“Admission starts at sixteen,” he said, leading the way down the steps. “But some are sent younger. Not often but…it happens. This will be their life now.” He sounded almost sorry for them.
“Because of some agreement made between the bloodlines?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Someone had to take responsibility for keeping our world safe from the Horrors and Echoes spawned by this land.”
Stepping out from beneath the porch with no cover from the elements, an icy breeze trickled over my skin. I buttoned up my wool coat.
Vitra seemed unbothered by the chill, ambling along as if it were a summer day.
“Spawned? You make it sound as if the earth itself creates them.”
“Maybe it does. The forest is a beast unlike any other.”
“There has to be more to it than that.”
“Oh yes, much more, and you’ll learn all about it in History of Nightsbridge.”
He swerved away from the path that led down the mountain, taking me toward an ivy-covered arch.
“Why can’tyoutell me?”
“And risk the wrath of Mistress Selethis? No, thank you.” He glanced down at me. “History is her forte, and you’ll learn everything you need in her class.”
“Wait a second, didn’t you just get assigned to me as a mentor?”
He smiled. “I did, which makes you a very lucky woman.” Was he flirting with me? “I am an excellent mentor,” he continued. “But it isn’t my job to educate you on history. My job is to help you settle in at Nightsbridge and provide guidance should you have any problems.”
Okay, so he wasn’t flirting, and why was I disappointed about that? I cleared my throat. “Does everyone get a mentor or am I special?”
He slid a tawny-eyed glance my way. “You’re the last of your bloodline, Miss Onyx. Of course, you’re special.”
The narrow, cobbled path twisted ahead. I wanted to ask where we were going, but when I opened my mouth, that wasn’t the question that spilled out. “How long have you two been together?”
The corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. “Almost two years.” He didn’t sound surprised that I knew, but then, like everyone kept telling me, news was currency.
“She’s not Arcanus, is she?”
“No.”
I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. “What is she?”
He chuckled. “Constance is a lamia.” I opened my mouth to ask him what that was, but he cut me off and continued. “And if you want to know what that is, you’ll have to find out for yourself.”
A squat brick building with lime-green shutters and a shiny gold weathervane on the roof came into view.
“What is that place?”
“Port station,” Vitra said. “There are a few scattered around campus.”
There were crystals embedded in the wall, and he tapped them quickly in a combination that I barely managed to catch and file away.
The door clicked open, and I followed him inside.
The room was empty, its walls lined with arches of various colors.
