“I, ah, already ate,” I say hastily. “Had a protein bar on me—not that hungry. I’ve got some research to do in the library for the Lucent History report.”
Mia deflates a bit. Stella doesn’t show any disappointment, but her bright brown gaze feels abruptly penetrating. “Are you sure? You’re not that worried about the report, are you?”
I manage to laugh off her concern. “Not really, just can’t slack off forever. I’ll see you in Curative Magic this afternoon.” Where we learn how to make a half-assed effort at healing ourselves if we’re too impatient to wait for the nurses.
“Okay!” Mia waggles her fingers in a good-bye wave.
As they weave through the other students down the hall, I twist my fingers against the locker door to engage the personally keyed locking system. Not that it’s going to ward off other small presents from being deposited, if someone’s so inclined.
If anyone’s inclined to drop off a dossier on Other Elodie’s assassin, I’d sure appreciate it.
Since that obviously isn’t happening any time soon, I figure actually going to the library isn’t a bad idea. It prevents my friends from catching me in a lie, and I can do research that might be helpful for things other than school reports.
I’ve been living in Other Elodie’s house for ten days, and I barely know anything about what the Devines have been up to in this world that might be different from my own. Even in my own world, I didn’t pay much attention to my grandparents’ affairs.
They wished I didn’t exist, which made remembering thattheyexisted twice as painful.
The academy library has a section with news articles on various developments in the lucent community, from new businesses opened to committees founded to election into public office. Maybe something Other Elodie’s relatives got up to in the past year or two would give me a hint about what she got wrapped up in or why she’d have been targeted.
Wouldn’t it be the worst irony to realize that no matter what she was meddling in, her death had nothing to do withherat all?
Luminary’s library is housed in the foreboding, vine-draped Apollo Building between the main senior and junior faculties. I slip past the heavy double doors, dodge a couple of whispering preteens who’ve just come up from the radiant shrine in the basement, and venture into the depths of the maze of bookshelves.
The earthy scent of linseed oil fills my lungs. At least half of the volumes are leatherbound treatises from more than a century back. The librarians take more care with them than any of the professors do with their students.
I make my way to the nook toward the back of the building. A sliver of warm sunshine spills through a narrow window next to the built-in shelves that hold much less impressive-looking publications of spiral-bound printer paper.
I’m reaching for one of the most recent volumes when the floorboards creak behind me.
My palm tingles with a flutter of sensation that condenses into a sting. With a tugging hitch of my pulse, I glance over my shoulder.
Cole’s tall, lean frame blocks my escape route. He glowers down at me, his dark gray eyes even stormier than usual. Despite his neat button-up and suit jacket, a crackle of wild energy wafts off him.
He takes a step closer, his stance tensed. “What are you doing here, Miss Devine? Looking up more insider secrets to make it easier to cheat?”
The angry gravel in his voice puts my nerves on the alert—and scrapes up against my previous annoyance with him.
I turn to face him, bracing myself. “What are you talking about?”
His voice gets even rougher. “Your last assignment was to make a prediction based onephemera, not gossip you overheard or confidential conversations at home.”
What in Quetzalcoatl’s name is he going on about?
My irritation flares hotter. “Ididuse my divinatory skills—and nothing else.” Skills the Cole in my world coached me on, for fuck’s sake, not that this guy would dream of such generosity. “Why would you think I didn’t?”
He makes a low scoffing sound that does something low in my belly, not entirely pleasant but not entirelynoteither. “You’ve been only slightly above average in those skills the entire time I’ve taught you. Now suddenly you’re pulling once-in-a-decade predictions out of your ass? I don’t think so. How did you really know Mrs. Tran was going to quit this weekend?”
Alongside the smoldering frustration, a flicker of triumph passes through me. Ididn’tknow the headmaster’s long-time administrative assistant was going to leave—not for sure. But the ephemera I examined around her office gave me hints of arguments, ignored concerns, and a request for a copy of her employment contract from one of the lower secretaries.
It was a lucky but educated guess. A good one, it sounds like.
I smile at Cole, though my jaw is tight behind it. “You told us to aim high. That seemed like a big enough prophecy to impress you if I nailed it. I didn’t expect you to go nailingmeto a cross over it.”
Cole’s eyes flash. “I’d be impressed if I had the slightest faith that you’d come up with the idea through magic.”
He doesn’t, though. Not one shred. Just like he wouldn’t have when I was outcast, worthless Miss Singh, before our match forced him to give me more of a chance.
I’m never going to win with him.
