“That’s incredible,” Isla murmured.
“Yes, it can be, but it can also feel ... intrusive. You learn more about people than you ever wanted to. That kind of power can consume if you let it. Philosophers say fire is truth—it purifies, reveals, transforms. It can show you who people are, whether you want to see it or not.”
They walked on in silence as Isla thought about her words. She could see Juliette’s worry. It would be useful to sense lies, but maybe ignorance was bliss; lies could be hurtful.
The distant bells of the Minster suddenly echoed behind them.
As the bells hushed, Isla heard the men’s footsteps closing the distance behind them. A mischievous spark lit Juliette’s face.
“Though,” she said, lowering her voice to a playful whisper, “where a certain detective is concerned, I am finding that seeing the truth behind his words isveryilluminating. I’ve been enjoying trying to solve this puzzle.”
Isla’s tone was playful but carried a warning for her younger friend. “Be careful, Juliette. Some puzzles can be rather difficult.”
Juliette’s lips curved into a smile. “Then I suppose I’ll just have to be patient.”
“Ladies,” Andrew said cheerfully, “we thought we’d better catch up to make sure you don’t drive off without us.”
“Perish the thought,” Juliette replied, looping her arm through Edmund’s before he could object.
Isla noticed Edmund stiffen almost imperceptibly, his jaw tightening, though she couldn’t say he looked offended, only unsure about her friend’s lack of concern about hisThis is my bubble; do not enter zoneaura that he gave off to those around him.She hoped her friend knew what she was doing and wouldn’t get hurt.
“In fact, I was just saying how grateful I’d be for your company, Edmund. Isla and I have just been discussing control over our Aetheric gifts, and as you strike me as a man who has mastered the art of self-control, I really could use some advice.”
Edmund studied her face. “I fear, Miss Juliette, that your company makes such composure somewhat difficult to maintain,” he said evenly.
“I’m sure it does.” Juliette beamed, as if he had paid her the highest of compliments. “Still, I am undeterred and seek your wisdom.”
Isla caught a snort of laugher from Andrew’s direction. She looked up at him and found amusement glinting in his eyes as he watched petite Juliette drag the large man along the Bar Walls of York.
“Do you think he needs a rescue?” he murmured.
“I don’t know. She usually gets what she wants,” Isla said dryly, glancing ahead at Juliette chatting animatedly to Edmund, who looked as though he wasn’t entirely sure how he’d been outmaneuvered. “I don’t think there’s any hope for him, even if we do stage a rescue.”
Andrew offered his arm, mirroring their friends ahead of them. She took it.
“You know,” he said, “Edmund and I couldn’t help but hear some of Juliette’s story. I’ve heard it before, mind you, but still—it’s tragic that sometimes Aetherians discover their abilities without anyone there to support them. She must have been terrified that day.”
Isla pondered his words. “As difficult as it’s been for me, you’re right. I am extremely grateful I had people around me whom I could ask questions.”
“Even me?” Andrew asked, his tone jaunty.
She thought to banter back—as was their usual rhythm, an insult wrapped in a joke—but when she looked over, she saw something uncertain behind his glasses. There was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, and suddenly she didn’t want to spar with him. She didn’t want to compete. She wanted to know him better. Perish the thought that she liked Andrew! After all, he had saved her, cared for her, supported her and fed her cake—and really, what girl doesn’t want to be fed cake?
She was aware of Andrew’s presence more than ever before. Looking back on their so-called rivalry, she admitted to herself that he had never truly been against her. Yes, he had always sought her out only to ruffle her feathers, but unlike so many other men in the academic world, Andrew had treated her as an equal. More than that—he had competed with her as if he knew, without doubt, that she was capable of rising to the task. When she thought about it—really thought about it—he had never belittled her in their competitions, not once.
Now, he encouraged her. He was also determined to keep her safe.
Had she been wrong to ever find him so infuriating? Perhaps. Was he truly so maddening, or had his brand of irritation been the kind that kept her on her toes? Had she enjoyed being maddened by him? Perhaps. There was a difference, and she was beginning to suspect it mattered very much.
Isla stopped walking and slipped her arm free as this revelation settled in her. She placed both hands on the stone walland looked out over the beautiful city she called home. When she turned, she found Andrew had stopped beside her. He wasn’t looking at her—his gaze was fixed ahead, intent and thoughtful—but she sensed his attention on her, waiting, as though her next words mattered more than he would be willing to admit.
“You know, Andrew,” she said quietly, “I think I owe you both an apology and a thank you.”
“You don’t owe me an apology, Isla.” He still looked forward, but a smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “But I’ll take the thanks.”
She laughed softly. “No, let me get this out. I always thought you didn’t approve of me as a professor. As a woman, I felt I had to fight for my place.”
“I didn’t mean to make you feel that,” he replied, his voice low and sincere. “And I’m terribly sorry that was the impression I gave.”
