Though a day and a night had passed since her time spent before the Calami’s board, Seren was still flooded with waves of annoyance to think back on the ridiculous meeting itself. So many of them had been ready to prosecute her, and over what, a stem and a few thorns? If they only knew the true power that brewed under her skin. She wondered then if any of those fools would have the gall to face her, let alone try to cast her out of Calami Tower. Her plans for that evening had been thwarted as well. She’d missed an hour of scouring the library for the answers that everyone seemed so reluctant to spill, speaking in riddles and myth. Painting a half picture. And after speaking with Roxie before bed tonight, she knew she needed the truth now more than ever.
Something is wrong with Ara . . .Roxie had whispered after catching Seren at the entrance to the Hatchling hall tonight. The tension around the witch’s green eyes had made Seren nauseous. She’d tried to rush off toward Bella’s dorm before Roxie caught her arm to stop her and proceed to tell her what wasreallywrong. How Bella had brought all three Kingston triplets to their knees for teasing her-–but did it by touching only one of them.
Seren’s thoughts whirred at the mere idea of such power. Had it been anyone else, she might have been impressed–and a touch jealous of them for having such a useful ability. But now she felt only worry and fear for her sister, who had never so much as harmed a fly during their childhood.Arabella the good, the helpful, the sweet,the people of Little Ridge had dubbed her. Seren always found the titles rather stupid and cheesy, but she did have a small sense of envy for the awe and warmth her sister inspired in others. People trusted her to do the right thing, to help when they needed it. That sort of kindness was part of her very essence. It’s what made Bella . . .Bella. Any deviation from that was chaos to the mind and soul.
Huffing, Seren pushed herself up to sit on the edge of her bed. At the movement, Tisiphone slithered her head out from beneath, forked tongue flicking out to taste Seren’s emotions that coated the dorm room air. A pulse of concern radiated from her black-scaled serpent. Slowly, she coiled herself around Seren’s leg, the smooth cool feel of it was a comfort, but it did nothing to quiet her thoughts.
“I cannot just sit here waiting for something bad to happen, Tisi. What if she is this . . . vessel? And what if that’s not a good thing like they all say it is?” she whispered. Though she’d been irritated with her sister’s nickname for her familiar at first, it was catching on, and now she used it without meaning to.
She knew in her heart that her sister was too trusting for her own good. That she would leap at the chance to help others with open arms, even if doing so put herself at risk. Maybe she didn't want Seren's intervention, but she was going to get it.
Seren rose, gently untwining herself from her familiar’s cold embrace. She moved quietly to her small desk, pushing aside the growing stacks of parchment, one pile for elixirs and the other a half-finished essay on the lost Waters of Menden for her magical theory class. A few days into the term and already behind onbothassignments. But Seren was only truly interested in theusefulsubjects Calami offered, like defense, enchantments, conjuration and summoning. This very morning she’d watched one of the older students light a candle and cast a spell over it that hid the flickering flame from everyone but the bearer’s view… if she could figurethatspell out her life would certainly be made easier, especially for what was to come.
A glance at Lily, she found the blood witch in a deep but fitful sleep. So often she cried out in the night, trapped in whatever taunted her. But Seren knew Lily well enough not to wake her. The blood witch slept with a small blade beneath her pillow and, in her delirium, might swipe at Seren’s throat if she got too close.
A whispering sigh grazed her lips as she moved to the hook by the closet, pulling on her uniform before slipping out her door to step down the dormitory passage until she reached the descending flights of stairs, a small flame cupped gently in her palm. She was ready to extinguish it at a moment's notice, should a professor be out and about.
As she whisked down the steps, her river of loosened dark hair drifted behind her, making her regret not tying it back. At every creak and groan the Tower emitted, her ears pricked, and she slunk against the wall. Old buildings had old bones–noisy bones,as her mother would put it. And so she gathered her courage to continue toward the library, but kept one eye open for Madame Cuorvoandthe frightful things Icarus had warned Lily of.
A spelled hairpin at the ready, she’d been expecting the door to be locked when she reached it and for once felt grateful to Calder who’d shown her the basics of his secret spell on their escapade around Calami her first night. But when she reached out to test the golden handle, it gave easily beneath her touch. The magical scent of old books hit her first–aged vanilla, that sweet decomposition of pages more ancient than she could fathom. Her eyes fluttered closed as she took a moment to enjoy it. Her fingers itched to touch page after page of endless knowledge she could use to her advantage.
Feeding the flame in her palm, she pressed into the room, which seemed as tall as it was vast. With rows that stretched on like a maze, she had been almost hesitant during her first visit, afraid of getting lost amongst the bound paper and ink. Surely, students before she had wandered inside, never to return from a room so large and complex. The librarian’s attendants were helpful to a point, but many lingered, watching like sharp-eyed hawks to report back to their madam. The freeing aspect of searching unhindered, unstalked, was more powerful than any fear the winding way could stir.
