This admission sent a chill through Alison. Perhaps she had read one too many of those gothic novels. The vampires in them were murderous, filled with insatiable hunger.
But surely someone with that condition couldn’t last long as a university professor. And from her status, she had been here for a long time.
“There’s an infirmary here at the college. It receives a supply of blood,” said Professor Marin.
It was Keir’s turn to object. “That blood is needed. It’s a matter of life and death—”
“At times, yes,” said Professor Marin. “On those nights, I must go hungry. It doesn’t kill me to do so, but it does exhaustme. And worse, it sets back my research. But fresh blood has a limited period of usefulness. I’m given what remains once that period expires.”
“Does it taste bad?” Alison couldn’t help but asking.
“Like stale bread,” said Professor Marin. “Once every few weeks, with permission, I drink from the ‘tap,’ so to speak. There’s a woman in town—well, that’s truly none of your business. But I take only what she can spare, never a drop more. Are your curiosities sufficiently satisfied?” She surveyed the group. “Did you come here to talk about me or the machine?”
“So you don’t hurt people?” asked Weyland, unperturbed by Professor Marin’s desire to change the subject while Lady Sibba was still frightened.
“Never. Not once,” said Professor Marin. “All that nonsense about insatiable hunger is just that—nonsense. If finishing your slice of pie meant killing a sentient being, would you do it?”
“Well,” said Rinka. “What type of pie is it?”
There were laughs all around, some of them more nervous than others, but even Lady Sibba managed a chuckle.
Professor Marin turned back to the machine. It didn’t appear to be running—the water in the cylinder was not boiling—but the bulb was steadily lit.
“A power-saver?” asked Keir.
“Indeed,” said Professor Marin. “I’ve modified the reflectors somewhat to capture light from even more angles, and I’ve wired in a more appropriate ‘lectric generator than the type you used. But yes, the power-saver is the most critical addition. This kind powers the new motor carriages you’ve heard about, but there are problems with it on the scale of an entire grid. That’s what I’ve asked you to bring the samples. Leo has been helping me research a number of power-saver alternatives, and we have some ideas that we think can greatly increase the storage capacity.”
“How long will it take to test?” asked Alison.
“A week or so to go through the options you’ve provided,” said Professor Marin. “Of course, classes begin again next week, so we may want to say two weeks. Perhaps less if you’re willing to help.”
“Name it,” said Weyland. “This equipment—it’s beyond me. But I’m good with metal. I’ll do what I can.”
“What can the rest of us do?” asked Keir.
“Run tests, take measurements. The bulk of the work has to happen during the daytime. This workshop has been designed to accommodate my…particularities, but I have to sleep during the day as well. I’m certain Leo would appreciate the help.”
From across the room, Leo looked at Professor Marin with admiration. In his hand was some kind of brass instrument, undoubtedly for measuring ‘lectricity of some kind.
Suddenly, there was a loud buzzing sound from the power-saver.
“What the—” began Professor Marin, but she stopped as she saw it: a huge flash of lightning, nearly purple, going from the power-saver to the object in Leo’s hand.
“Leo!” she shouted as he collapsed to the ground.
Chapter Seven
THE ROOMMATE
Ceri
There was something wrong with Ceri’s face in the looking glass, and she knew exactly what it was.
She had returned late from her night under the stars, and she’d woken late this morning to the chaotic sound of move-in day arriving. She dressed quickly, hoping her new roommate would be there soon, but as she surveyed her appearance, she knew it just wouldn’t do.
She looked like herself. Or, more accurately, she looked like the version of herself she didn’t want to be anymore. The version of herself that had stared in the looking glass in Weldan House, sobbing over Isaac, just weeks earlier.
“No more,” said Ceri. She looked at her long silver hair, the way it fell in silky sheets over her chest, nearly touching her waist.
