If we hadn’t made up only seconds before, I would’ve pointed out the hypocrisy in that decision. As it was, I let it slide. I hated arguing with him.
“So you want to make something that lets us know if the other one is safe?”
My gaze caught Alex’s ring, and I placed my hand over it. The moonstone began to cycle through the colors of the rainbow before settling on white once again. “If only our totems would do that, we would have less to worry about.”
He let out an irritated laugh. “I thought the same thing.”
Flipping to a page in the middle of the book, Alex pointed out a spell for protection. “This one responds to your heart rate, which could be a little dicey. The academy likes to scare the shit out of us all the time. But if we cast it so that the enchanted talisman responded to heart rateandanother factor that we can control, then I think it might be perfect. This way the person in trouble can warn the other person.”
My eyes ran down the page. The incantation didn’t seem difficult. It didn’t even require any unusual ingredients, or magic that Alex and I couldn’t perform.
“I say we try it. The worst thing that happens is it doesn’t work. Then we pick something else out of this book, and give it a whirl.”
Alex gave me a small smile. “Exactly.” He leaned in, and our lips met in a tender kiss. “Thanks for being willing to try this out, sweets. I need something to let me know that you’re okay when we can’t be in the same place.” He closed the book and placed his hands over the top. “Also, I’ve been thinking that maybe you should try to teach me how to warp.”
My eyebrows shot up. That would not have been my next logical train of thought. “Warping? But, babe, you know it’s a rare talent.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized how snobbish I sounded. Still, I couldn’t take it back, because it was true. Warpers were one of the rarest types of witches. So rare that no one knew if the talent was genetic or not. Neither of my parents were warpers, but I suspected that it had been passed through one of them—whichever was the descendant of Morgan Le Fay.
“I know it’s rare and difficult,” Alex said. “I’m fully prepared to fail. But trying would make me feel as if I’m doing everything that I can. Think about it. What if you’re the one in trouble, how am I going to get to you?”
He was right. It was worth a shot. And while I wasn’t confident in my teaching abilities at that moment, I had an idea that could work.
“You have a point. My mentorship with Professor Tittelbaum begins in a few days. Apparently, he’s also teaching a new warper. I’ll take notes on what he says, and when I feel like I can teach you well enough, we’ll begin lessons.”
“Why not tomorrow?”
“I know this is urgent, but I want to make sure I know what to do and say.” I cupped his face. “I’d be pissed if I told you something wrong, and you made some funky warphole that screwed up your pretty face.”
Alex snorted. “That would be a shame, wouldn’t it?”
“A tragedy,” I agreed, and leaned in for one more kiss.
Chapter Eight
The weeks passed by in a haze of classes, physical conditioning, various spymaster obligations, and long nights filled with studying. Before I knew it, August had arrived, and the first Spy Games event loomed only a month and a half away.
Somewhere in the mire of school work and training, Alex and I had succeed in creating our protection talisman—a small prophetess pendant that Spellcasters had gifted the Culling students at the end of last term. When we’d first received it, neither Alex nor I had known what to do with the charm. But after two failed attempts at enchanting it, the dime-sized emblem now had a fantastic purpose.
Alex hung his around his neck, while I’d opted to make my talisman a bracelet. If we ever found ourselves in serious trouble, all we had to do was touch the pendant and say the word “suppetia”. The combination of an elevated heart rate, our touch, and the magic word would cause the charm’s twin to glow red-hot, alerting the other wearer to danger.
The moment I clasped the bracelet around my wrist, Alex calmed down. Since then, our relationship had been carefree. Well, mostly. The threat of the royals of Hell always lingered in the back of my mind, and probably Alex’s too. But because we couldn’t control it, we did our best to ignore it.
Luckily, we had about a billion things on our mind to help us forget our problems. The courses we continued from last year were as challenging as ever, and the new ones were even harder. For me, the most difficult course was definitely Divination and Tarot. Whether we spent the hour reading tea leaves, staring into crystal balls, or sloshing water around a scrying bowl, I was terrible at all aspects of fortune-telling.
In Divination and Tarot, we worked in pairs, so one person could read the other’s fortune. Since we were all beginners, I could easily take most of what my peers said with a grain of salt. That is, until the day Professor Videns paired me with Amethyst Rhines.
Amethyst had proven herself gifted in Divination and Tarot from day one. According to Professor Videns, this should have come as no surprise to anyone. The Rhines family excelled at spirit walking and talking, which indicated a predilection to communing with the other side.
As my friend took up the stool on the other side of my table, fear over what she would predict gripped me.
“Do you want to go first, or should I?” Amethyst asked.
I grabbed the cards, determined to perform such a drawn-out reading that Amethyst would never get the chance to read my future. Unfortunately, my plans were foiled rather quickly by Professor Videns claiming it was time to switch moments later.
“Ten cards is the extent of your abilities, Miss Dane.” He waved his hands, and the deck reshuffled itself and landed before Amethyst.
“It’s time to let Miss Rhines practice,” the professor said. “I have yet to feel a jolt from the other side in this room, and I so wish to experience that today.” He gave his star pupil a gracious smile before gliding away.
