The blood witch shifted in her seat, chewing slowly, thoughtfully, as she appraised Seren with those strange purple eyes. “I’ll say I’m impressed, Marudas. Not many can read me, a point of pride for South Sildenians. But I’ll warn you now, I never tell my secrets for free. Let’s hear something from you. Why are you so terrified of the dark?”
Instantly, Seren felt her muscles grow rigid, her breath sharp. “I’m not.”
Lily let out a low snort of laughter that echoed through the dining hall. She brushed her fingertips together, breadcrumbs littering the table only to vanish where they fell. “I was there in the maze with you. I saw that primal fear in your eyes. You forget I come from a country being occupied by soldiers who would whip you in the street for looking at them wrong . . . I know what true terror looks like. And should I mention the fact you sleep with a candle burning every night, despite the risk of burning this whole place to the ground?”
“It’s for reading, while you’re too busy snoring and drooling all over your pillow.” The words were half-hearted, paper thin.
Lily rolled her eyes. “We both know it’s not. Tell me, Seren, what happened to you?”
Suddenly, she was a little girl again, tearing through Myrkwyn Forest, the steady sound of marching soldiers at her back. A tangle of endless wood before her. She’d never told anyone this. Only two people knew, and even they didn’t have the whole story. “I was nine,” she swallowed against her throat, which had gone bone dry, and took a sip to wet it. “Legionnaires came to test our magic. I don’t know how they do it in South Silden, but here they have warriors whose sole purpose is tracking down witches and wizards. And other warriors who burn out the magic of those who refuse or aren’t selected to attend an academy or train under a hedge witch. That day, they came to test the children of Little Ridge, but it was at the tail end of the Trinity War. I was afr—nervous, that they would take me away if I showed an affinity for magic. Even then, I had the intuition to realize I was different. I don’t know how to explain it—”
“I know the feeling you’re trying to describe.”
Of course she did. Lilith was just as much witch as she was. Maybe more so.
Seren nodded. “I ran to the nearby forest to hide. It had already been getting late. I went much further than I’d ever dared alone and stumbled upon a cave. At that age . . . I didn’t stop to think about what could be living in it. I climbed inside, it was dank and darker than light had the ability to penetrate. I’d never felt such darkness before. When I tried to turn back, I heard it outside the cave, snuffling and trudging. It smelled me and it was getting closer. I retreated further into the darkness, that endless black. It pressed into me, like it was trying to sink beneath my skin . . .” Seren felt a sharp shiver pull over her body. Lily watched her, a quiet knowing in her eyes. But she didn’t interrupt.
“Wolrpia release two kinds of slime—one that burns and one that sticks. They coat their dens with the sticky kind so that anything that happens to wander inside is trapped. I discovered this when I slipped and fell and couldn’t rise. Couldn’t see. Knew I couldn’t scream and alert the creature that I was inside. I was helpless, powerless. Simply waiting for the creature to come maul me to death. Grunge and bones tore over my skin when I struggled to get free. Outside the creature’s steps were getting louder. He was at the cavern mouth. I knew it was the end.”
At her words, Lily turned slightly ashen.
“I’m not sure how long I was in there, in that thick black, waiting to die. The wolrpia finally trudged in, ugly, horrifying, dripping that acidic slime as it lumbered towards me where I was trapped like a fly in a web. But then I heard it. Arabella’s fierce shouts. You wouldn’t believe it, I hardly did, Bella had been soft and withdrawn. She spent her time tending the flower and herb garden, cooking with our mother on her good days. Yet, she’d uttered a battle cry that drew the creature away from me. It charged out of the cave where a legionnaire waited with Bella and sliced off its head with one swift swing.”
Seren thought back hard to the spray of slime and blood she saw staining the forest floor once they freed her, and that stoic legionnaire. A seasoned warrior, her ghostly white-blonde hair and black patch over a scarred eye. It was a face she would never forget for as long as she lived.
Lily's voice dropped to a thoughtful whisper, "If Ara hadn't screamed, you'd be dead. That Legionnaire may have taken the beast's head, but your sister saved yours."
