fair amount of time there for work lately," he said, sort of unnecessarily. That his publishers in The Capital - and specifically, in Hall Way - had wanted to see him so often was the entire reason he was in Repose to begin with. "But I've heard bits and pieces, and they're usually about this place, not The Capital. Disappearances, monsters. I would lay even money that Hall Way is located where it is for the juxtaposition with this place, and not the other way around. There's a strange energy here."
He paused, gave her a thin smile. "And yes, my wards are very good, with that in mind. They were always one piece of magic with which I've been particularly adept. And after fifteen years of breaking into tombs for a living, I think they're about as good as they can be. I picked up a trick or two from the ancients that they thought to use on, well, people like me."
"The reality of living through it, of course, is that I very nearly didn't." He tilted the glass toward her, as if to ask if she'd like another glass, then just poured her one anyway. "Because the school had become the center of power, and of course, the war came to Lindmarch. There was a battle, and it was messy, ugly. Students fought each other. Died." He looked at Del seriously as he handed her the wine. "You know, my father tried to kill me, at the end." He said it almost in an offhand way; twenty-one years was a long time. "Took a curse in the eye he'd meant for Jamie. Mediwizards are nothing short of miracle workers," he said, waving a hand in front of his eyes as if to say "see?" They both looked whole. Normal. Tracked the movement of his hand perfectly. "They could give me the eye back, but not the sight. It's a miracle I lived."