Great. More attention I don’t need.
Nina’s the last one to leave, and she shares a final look with Thad before she’s gone.
“The library can be overwhelming,” he says now that we’re alone. “Centuries of knowledge, most of it contradictory.” He pulls out a piece of paper and scribbles something down with an old, expensive-looking fountain pen. “Start with these three texts. They’ll give you the foundation you need without the bias of some other sources.”
I take it, surprised by how much more elegant his handwriting is on the paper than it is on the board. “Thanks for the help,” I tell him, because what else am I supposed to say? Clearly, I need the help, and at least he’s willing to give it to me instead of dismissing me like most of the others are doing around here.
“Question everything you read,” he adds, those brown eyes serious now. “History is written by whoever controls the fire. And your point today about not having the right to decide for others? Don’t lose that.”
“Is that why you’re interested in Nina?” I ask. “Because she questions things?”
“I’m interested in all my students.” His gaze drifts to the door. “Some more than others. The Thornes, for instance, are such a dedicated family. Always willing to go the extra mile for knowledge.”
“That sounds like Evie,” I say, which earns me arealsmile from him.
“Now, I don’t want to make you late for lunch,” he continues. “My office hours are Mondays and Wednesdays after classes. If you have questions, come find me.”
I thank him again and leave, the paper in my hand feeling heavier than it should. Like it carries the weight of all the history I don’t know.
Advanced study group. Three spots. Twenty-four students.
And somehow, even though I knew nothing about this world two weeks ago, Thad seems to want to help me have a shot.
JADE
As I makemy way to the dining hall for lunch, I catch fragments of conversation that make no sense. “Forge Night,” and “thirteenth,” and “finally.”
“Did you hear?” Evie practically bounces beside me as I near the entrance to the dining hall. “There’s a Forge Night tonight!”
“A what?”
She stops so abruptly I almost crash into her. “You don’t—right. Of course you don’t know.” She grabs my arm, pulling me to the side. “Forge Nights are these parties that pop up randomly. Different location each time, always secret until the day of. The professors pretend they don’t know about them, but they definitely do. Getting caught means kitchen and grounds duty for weeks. I’ve heard horror stories about scrubbing scorch marks off training stones while paired with whoever you least want to be stuck with.”
“So… it’s an unauthorized party that’s actually authorized?”
“Exactly! And they’re incredible. At least, that’s what I’ve always heard. Dancing, drinks, and everyone mingles—all years together.” Her eyes shine with excitement. “I thought we’d have to wait until Halloween, but?—“
“But it’s Friday the thirteenth,” I finish, the pieces clicking together. “Let me guess—witches love symbolically spooky dates?”
“Now you’re learning.” She grins, and we continue making our way to the dining hall. “The only question is where?—”
“My two favorite first-years!”
An arm drops around my shoulders, and Oliver pulls me against his side like we’ve been friends for years instead of days.
“Oliver!” Evie beams at her brother. “Did you hear about tonight?”
“Hear about it?” He squeezes my shoulder, and I’m suddenly hyperaware of how solid he is, and how easy his confidence feels. “I’ve been counting down since first period. You ladies know where it’s happening yet?”
“No,” Evie admits as we push through the dining hall doors.
The familiar chaos of mealtime washes over us—chandeliers, the massive central fire pit, the four long, spoked brass tables coming out of it, and the careful social geography of who sits where.
Then I see Logan.
He’s at the fourth-year table, but his gray eyes are locked on us—onme—with an expression that makes my stomach flip. His jaw is clenched, his hands tight around his water glass, and the look he’s giving Oliver could melt steel. Or bones. And not even witch fire is hot enough to melt bones. Kieran drilled that into us earlier this week in class.
Nonetheless, the way Logan’s watching us is interesting.
