Gentry nodded, and soon they were on the ground in what appeared to be the suburbs. Kit helped her remove her jackets and stuff it into her backpack as she took in their new surroundings. Non-magical children were playing outside. Dogs barked from their fences and adults mowed their very expensive, sprinklered lawns. The green almost hurt Gentry's eyes, since she was so used to the russet color of the desert now, but no one seemed to pay them any mind as they walked, Kit on the side closest to the street, his long legs clearly working far less than her own. Before, the last time they'd been in the city, any time they'd walked together, she'd had to speed up to keep pace. Yet another difference in the assassin witch she'd captured only three days ago.
It was starting to grate on her nerves a little. “You don’t have to be so chivalrous all the time now, you know. Just because you decided to help me doesn’t mean you’re my servant.”
Kit didn’t break stride for even a second. “Everyone deserves to be a little spoiled when they’re sick. Let me spoil you, darling.” He dripped every ounce of country charm on the ‘darling’ part.
“If you keep acting like a dog, then I’ll treat you like a dog,” Gentry muttered, thoroughly embarrassed by his open flirting. It’d been easy when he’d been trying to use her to escape. But now? It made every part of her ache. She very much doubted he felt the same way about her.
“Treat me like a dog, then. This dog’s gonna get you what you need,” the tall witch announced proudly, and a passing businesswoman gave them an odd look.
Gentry wanted the ground to open up and swallow her just then. The man had no shame. She didn’t dare say anotherword until the houses grew closer together and eventually transformed into businesses. They were finally on a city block, but this block looked more pedestrian than she'd ever seen, with wide expanses of sidewalks and pavement and plenty of old wartime statues. Gentry let out a little gasp. "Is this…?" she asked.
"Natovar University? Why yes it is." Kit flashed her a grin. "I had a feeling a nerd like you would like it."
Like it? Kit had taken her to an absolute marvel: the only all-witches university in the world, which she'd seen depicted in movies and TV shows with varying levels of truth to it. Sometimes Natovar was depicted as the hub for all the evilness which covens could conjure up. Other times it was shown as a haven for a powerful, misguided witch who finally made it to Skadra. Although some of her hate for witches had dissipated with her father's death, Gentry was more inclined to believe the former. Gentry clutched at her baseball cap she'd donned for this excursion as they were passed by a group of witches who were hollering and cackling like frat boys.
"Why'd you take us here?" she asked.
"Because the curse expert lives here," Kit said as if it were obvious. "Back before the Jumpers were attacked by the Redbacks, Visha went here. Her father paid a pretty penny for her to get the best education." Kit laughed, but the sound wasn't happy. "She'd been gifted with magical herbs and plants and she'd impressed the fuck out of all the professors here. So even after we lost all that money and she had to drop out, she kept up some of her connections here. She gets paid as a... what do you call it, an advisor."
Gentry tried to reconcile the picture of a studious Visha versus the murderous woman who tried to kill her and found that they clicked neatly into place. She'd seemed clever, if not a little bitheavy in the way she manipulated Kit. That poison certainly hadn't felt amateurish either.
Kit pulled on her hand when she got caught staring at one of the large statues. "Come on. We need to make it to the professor's building." He sounded a little nervous, but Gentry was too dazed to question it.
Her eyes went over all of the ancient lettering on the buildings and she instantly knew that the language must have been Elvish. All spells and incantations were Elvish, which was the language spoken by the fae. Very few could read it, and Gentry knew that the government had yet to find a way to crack the language in a way that made sense. Did they teach that here? How did they make sure that no witches spilled out from Skadra and leaked all of their secrets?
When she asked this question, Kit scratched the back of his neck. “It’s the same reason why the curse professor is allowed to study soul magic despite it being illegal. All students here agree to stay in Skadra and pledge their loyalty to the Weavers. The professors are all considered honorary Weavers, but that’s really just so their research can be commandeered at any time. This university is considered Weaver territory. See all the guards?”
It was only then that Gentry realized each one of the buildings on the campus had a line formed out in front of it. Many of them were students with their books hugged to their chests. A group of three guards was at each building. Kit dragged her to one of those lines and then switch hands to stand on her other side.
The sensation of soft, smooth paper sliding against her palm had Gentry looking up at the witch in surprise. “Why are you giving me cash?”
"We’ll need it," Kit said. “Besides, I’m counting on you paying me back laterwith interest, Miss Richy-Rich. It took some looking to scrounge up a hundred-dollar bill for someone aslowly as myself." Despite his teasing words, he wasn’t looking at her, but rather over the line and at the guard.
Suddenly her heart was racing in her chest again, especially when she saw the tattoos the guards had: a black spider with a red hourglass on its abdomen. Weavers. Weavers guarding all of the campus buildings. The guard, a dark-eyed, elderly man with long silver hair, looked at them.
"IDs and purpose?" he grumbled.
Kit stepped in front of Gentry. "We're here to see Dr. D," he drawled out. "It's for one of his study lunches."
The guard's silver eyebrows rose and Gentry promptly slipped him the $100 bill, which he accepted. "Alright," he said. "Dr. D told me to only expect a female." His eyes went over to Kit’s. "Get lost."
Kit didn't move an inch. Rather, he leaned over to Gentry's ear. "There's a break room on the second floor. Go up to it and find Dr. D. You're gonna have to convince him to tell you what you need. He's expecting Visha, not you." Then he was gone.
The guard ushered Gentry in with a wave of a hand, and she numbly obeyed. Inside of the massive, columned building was the largest atrium she’d ever seen. Above she could see that the second, third, and fourth floors were all exposed so that witches could go up and down the levels on their brooms. She focused on the second floor and growled when she realized something pivotal.
There was no staircase.
twenty-eight
Kit
Kit watched with bated breath as Gentry entered the university building. He'd set her up as best as he could, but in the end, it would be up to her to convince Dr. D to cooperate. From the few times he'd met him, Kit knew that Dr. D was a snob, but he was renowned for knowing all the crazy little curses that the Weavers and more powerful covens liked to dole out like candy. The whispers on the street said the man took bribes from all the most powerful witch covens because he liked the money. Either a brave man, or a very stupid man to risk all that for the extra change. Kit leaned towards stupid.
The ritzy, snobbish professor would stand no chance against Gentry. That girl was something else.
Once her dark head disappeared into the academic building, Kit walked away towards a set of benches that were free, aware that the guard Gentry had bribed was eyeing him suspiciously. Which was definitely his own fault. The letter he’d sent to Dr. D should’ve included himself, but he hadn’t wanted to push his luck with imitating Visha’s handwriting.
He sat down. Nostalgia hit as he took in the familiar statues, water fountains, and paved walkways. Visha used to bring him here all the time. She’d wanted him to take classes. Back then, he’d thought Visha had wanted to make him better. Kit shook the memory away as he kicked his feet back, ignoring the inviting smiles college girls sent his way. It was a waste of time to remember when things were good, because those days were long gone and she'd used all that love they used to have to control him. He could see that now. He had wanted someone to tell him he was worth a damn, and Visha had provided those shallow words so easily. He’d done terrible things just to hear them.
