He reaches for the card, but I quickly slide it into the bag and take it from Vivienne, grabbing it from the bottom so as not to touch her again.
"Thank you," I tell the elemental sincerely. "I needed that."
Then I excuse myself and leave because it's time to track down some ingredients for forbidden magic.
It takes breaking into twenty-three locked storage chests in a forgotten archive of the eastern library before I find what I need.
Flinging open the top of the chest, I wave away the dust and thank the universe when I see a bundle of vibrant orange phoenix feathers. They're an annoyingly rare ingredient.
I grab the bundle and slip it into the bag thrown over my shoulder, which I grabbed from my dorm earlier.I also took the time to change into my own clothes, including a pair of soft leather gloves, so now I feel more like myself. Once again, it's just me on a mission.
Well. Me and the incubus who I can feel watching my every move from Limbo.
I can't see him, but Crypt hasn't left my side even once since I left my dorm. At least he's giving me the illusion of space, but something about his presence feels darker right now—as if he's on edge as much as the others, liable to snap any moment.
The threat of that is oddly thrilling.
Best not to linger on that.
Quietly shutting the wooden storage chest, I double-check that I left no trace, aside from disturbing the dust in this barely visited room. Satisfied, I ascend a long flight of winding steps to the main level of the eastern library. It's empty right now, with not even a faculty member in sight. No one cares about the library when the entire school is in an uproar over the lockdown and the Matched Ball tonight.
Fifteen minutes later, after avoiding all high-traffic hallways, I'm back in my dorm room, sitting on the floor with the lights off and a candle lit on my desk. I stare at the ingredients in front of me. Phoenix feather, Kenzie's hair, hag's root, onyx dust, a dagger, a bowl for collecting my blood…and all my thriving potted plants.
Which I'll have to sacrifice for this spell.
I sigh as I slip off my gloves and brush my fingers over their leaves. I don't like killing the plants I worked so hard to cultivate. Lillian is the one who got me into botany—at the time, she'd fussed over what she'd called the “barbaric, inhumane" way I was being raised, with no respect for the sacredness of life. She helped me build an indoor garden so that I would learn to appreciate the effort it takes to simplylive, even for a plant.
But it didn't take me long to figure out that plants can fuel my magic, too. I don't get the same buzz of power as I do when I take the life of a monster or legacy, but it's enough to get by when I have limited options.
Like right now.
Raising my hands, I whisper a common magic spell that sets fire to the potted plants. They steam and shrivel, dead within seconds as the room fills with the scent of burnt herbs. Grabbing the dagger, I make a long, diagonal slice through the palm of my left hand. I keep my voice to a barely audible whisper since Crypt is probably still lurking outside my dorm room, and he's already overheard me through the door once.
“Obsecro te pro anima huius sanguinis.”
As I speak, the room darkens, chilling around me as the bitter tang that always accompanies necromancy fills my mouth. Of the three kinds of magic I can tap into, this is the most taxing—because only necromancers are supposed to be able to wield it.
I'm not a necromancer.
But apparently, all the rituals I had to go through to becomethischanged me in ways they never expected.
I chant the words again as I hold my stinging hand over the bowl, feeling a macabre thrill as I watch my blood splatter over the tendrils of the bright orange feather. Adding the onyx dust, hair, and hag's root, I whisper the forbidden words again to complete the illegal life-force-searching spell.
Malicious, lifeless power pulses through my body and swirls around the bowl in the form of black smoke. All color leeches away from everything in the bowl before the phoenix feather bursts into green fire.
I exhale a harsh breath and squeeze my eyes shut, ready to collapse from how taxing that spell was…but also from pure relief.
Alive.
The feather catching fire means Kenzie is still alive. Now I just have to find her.
And to do that, I'm going to find that godsdamned changeling and show it just how much it shouldnothave fucked with someone I happen to care about.
The green fire fizzles out, and I glance down at my fingertips, which are now blackened and numbed from the necromancy. The cut on my hand is still bleeding, but I make no move to wrap it because the weight of that ritual presses on my chest like a frozen anvil. I overextended myself, and now my eyes can barely stay open.
But it was worth it. Now I know Kenzie is still alive somewhere.
Pulling myself onto my bed, I instantly pass into a fatigued sleep so deep that it's almost dreamless.Almost.The nightmares still catch up to me, and in the end, I'm trapped in their grasp, reliving old fears and past traumas that claw me to tatters.