She’d combed the obvious sections already–magical history, magical artifacts, legends and lore–and even the less obvious sections like potions and herbs, enchanted crystals… Calder had said something about a stone, hadn’t he? But all proved unhelpful. What she’d skipped was the faculty section, reserved for professors only. The attendants watched it with a keenness even she couldn’t thwart. But here,alone, her imagination stretched almost as wide as the sprawling shelves around her.
With a fresh urgency, she took quick but quiet steps toward the far end of the library. Here, the shadows grew dense and opaque. The air turned hot with the sweet call of magic. It seemed to linger, suspended like the moondust that pooled in the basin of the meeting wing. Was she imagining the silver light up ahead? Were the books themselves giving off that eerie glow?
Seren moved toward it, her feet no longer under the control of her mind’s command. A hum rose around her, more electric than the sensation of the lighting that brewed just beneath her skin. She knew she should feel afraid, but that fear didn’t come, even as she tiptoed around the second to last shelf, where the glow shone brightest, and spotted the figure looming before the high, final row.
Quickly, she let her magical flame die and reared back to hide in the stack of books to her right. Between the gaps that riddled each shelf, she squinted, trying to see better. Her eyes widened when she finally recognized the figure sifting through the boundless collection, mumbling curses to rival that of the legendary pirates of the Violet Islands to the west. Beside him, his pocket watch rested on the shelf, glowing that blinding silver that lit the mountain of texts around them. Forgoing his usual gray, his charcoal black suit rippled with the light as he moved back and forth, reading each title faster than Seren could comprehend.
Her initial surprise died away, replaced by the light of realization that this was opportunity having thrown itself into her lap. Where could he go? She practically had him cornered. The urge to wait and watch crossed her mind. She was curious as to what he was searching for and if it had anything to do with her own endeavors. But time was of the essence. No doubt Calami Tower had the vestus making rounds for this very thing. Students out of bed. Handsome professors sifting through dark and dangerous books. So, instead of waiting, she stepped out from her shadowed hiding spot and drew close behind him.
“Icarus?” Her voice was as soft as it was tentative, like the first day she’d spoken to him—that false show of submission. Most men were pliable and easily manipulated when flattered, at least the ones back in Little Ridge had proved to be.
Icarus stiffened, the only hint of shock at her presence. Reaching for his augere, he turned to face her. The light danced over her eyes, so blinding that little stars swam across her vision, obscuring his sharp features. Bringing her hand up to shield against it, he lowered it down to his side so that she could see again, but when her sight cleared, she found his face hard as stone.
“Professor,” he snapped.
Seren flinched at the hostility behind the word and the cold waiting on the other side of it. Bone-chilling ice that reminded her of the night Calder had stifled her powers with his own. Her mind shied away from the memory, and she took a hesitant step back, staring up at him, heart a stutter. He seemed different, though she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was. Hair disheveled and damp with rain, the first buttons of his shirt were undone, collar rumpled. The pearlescent tip of the scars beneath peeked just below the dip of his collarbone, evidence of where her magic had licked his skin. She’d never seen him so unkempt while he was on his feet.
“Professor,” she repeated bitterly. “I need your help.”
“What youneed,Miss Marudas, is to return to your dorm immediately before I bring you to the headmistress myself. As I’ve said before, these halls are dangerous after dark.” The look in his eyes almost made her believe it. But he’d made the hollow threat before, she was beginning to wonder if he’d truly bring himself to condemn her at the feet of Sidonia Sinclair.
Turning away from her, he continued to skim the lines of cracked binding. His fingers frantically grazed each spine as though he could will them into being what he wanted to find so badly.
Seren shivered at the sight, but her heart grew just as hard and impatient as his tone. “No, what Ineedis for you to tell me what your brother has been up to and what his plans are for the future. I know you’ve been out in this storm. Where else would you go if not to see him?”
Drawing close again, she gestured at the rain dripping off his curls, wetting the shoulders of his suit jacket. It was a bold assumption and a bluff at that. Icarus could have been anywhere, doing anything . . .with anyone. The thought sparked a dull ache within her.
His chin jerked her way and his eyes grew fierce at the sight of her standing so near. So close that the heat of their bodies collided to warm the space between them. That a simple inch forward would have their skin brushing against one another was enough to make her swallow back whatever else she'd been meaning to say.
Shifting, he moved to face her full-on. Her stomach lurched in a way that wasn’t . . . unpleasant, but certainly unexpected. She’d known her fair share of men, one intimately who’d been a lifeline in a sea of lonesome grief. Yet, none had ever made her feel quite like this. Not even Calder, with all his charm and ego, had swayed her.
With trembling knees, she debated a step back, but something about the idea made her think Icarus would see the act as weakness. As her conceding–him winning–and that was most certainly not the case.
A bitter smirk tugged at his lips. It made him appear, for a moment, too similar to his younger brother. But then it was gone and Seren found the will to breathe.
