“Anna, what is it?” Blake asked.
I shook my head.
“I don’t know,” I whispered. “It’s been a weird night.”
Blake shifted toward the door. “Let me get you to your dorm. I will walk you.”
I didn’t argue as we headed in the direction of my dorm. The shock of seeing my mom had left an eerie feeling lingering in my bones. I wanted to say something, but what? Had I seen a ghost? Was I hallucinating? Until I knew what was happening, it felt like I should keep this to myself.
As we walked, Blake had his hand on my back, guiding me through the maze of corridors.
“Do you like poetry, or is The Raven just fun to quote to Initiates?” I asked, recalling the first night he walked me to my dorm like this.
The pressure of Blake’s hand on my back increased.
“I only began reading it when I arrived here—it was in my room, clearly because of my lineage and the poem’s title. That was the night I found you adrift in the castle. At first, I found it amusing, but I have since finished reading it,” he said. “It resonated far more than I cared for.”
Surprised, I glanced at him. “What do you mean?”
It had been a few years since I’d read it in school, but from what I recalled, it was a gothic piece that symbolized death.
We slowed as we reached my dorm.
“It is a story for another time,” he said. “I will try not to be a tease anymore. And whatever you heard, cast it from your mind—Melanie and I are over.”
I looked away, my cheeks flushing with heat.
“Goodnight, Anna,” he murmured, and he was gone.
I pulledthe edges of my cloak tightly around my shoulders.
The weather had turned impossibly cold since the many weeks that had passed since I’d first jumped into the falls.
The snow crunched beneath my boots as I trekked across the grounds while the wind slicked across my face in brutal bursts of cold air.
My Sanctum Naturae course was a pleasant departure from the grueling study of the ancient language of Valyrian and charting the night skies by hand. If I’d known I wouldn’t have a laptop when I came here, I may have reconsidered coming at all. I massaged my right palm, the ache coming back like a bad dream.
Unfortunately, Commander Everson was on the grounds with a group of guards doing a training exercise. Had Malakai gotten to him? Had him doing his bidding? Or was he callous enough that he’d perpetuate a ridiculous rumor about me? I always knew he didn’t like me, but if he were spreading rumors, that was taking it too far.
His eyes struck mine and narrowed. Feeling oxygen ignite in my lungs like I could breathe fire, I looked away. When I finally got inside the conservatory, I shuddered and forced myself to shake the tension from my nerves. I stood there for a moment,basking in the warmth of the humid air, my skin tingling as nerves awakened.
Professor Thuvendial was a kind, older man. He practically lived out here in the conservatory, the humidity twisting his short gray hair into spirals.
“Welcome, welcome, dear girl,” he said, smiling so widely, his eyes vanished in the folds of his skin.
“Hello, professor,” I said.
I pulled my gloves off and released the clasp of my cloak. Quickly folding it, I shoved it in a small locker and retrieved my checklist.
My assignment for the last several lessons was to locate and complete a detailed description, sketch, and useful properties of each plant on my list.
I only had one left, and I’d already spent twice as long looking for it as it had taken me to find the previous twelve plants on the list.
If I couldn’t find it within the first fifteen minutes, I was giving up.
I took my binder and faced the vast array of flora before me. The conservatory was enormous. The sound of trickling water always caught my attention as it was odd in such a frozen part of the world. Plants of all sizes filled the room, splashes of red and purple, and a sea of green so dense that it was harder to see through than an early morning fog. Ivy crawled up the branches of the trees; the trunks had knots and twists that made some parts impassable. Thorn-covered vines twisted throughout, spilling into the paths that we’d tried to maintain.
The vibrant pink petals of a flowering bush dotted the path—a misleading visage at best, a deadly disguise at worst. Sometimes, I imagined the branches that hung over the paths growing as I watched, as if they could reach out and wrap theirvines and branches around me and make me a part of their world.
