“This roast is getting too hot.” My magic was slowly coming back, but I felt like I had just fought against three level four fire mages. “Let’s get out of here.”
I started toward the bottom step, gesturing for Selene to go first. She shook her head and grabbed my hand, tugging me toward her. I let her pull me close. Wind swirled around our feet and up to our chests.
She was flying us out of here.
Our ascent was quick and the landing at the top was rough. My knees bent, bracing as we landed. Selene faltered and I reached out, wrapping an arm around her. Her eyes narrowed, but she took the help as I steadied her and supported her through the door, the directory still on the basement floor.
Chapter Seventeen
Selene
Heavybreathingraspednearby,and it took me a moment to stir from my slumber, interrupting a dream of the encounter Ender and I had with theDemonherrat the other night. That much firepower had drained my magic, but when Ender joined—despite his magic being depleted—mine grew, as if it was expanding to him for strength. Between the energy and the sickly ginormous rats, it was something I wouldn’t forget any time soon. Mom had taught Viv and me about them, even though the chances of encountering one was rare. There were three ways to kill it—incinerate it, decapitation, or cut out their tongues. The later took much longer as they slowly bled out, and the cut had to be precise—if their tongue wasn’t extended and severed close to the base, it wouldn’t work.
I sat up, pushing the grey cotton sheet off my sweaty body. One glance at the clock told me it was nearly two in the morning. Sydney sat upright in her bed, her shadowy figure revealingshe was breathing heavily, her chest heaving. The lamp’s switch clicked as I turned it on, careful not to use my fire magic as a source of light. Her pale cheeks were wet with tears and she stared in front of her, clutching her red comforter. She didn’t even register that I had turned on the light.
“Sydney?” I kept my voice soft and hopped off my bed, making my way over to her. “Hey. Sydney. It’s alright.”
When she didn’t bother to look my way or seem to calm down, I climbed onto her bed next to her. I opened my mouth but before I could say anything, Sydney leaned into me. She sobbed into my shoulder and I wrapped an arm around her, too shocked to say anything.
We sat like that until she calmed down and was able to breathe. I had a feeling this was the reason she typically snuck out at night—she’d leave before she had a panic attack.
She had woken in the middle of the night last week, her face pale, her chest heaving, and tears streaming down her cheeks. Normally, I let her leave without a word, thinking that was what she wanted. This time, I had caught her before she left and just sat with her until she could breathe again. Sydney had thanked me, but she hadn’t let me in.
An hour passed after Sydney had fallen back to sleep. I, on the other hand, was not going to be able to sleep. The room was dark and the dorms were quiet at the early hour of four in the morning on a Monday—and the darkness would stay until midmorning.Thanks, Alaska.I missed the sunny days back home in the Caribbean. And I missed coffee. But I had given it up after Mom passed, despite the raging caffeine withdrawal headaches. It reminded me too much of her.
Mom’s senior yearbook sat at the foot of my bed, and I stared at the unexciting black and gold synthetic leather cover. Leaving the Fives Academy directory on the basement floor had stung. I was hoping to be able to use it to cross-reference earth magescurrently at the academy—or even from my mother’s class—and figure out who was attacking me. The photos didn’t appear to be helpful. At least I had the yearbook. Someone at the academy had attacked me and it might lead me to them. They could’ve known Mom.
The bed groaned as I sat up and grabbed the book. I didn’t want to wake Sydney, so I snuck out of our room and made my way to the rooftop. A soft breeze swirled around my messy bed hair. The leaves rustling and the occasional chirp from an early bird were the only sounds on campus. Light reflecting off the half-moon cast over the grounds, giving just enough glow to be able to see.
Movement in the field coming from the direction of the main building caught my attention and I knelt, taking cover behind the parapet. I didn’t want a teacher, or the night guard, to spot me. As the figure came closer to the dorms, I relaxed, realizing it was just David. He was dressed for the day and appeared to be holding a book, like he had tried to go to the library. A small twinge of disappointment struck my gut.Had I seriously been hoping it was Ender?
I shook the thought away and turned my back against the parapet, focusing on the yearbook. My finger grazed the straw wrapper I had used as a bookmark and opened the book to that page and then flipped it to the next one.
My finger halted at the edge of the paper.
Was I seeing doubles?
I slid the yearbook across the desk in front of the librarian, the binding not sliding across the wood as easily as I’d hoped.When it was evident John wouldn’t be in his office before classes started, I went to the next person who I thought would give me answers. I pointed to a single picture among the rows of squared portraits.
“Ah, yes.” The librarian adjusted his glasses as he looked at the picture I pointed to.Mark Hastings, Librarianwas captured underneath. “After many years, the photos are homogenous. I would like to believe this particular year is the same.”
I blinked at Mr. Hastings, my finger still pointing to his younger profile. If he was indicating that he looked similar to what he had looked like thirty-plus years ago, I wasn’t going to comment. I glanced back down at the yearbook and flipped the page I’d marked with a straw wrapper, revealing a picture of four smiling students.
“My mom had a sister.” I tapped the picture of the girl next to Mom, their features almost identical. While I had been pacing outside of John’s office earlier, I had scanned the student section of the yearbook and found that the other woman in this photo was named Victoria Thomas.
“Yes.” Mr. Hastings nodded. “It was tragic when she had passed not many years after graduating. She was far too young. They both were.”
“What do you mean bytheyboth were?” I questioned, and Mr. Hastings merely tilted his head, studying me.
A student practically ran into the desk, breathing so heavily that her long black hair flew away from her face with each breath.
“I left my assignment in here last night, and it’s not at the table where I was!” she said in alarm. “Do you know where it is? Can you please help me find it? Please, Mr. Hastings? It’s due first class!”
She looked at her watch, her eyes bulging when she realized first period started in five minutes. Mr. Hastings faced me, bowing slightly.
“You are special, Selene. Just like your parents.” Mr. Hastings turned and left to help the complaining student, who was already speed-walking off toward a few desks.
My head swiveled in his direction, and I forced myself not to follow suit and demand answers. He had known myparents—not just Mom.Who else had known?