“Miss Marudas.” His tone was solemn as the wind that blew on penance day, yet it still managed to ignite shivers down her spine. She turned partway in her seat to find Professor Atwood standing a few feet behind them.
Within her chest, her heart pounded in a voiceless answer, but the darkest parts of her mind recoiled in anger. “How long have you been standing there?” she demanded.
“Long enough.” Atwood didn’t meet her eyes, but instead appeared to be gazing just over her head. He’d cleaned up since she last saw him–shaved the dark stubble and donned a suit that wasn’t torn to shreds by spelled tree roots, but Seren knew that just under the material his chest was cracked with a labyrinth of scars that spread out from the center of his chest like rivers or streaks of lightning.Her lightning, that left marks too powerful to be completely smoothed away.
“How can I help you, professor?” She tried for a pleasant tone but found herself lacking in warmth. How could she trust the brother of a wizard like Calder Darkmore?
“You are being summoned by Calami’s senior board. Please follow me. Miss. Sinclair, promptly make your way to your dormitory. Curfew is in an hour and those who linger have more than shadows to worry about in these hallowed halls after dusk.”
Seren admired the cold stare Lily gave the man but still nodded her off. “You can tell me your secrets later,” she added, and reveled in the pulse of warmth that was becoming familiar in Lily’s presence, like the spark lit within kindling. It seemed Calami had more to offer than magic and the solitude she’d grown so accustomed to.
As Lily stood and strolled past empty tables and chairs to the foyer beyond, Seren drew in a deep breath. Icarus had already turned, headed determinedly for a door at the opposite end. Seren snagged a final bite of bread before rising to follow him. He exited to a dim corridor, heading toward a section of the Tower that had been deemed off-limits to students. Seren raced to catch up, her clicking heels echoing when she rounded the corner and almost slammed straight into his broad back. His familiar scent overwhelmed her senses—weather-beaten skies before rainfall, with hints of sharp evergreen and aged vanilla.
In a blink he was facing her, eyes brewing like storm clouds. The gold of his spectacles caught the light and for a moment she couldn’t breathe.
“It is best if you remain silent when we enter.” Those eyes were searching her face, now, probing more deeply than before as though the answer to some unasked question resided just on the other side.
Her mind scrambled for words, grappling with the urge to move forward and away simultaneously. But before she could do either, he was stepping back, taking the warmth from the air with him.
They went on a way further and there, where the hall grew wide and brightly lit, Seren could think clearly once more. An insistent twinge of fear and doubt studded through her as she inspected the gilded double doors Icarus stopped in front of. Within them, heart-rendering carvings decorated each panel. The moon and sun, signs for the honored goddesses, and reigning above it all was the mark of Calami Tower.
“Why am I here, Icarus?” Her voice shook, and she swallowed against her dry throat, trying desperately to dampen it. So caught up in the unusual sensation of uncertainty that filled her, she didn’t realize she’d addressed him by his given name until it was already slipping between her lips.
Momentary torment seemed to shroud him, something Seren couldn’t fully understand. Or perhaps simply didn’t want to. But her anxiety had her power humming beneath her skin, she held it close. A comfort.
“ProfessorAtwood,” he corrected. His tone held firm, too rigid and formal for a man who had laid weak, close to death in her arms only the night prior. She hated the way it hurt to hear him say it, but he only continued, unphased. “Calami’s board is curious about your powers. They have questions.”
Seren swallowed again, throat aching in time with the persistent pounding of her heart. Had Icarus gone to them about what she did in the clearing? Was she about to be cast out? The racing of her thoughts made the hall dip out of focus around her. She stumbled slightly, but Icarus’ firm hand gripped just beneath her elbow, warm and steadying. A single finger grazed the skin where her sleeve bunched up and a pointed heat, more electric than even her magic, passed between them. She knew he must have felt it, too, by the way he withdrew his touch so quickly.
“It has nothing to do with Arabella or what happened at the edge of the boundary last night, if that is what you are worried about. They are simply curious about the power you displayed in Transfiguration.”
