The second day of testing began with what Thornwick called "observation exercises." He led Dust through Northport's bustling market district, pointing out details that most people would miss entirely.
"Commerce is about information," Thornwick explained as they paused near a spice merchant's stall. "The merchant who knows that southern pepper prices are about to rise will make a fortune. The one who doesn't will lose his shirt. Tell me what you see here."
Dust studied the stall carefully. The merchant was middle-aged, well-dressed, with the confident manner of someone doing good business. His goods were high-quality and properly displayed. But something felt off.
"He's nervous," Dust said finally. "Look at his hands—he keeps checking his coin purse, but not like someone counting profits. More like someone worried about having enough to pay debts."
"What else?"
"The spices are good quality, but he's got too much inventory for this time of year. Either he misjudged demand or something happened to disrupt his usual sales." Dust paused, thinking. "And see how he keeps glancing toward that tavern across the street? Someone in there is making him anxious."
Thornwick followed Dust's gaze to the tavern, where two men in expensive clothes sat at a window table with clear sight lines to the spice stall.
"Debt collectors," Thornwick observed approvingly. "The merchant borrowed money to stock up for the harvest season, but sales haven't materialized as expected. Now his creditors are keeping pressure on him." He turned to Dust. "What would you do if you were in his position?"
"Find a buyer for bulk quantities, even at reduced prices. Better to take a smaller loss now than risk losing everything to debt collectors." Dust considered further. "Or find out why sales are slow—maybe there's a supply problem elsewhere that could work in his favor if he waits."
"Both valid approaches. The key is recognizing that commercial problems usually have multiple solutions—the trick is choosing the right one for your specific situation."
They spent the morning moving through different parts of the market, with Thornwick teaching Dust to read the subtle signs that revealed the true state of various businesses. A baker whose bread was slightly stale had cash flow problems. A cloth merchant displaying only his finest goods was trying to attract a wealthy buyer for a quick sale. A livestock trader keeping his animals in premium condition despite slow sales was waiting for prices to rise.
"Information is everywhere," Thornwick said as they stopped for lunch at a quiet inn. "But most people don't know how to see it, let alone use it productively."
The afternoon brought memory exercises that pushed Dust's abilities to their limits. Thornwick would show him detailed maps for brief periods, then quiz him on specific routes, distances, and landmarks. He'd introduce him to groups of people, then expect Dust to recall their names, occupations, and key details about their backgrounds.
"Memory isn't just about retaining facts," Thornwick explained. "It's about organizing information in ways that make it useful when you need it most."
But the most challenging test came late in the day, when Thornwick led him to a different part of the guild hall—one that felt more private, more serious.
"What I'm about to show you stays between us," Thornwick said, unlocking a heavy door with an ornate key. "Elena's recommendation opened this door, but your performance over the past two days convinced me you can handle what's behind it."
The room beyond was unlike anything Dust had seen in the guild hall. Maps covered the walls, but these weren't commercial trade routes—they showed political boundaries, military installations, and strategic resources. A large table held documents written in multiple languages, some bearing official seals that Dust didn't recognize.
"My school prepares students for many careers," Thornwick said, closing the door behind them. "Some become merchants, others diplomats. But a select few are trained for more specialized work—information gathering, political analysis, strategic planning."
"You mean spying," Dust said quietly.
"Among other things. Though that's a crude term for what amounts to professional observation and analysis." Thornwick gestured to the maps. "The kingdoms of this world are in constant flux. Alliances shift, resources become scarce, ambitious leaders make dangerous decisions. Someone needs to understand these patterns and provide accurate information to decision-makers."
Dust studied one of the maps, noting symbols that marked fortifications, ports, and what appeared to be resource deposits. "This is about more than trade, isn't it?"
"Everything is connected. A poor harvest in the southern kingdoms affects grain prices throughout the continent. A new silver mine in the mountains shifts the balance of power between neighboring states. A plague in one city can disrupt commerce for hundreds of miles." Thornwick moved to stand beside him. "My graduates work in various capacities—some openly as trade representatives or diplomatic attachés, others more discretely as information brokers or strategic advisors."
"And which would I be suited for?"
"That depends on your aptitudes and interests. But your background gives you advantages that conventional students lack. You understand poverty, desperation, and the motivations that drive people to extreme actions. You can move through different social levels without attracting attention. Most importantly, you have survival instincts that can't be taught in classrooms."
Thornwick pulled out a chair at the table. "I want to try one more exercise. This document contains a report about political tensions in a border region. Read it carefully, then tell me what you think will happen next."
The report was complex, written in the dry language of diplomatic correspondence. It described disputes between two minor kingdoms over mining rights, complicated by religious differences and competing claims of legitimacy for their respective rulers. Trade had been disrupted, refugees were crossing borders, and both sides were requesting military support from larger allies.
Dust read through the document twice, trying to understand not just the stated facts but the implications beneath them.
"This will escalate," he said finally. "Neither side can back down without losing face, and they're both too weak to win decisively on their own. The real question is whether their larger allies want a limited conflict or a broader war."
"Explain your reasoning."
"The mining rights are valuable, but not enough to justify a real war by themselves. The religious and legitimacy issues run deeper—those aren't problems you solve with negotiations." Dust pointed to specific passages in the report. "Both sides are already positioning for military action, and their allies are being careful not to commit fully. That suggests everyone expects fighting, but no one wants to be blamed for starting it."
"And what would you recommend if you were advising one of the major powers?"
Dust considered carefully. "Depends on your goals. If you want stability, find a face-saving compromise that gives both sides something they can claim as victory. If you want to weaken both kingdoms, let them fight and exhaust themselves, then step in as the peace-maker who gets favorable trade agreements in return."
Thornwick nodded slowly. "That's exactly the kind of analysis my best graduates provide. You're thinking strategically, considering multiple perspectives, and recognizing that the obvious conflict isn't necessarily the real issue."
As they left the private room, Dust felt as though he'd crossed some invisible threshold. The testing wasn't just about whether he was smart enough for advanced education—it was about whether he could handle knowledge that came with serious responsibilities.
"Tomorrow is the final day," Thornwick said as they walked back through the guild hall's main corridors. "We'll focus on practical applications—negotiation, persuasion, and what I call 'social engineering.'"
"And then?"
"Then we'll see if the Thornwick Academy has room for one more student." Thornwick paused at the main entrance. "I should warn you—the education we provide comes with obligations. Our graduates don't just pursue their own interests. They're expected to serve the greater good, even when that conflicts with personal desires."
That evening, Dust found himself walking along Northport's waterfront, thinking about the path that had brought him here. Six weeks ago, he'd been a street thief with no prospects beyond day-to-day survival. Now he was being offered opportunities that could shape the fate of kingdoms.
The Sea Witch sat at her moorings, familiar and comforting in the forest of masts that filled the harbor. Captain Aldrich's offer remained open—he could return to the ship, continue his life as a sailor, and build a honest career on the seas.
But Thornwick's world offered something different. The chance to understand the forces that shaped nations, to possess knowledge that could prevent wars or topple governments. It was intoxicating and terrifying in equal measure.
As he watched the sun set over Northport's bustling harbor, Dust realized that tomorrow's final test wouldn't just determine whether he was accepted to the academy.
It would determine who he chose to become.