Why am I thinking of him now?
I try to push the thought away, but it just becomes more insistent. My magic has never steered me wrong before. It speaks in mysteries and subtleties, in dreams that unfold slowly over time. And if it’s pointing me toward Aric Vandermere—even if I don’t understandwhy—maybe I need to pay attention.
Outside the window, the sky is beginning to lighten, shifting from black to the deep blue that signals the sun is on its way. I watch it change through the thin gap in the drapes hanging around my bed, trying to decide what I should do. Should I take on even more responsibility and agree to tutor Aric? Or should I tell him no—or have Maeve do it for me?
The decision settles over me quietly, like an early-winter snow: I’m going to tutor him. Not because he’s handsome or charming or because planning the ball might be easier withhis help, but because something in me—something deeper than logic or fear—is telling me this matters. That I need to at least try, regardless of where it leads.
I just have to trust it.
Chapter 5
Aric
MIST CLINGS TO THE RUNEBALL field, and the grass is damp. It’s still early in the semester, so summer hasn’t yet given way to fall, but as I jog around the track, breathing in the crisp air, I can smell the first hints of autumn: wet earth, the shift in the sky, the change in the leaves. Autumn is out there, crouching in the Mistwood, still tucked into the soil, just waiting for its time to emerge.
I’m only half orc—on my mother’s side—so my sense of smell isn’t as strong as it could be, but it’s still much better than a human’s. So, when I finish my fourth lap around the track and catch the scent of peppermint in the air, I know someone else is close by. It’s still early, so not many students and professors are up and about yet.
Mornings are my favorite time to be alone. It’s when my mind is clear, when all the pressures of my life haven’t yet crept up to perch on my shoulders and whisper in my ears. Idon’t have to worry about passing my classes or being a good runeball captain or deciding what I want to do with my life after I graduate from Coven Crest. For these few quiet moments, I can just be.
I pause, using the break to catch my breath, and peer through the gray fog. And sure enough, someone else is out here—a small someone, from the looks of it. And they’re headed right toward me.
Stretching one arm across my chest, I watch as the small someone turns from a shadow in the fog into a witch with shoulder-length lavender hair and big round glasses.
Poppy, I recall. The witch from my cooking class and one of Maeve’s three roommates.
I glance left and right, but there’s nothing to see but the slowly dispersing fog and the early-morning sunlight glinting off the stained glass windows of the castle’s towers.
Poppy stops a distance away from me—an odd distance, like I’ve been sneezing and she’s afraid to catch a cold. She’s wrapped in her academy-issued robe, trimmed in third-year green, and has a knit scarf around her neck. I don’t think it’s cold enough for winterwear just yet, but I run warm, and Poppy is so just... tiny.
“H-hello,” she says, glancing away from me.
“Hey.” I switch to stretching my other arm. I tweaked my shoulder during the runeball game last weekend, and it’s still sore and tight. If I were any good at healing magic, maybe I could ease the strained muscles. Instead, I’m floundering to keep my grades above failing. And hopefully Poppy is here to tell me some good news. “Are you out here looking for me?”
Poppy’s light brown cheeks turn pink.
Adorablypink.
“Um, yes. Maeve told me you’d probably be out here. I’m on my way to Professor Silvermoon’s classroom. I’m her student assistant, and we’re doing a tasseography unit, and—” She cuts off suddenly, and I think I see her hand shaking as she reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “And I just wanted to say that I’ll do it.”
My chest warms. Why is this witch so cute? And why haven’t I noticed her before?
“You’ll do what?” I ask, dropping my arm and reaching for one foot to stretch my quad.
“I’ll tutor you,” she says, glancing away again.
A tingle of surprise goes through me.
“Seriously?” I drop my foot and take a step toward her, the grass soft beneath the sole of my shoe. “You’re really gonna help me?”
“As long as you’ll still help me with the ball,” she says softly.
Planning the ball. Right. Forgot I said I’d do that. But if it means I get someone to tutor me and help save me from getting kicked off the team, of course I’ll do it. Besides, I’ve always enjoyed a good party.
“Absolutely.” I take another step, closing the space between us. Poppy tips her head back to look up at me, and she looks kind of like a frightened woodland animal. She looks like she needs a hug. But I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want one from me. I think I’m the one that’s frightening her right now. “You save me from getting kicked off the team, and I’ll help you plan this ball.” I hold out a hand. “Deal?”
Poppy looks down at my hand. She stares at it for so long that I’m starting to feel a little awkward, and that rarely happens to me. But finally, she pulls her hand from the pocket of her robe and places it in mine. It’s small and soft, and I’m careful not to take her whole arm off when I shake it.
“Deal,” she says, then quickly slips her hand out of mine and back into her pocket.
