The second night of Pie Week was in full swing by the time they returned to the College. Instruction was finished for the day and apprentices and tradesmen alike were celebrating in the courtyards and platz. Wagons laden with food, wine, and ale were doing a brisk trade and the crowds seemed merry and good natured. Here and there minor spells crackled as apprentices engaged in playful boasting and showing off but any serious magic would bring irritated magisters down on their students.

"Can you believe we pulled that off?" Emmaline asked, still breathless with excitement.

"I can hardly believe you didn't kill us both, where did you ever get the idea to fly on gold coins?"

"I just couldn't bear to let the assassins get all that gold!" Emmaline replied, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright with excitement.

"Also killing us," Malcador pointed out. Emmaline blinked as though this thought hadn't occurred to her. Malcador could only shake his head at how much the gold lust had blinded her to the danger they had been in.

"Sigmar alone knows what rumors will spread about it," Malcador added. Emmaline shrugged her shoulders. Strange things happened on the Street of a Thousand Taverns and the Gods knew half of the witnesses had been drunk. Magisters might hear it from the palace of course but Emmaline was hoping that news would take a while to filter back to the College. Albrect wouldn't be mad that she had cast spells in public, but he would be furious that she hadn't given him a share of her gold. The thought of the gold made Emmaline reach into her belt pouch and run her fingers through the wealth of gold coins and let out a soft moan.

"So," Emmaline said, a wicked gold glazed look stealing over her, "any plans for the rest of the night?"