Warmth spreads in her chest when she stares into his wild eyes. She can’t help but smile.
This is perfect. This will save her. “You mean I’ll be able to getout of this whole thing without anyone dying?”
His lips curl over his teeth, and he shakes his head. “That’s not what I said.”
She stiffens in his grasp. “What do you—”
Someone knocks on the classroom door. Wide-eyed, they hurriedly erase the board before Lamour opens it.
“Hello there,” High Sage Triche says cheerily as he bumbles into the classroom. “I was hoping to discuss your—oh, hello, Miss Jolicoeur. Am I interrupting something?”
Lamour turns fast on his heels. “No, we were going over some questions regarding the sublime.”
“Ah, is this how Miss Jolicoeur has advanced so quickly? You’ve been helping her after hours?”
“I answer her questions, yes.”
The High Sage beams at both of them. “You’re a good one, Lamour.” He steps toward the desk, his face eager, his voice gossipy. “I have some sensitive information to discuss. Miss Jolicoeur, if you could please excuse us?”
Her wide eyes swing to Lamour. They can’t stop now. They’re so close.
“Professor, I still have questions to ask,” she protests, standing firm. The High Sage narrows his eyes at her, curiously.
Lamour nods. “Go on, Claudia. I’ll answer all your questions in the next lesson.” He drags out the last word.
Lesson. Not class—lesson.
Tonight at midnight. In the observatory.
It’s time for their training to begin again.
LOVE
Take root in me.
Plant your teeth like seeds.
My skin, your earth,
My sex, your sea.
Dolericym, God of Song and Sorrow
Tonight at midnight, everything will be fixed. Everything will be perfect. There will be a cost, but at this point, Claudia doesn’t care what—or who—it is. As long as she gets to keep her life and Cassius gets to keep his, she’ll do whatever it takes. Desperate times call for merciless measures.
Filled with a newfound hope, Claudia goes to the Treaty for breakfast. She smiles when she walks into the room and sees her friends. Alistair, Angel, Marcherie, and Cassius are all sitting together at their table. The four of them wordlessly look up at herat the same time. Their eyes widen as Claudia approaches on her own for the first time in weeks.
“Hi,” she says excitedly.
They don’t speak until Cassius says, “Hi.”
“May I sit?”
They look at one another warily before they all nod.
While she sits with them, warming in their presence, color and sweetness seep back into the world—Marcherie’s lavender-and-chamomile cookies; the earthy scent of Alistair’s breakfast tea; Angel’s black coffee and fresh scones; Cassius’s peaches drenched in honey. All this time, everything has smelled and tasted like nothing. Now, coming back to life, everything looks divine. It’s like she’s been given a second chance at life, and all the things she’s taken for granted are now little miracles. The music of spoons clinking in porcelain teacups; the way her chair creaks below her because the legs are slightly uneven; looking into a loved one’s eyes. They’re all so beautiful. For the first time, she’s noticing hidden cuts of color in all of them. She once thought Alistair’s were all brown, but they’re not—they’re sliced with green blades like the first day of spring. And Marcherie’s aren’t brown, either; they’re reddish and gold, like pomegranate seeds in a gilded bowl. Angel’s eyes are so dark they’re almost black, and they shine like pure obsidian.
And then, of course, there’s Cassius. Bright, deep, raging blue. A swirl of thin clouds and rough waters and drops of midnight. There is so much beauty here. So much she almost missed. So much she’ll appreciate now that she knows how it would feel to lose it.
