“Do you know where Giselle is?” she asked to change the subject. She hadn’t seen her roommate since the carnivorous splinter incident.
“I don’t know—sharpening her demon teeth?”
Hailey rolled her eyes, and Fin held his hands up as they approached Olde Main.
“I have no idea what that thing does,” he told her, opening the door. “You’re in Lab 1, which is down there.” He pointed to a hallway that was stretching andcompressing like a horizontal slinky. “I’m upstairs, so I’ll catch up with you later,” he said, walking backwards as he spoke, and Hailey waved.
Wearing her wellies, Bear Towne sweatpants and a “Where the heck is The Middle of Nowhere” sweatshirt, she shuffled into Lab 1 a full ten minutes early. It would have been fifteen, but she’d stopped in the girls' bathroom to fuss over her hair, which Tomas had insisted she wear down.
After thirty minutes of staring at the door, waiting for Asher to arrive, Hailey gave up and decided to pay a visit to Dr. Woodfork, whose office was also on the first floor.
She found his door slightly ajar and heard the unmistakable boom of Asher’s voice coming from inside.
“Get rid of her, Simeon, or I will,” he almost roared.
Hailey’s breath caught.
Asher stormed into the hallway but stopped abruptly when he saw Hailey. His mouth turned down, and he tilted his head away from her.
“You will leave this place,” he said with ice in his voice.
Her heart fell. Eyebrows squished together, she glanced at Dr. Woodfork for an explanation, but he avoided her.
She swallowed hard. “I…no. I willnot,” she said, looking Asher up and down.
When he put his face in hers like a drill sergeant, she pulled her head back slightly but refused to back away, even as her throat tightened. She stared at him defiantly, and he stared back, a thunderstorm of dark violet clouds rumbling to life inside his eyes.
Then, as suddenly as the storm in his eyes erupted, it dissipated, and his face softened.
“It’s no longer safe for you here,” he said gently, and he dropped his gaze then walked out, leaving Hailey stunned into silence and staring after him.
She turned to Professor Woodfork, following him into his office as he retreated. “What was that?” she breathed, struggling to keep her voice steady.
“Oh, dear,” said the professor, sighing deeply as he sat pensively at his desk. “Ah, don’t worry,” he said brightly. “I don’t believe he truly wishes for you to leave. Come,” He motioned her to a leather armchair near a woodstove. “I’ll conduct your first lab. Let’s have a short discussion about Envoys, shall we?”
Standing, he plucked a book from his shelf and placed it into Hailey’s hands. “He’ll probably know that I’ve given you this—he can see into my mind, but he doesn’t always look. Still, best if you didn’t mention it to him,” he warned, and Hailey nodded.
She ran her hand over the gilded leather cover. It was obviously an antique, anobjet d'artin remarkable condition, and a book he’d written himself—a chronicle penned in an elegant old script. She hungrily scanned the first page, picking out the gist of the story of the Envoys.
During the seventeenth century B.C., a king among men became obsessed with the Aether, the realm, which holds life energy, as he believed he could harness and wield its power. What few records survive indicate this king conducted barbaric experiments in his effort to understand the Aether, oftentimes slaughtering his slaves while they slept.
The location of the kingdom and of the great tear are unclear.
Fascinated, Hailey flipped to the center of the book.
Indeed, numerous Envoys are said to have appeared on Earth in several discreetlocations…
Seven of the Envoys pulled across the veil made contact with humans: Theon the Loyal, Asher the Benevolent, Cobon the Clever, Kiya the Serene, Adalwolf the Voracious...
Flipping again, she found what she was looking for.
An Envoy is by nature devoid of emotion, incapable of experiencing what we call “feelings,” but they have, observedly, mimicked moods such as impatience and generosity.
Chapter twenty-six
A Dark Tunnel
“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” - William Shakespeare, Hamlet
