Sighing, I turned to face her. “You need to listen. We can talk about this after class.”
“I know, but we have another class right after this and then dinner. I wanted to have a plan before we?—”
“Gwendolyn!”
I flinched at Balthazar’s booming voice and closed my eyes, already knowing what was coming.
“Am Iboringyou?” Balthazar said, his boots thudding as he strode over to stand in front of his niece.
“No, sir,” Wendy muttered, unable to meet his gaze.
“Perhaps this is too advanced a topic for someone your age,” he said, and Wendy visibly winced.
“I think it might be best if you go on to your room until dinner,” he said.
“Yes, sir,” Wendy said miserably, stuffing her things into her bag before hurrying out of the room.
At least she wasn’t crying.
“I’m sorry she disturbed you, Veronica,” Balthazar said before continuing his lecture.
I didn’t like that she’d been chastised in front of the whole class, but a few hours away from Wendy would be nice. We’d spent nearly every waking moment together since the other night. I liked the kid, and enjoyed being around her, but I couldn’t hangout with her all the time. I had my studies to worry about. None of this came as easy to me as it did to people like Wendy or Virgil. Maybe this would keep her from being so attached to me. It was fine now, but if she kept it up, I’d have to tell her to give me some space, and that probably wouldn’t go well. I hoped this might help with that aspect. The last thing I wanted was for her to feel bad.
Though, even as I thought it, a heavy wave of guilt washed over me. She was just a kid desperate for a friend. It wasn’t like she wastryingto be a nuisance. I shouldn’t be happy about Wendy getting sent off to her room like a child.
On the way to the next class, I was again struck by how different this place was from high school. It wasn’t as cliquey. Part of what made the Freedman Coven elite was the way Balthazar had built a family atmosphere among the students and full coven members. It was also why he limited admissions to keep the total number of students at or below fifty. The small size made it feel more homey and cozy.
In the next class, my guilt over Wendy being sent to her room only worsened as Instructor Carrigan, a chunky man with mutton-chop sideburns, did glamour demonstrations, changing his facial hair into multiple styles and colors before stopping on an Abe Lincoln-style beard. Wendy would have loved it, especially since she was already fairly skilled at that branch of magic.
After the final class of the day, I hurried to the library. I wanted to grab a couple books I needed to study, and reading through them would keep my mind off Wendy.
Everyone had gone to the dining hall, even Ms. Anderson, the librarian, so the library was completely dark. I flipped on thelights and hurried down the rows, my stomach growling as I looked for the books.
I grabbed two books on runes, then dug around until I found the other one I needed to read. When my fingers closed on the leather binding ofStolen Pantheon: How Roman Magi Absconded with Deities Not Their Own, I let out a sigh of relief. The ridiculously long and laborious title glimmered in gold leaf letters. We’d covered a section on the ancient gods, and this was one of the best tomes to give info on a certain subsect that would be on the test. I was worried someone else might have already checked it out.
Tucking the books into my satchel, I swung it over my shoulder, then quickly scribbled my name and the titles on the check-out registry at the front desk.
I managed to get to the dining hall before the main course had been served. Taking a seat a bit farther down from many of the students, I openedStolen Pantheon, flipping past the dry-as-a-bone foreword, and got to the first chapter as the food came out.
Chef Lee was a gastronomy sorcerer and specialized in making food that could alter a person’s personality for short periods. He’d worked in a highly rated restaurant in Chicago before Balthazar recruited him to teach at the academy. The restaurant’s reviews tanked pretty much as soon as Chef Lee left, and it closed within a year. Along with teaching, one of his duties was preparing the daily meals. He didn’t even need staff to help—his magical skill was such that he could do it all by himself.
Five students moved out from the kitchen, carrying plates and dispersing them. The students who served were on weekly rotations. It would be my turn in a couple weeks. Gavin Connelly, a man roughly my age, put a plate down in front of me.He grinned at me, his dark, curly hair falling across his forehead. He was cute, and I might have asked him out if not for the fact that he was gay and obviously not interested in me.
“Good evening, Veronica,” he said in a deep, rumbling voice. “Chef has prepared a roasted, bone-in pork loin, seasoned with garlic and rosemary, charredharicot vertswith balsamic honey glaze, and pureed root vegetables with butter and cream.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Gavin, this is pork chops with green beans and mashed potatoes. No need to gild the lily here, it already looks delicious enough.”
He shrugged. “What can I say? I enjoy pomp and circumstance,” he said and ran a hand through his hair, looking every bit the dashing movie star.
“I can’t argue with that,” I said, chuckling as he walked away.
I ate and read, tuning out the dull roar of conversation around the room. The history laid out in the text was fairly interesting, especially that of all the gods, and the fact that, despite what many people in theregularworld thought, they were very real and even walked among us at times.
It was still strange to think that many of the old gods mentioned were still around. Some walked the streets of cities at that very moment, others hovering in whatever astral plane they called home and watching us from their golden and crystal towers.
“Veronica, may I see you in my office for a moment?”
I froze, my eyes glued to a line about an ancient temple that had been destroyed as I tried to figure out whether I’d imagined Balthazar calling out my name. All around me, the conversations quickly died, leaving us in silence.
