“My mother taught me everything my sister and I needed to know.” She flinched, and I couldn’t help but notice her use of the past tense. I could relate—my parents were gone. Priscilla Hart raised me and was the only blood relative I had. She was a distant cousin, but she took me in like I had been her own, and so had Mr. Scott, her elderly assistant—we had called him the house manager.
“Sounds like she was very knowledgeable.” I nodded.
“She was.” Selene went back to her book.
I ignored her blatant hints to leave her alone and sat next to her, intrigued by Selene Thomas, even if she wasn’t going to tell me anything. Talking wasn’t the only way to learn things about someone—actions alone spoke a great deal.
Selene closed her book and huffed. “Seriously. What do you want?”
“I’m just enjoying the sun.” I grinned. Something about the blush of irritation on her cheeks warmed me. Her honest refutation, instead of groveling like the other academy girls, was refreshing. I didn’t deny my good looks, and I trained hard. Some of the lusting led to resentment by other students.
Selene went to stand.
“Wait.” I put up a hand, stopping her. “How did you know the academy was in danger?”
She eyed me for a moment before slowly settling back down. Her gaze was locked on the grass in front of her as she cracked each knuckle of her right hand with her thumb.
“Something felt off. I thought I heard a scream in the woods,” she said after some hesitation.
Huh. She was going to talk—at least a little.
“What do you mean,felt off?” After she had stood up that day, I had suddenly felt a bit ill, but I hadn’t known why.
“I’m not sure.” She took a deep breath. “Did you tell anyone”—the cracking sound of her knuckles drew my attention to her hand and then back to her—“what happened … what I did?”
“No.” I met her gaze as she watched me with regard. “And I won’t.”
The headmaster had talked to me briefly, but I hadn’t told him exactly what she did. Ivy never asked, and Gwen had no recollection of that afternoon. I had a feeling Selene didn’t want anyone to know. She had torn apart the sides of a mountain. Her power was stronger than mine as a level four, and that wasn’t common.
She had to be a level five earth mage.
Chapter Ten
Selene
Islammedthebookshut,the sound echoing through the massive library. A few students glanced my way. It was Thursday afternoon and most students were attempting to finish their assignments before the weekend. None of them seemed concerned about the event that took place Monday; that is, if they were even aware of the danger they could’ve been in if the rock creatures made it to campus.
The library was the most beautiful, enchanted library I’d ever been in—the only library I’d ever been in—and a fresh sage aroma should have helped quell my anxiety, but it crept along my skin, staying attached like little weights. I rocked back in the wooden chair and shoved aside the book I’d been skimming, revealing dark knots in the wooden table.
There hadn’t been a single book that contained any useful information about who may have killed Mom. The black circle on the dark mage’s palm must indicate they were from a clan, asJohn had suggested, but I couldn’t find any locations of previous clans or names. The books barely even touched on blood or dark magic. It mentioned that dark mages, if powerful enough, had some control of all the other elements—which I knew—and basically stated how terrified you should be if you ever encountered aturned mage who dipped into dark magic and killed an innocent, consuming their soul.
I let my head fall back, sighing at the massive glass-domed ceiling, then glanced at the upper two levels of the library. Three stories with stone bookcases all filled, and I’d come up empty so far.
My mother had told me stories of the dangerous spells hidden in the books in the academy’s forbidden basement, and I believed I had encountered it Monday. There was something else I wanted to look into before planning to sneak into Fives Academy’s basement. I stood, slinging my bag over my shoulder, and grabbed my books. I placed them in the return cart and headed over to the librarian’s desk where a tall, slender man with grey-speckled black hair stood.
“Miss Thomas.” The elderly librarian nodded. “Checking out another book?”
“Not at the moment.” I had taken the first book without checking it out and it had practically seared my hands the moment I stepped out of the library. The academy took great care keeping its books safe and accounted for. “I was hoping you could tell me where the yearbooks are kept?” I specified to the librarian one of the years my mother had attended.
“Ah.” The librarian adjusted his wood-framed glasses. “Your mother’s senior year.”
I tensed but told my body to relax and carefully chose my next words. “Youknowmy mother?”
“Yes.” His head slightly tilted before giving me a warm smile, and I couldn’t tell if my lack of past tense had thrown him off. “I’ve been here awhile. You look just like her.”
“I get that a lot,” I lied, not wanting to give anything away about my previously secluded life and unsure if he knew what had happened to my mother. “Did you know her well?”
“Not particularly well,” The librarian said. “She did visit the library daily.”
