She obeys and steadies her breathing, but her eyes flicker open again. Dorian stands above her, haloed by moonlight.
“Is it the same for you, Dorian?”
“In what sense?”
“If you desire something, does it make you stronger?”
A deep laugh rumbles behind his lips. “It makes me ravenous.”
“Enough to free yourself?”
He runs a claw down her face with enough pressure to sting but not enough to draw blood. “I suppose we’ll find out.”
When Claudia wakes, Dorian’s flower is still in her hair, and Bishop has returned with another diary entry dangling from his mouth.
September 13th
I was torn between Lamour’s offer and his warning—stay to learn the stars at the risk of death, or leave, lose my magic, and survive.
How could anyone make that choice?
In the end, I didn’t. I hung my fate on the lips of a beautiful girl.
Her name is Marcherie Andres. She is a Musices student—the best of them. I saw her on the very first day, and I swear, I felt the world cant. I was sitting in the Treaty with Cassius—my friend from Rhetoric—and Angel, a Mathematica major. They were speaking to me, but I couldn’t hear them. Couldn’t make sense of anything other than her. She was all the way across the room, but it’s like every other sound sank beneath the melody she was humming. It was a siren song, and it felt like she was singing it for me.
I decided that if I had to leave Cygnus, I would not do it without having kissed her just once. And if the kiss was worth dying for, then I would stay.
Yesterday, I sat with Cassius and Angel in the Treaty again, staring at Marcherie at her faraway table with her fellow sopranos.
- Angel, are you willing to break a rule for me?
- I’m willing to break any rule worth breaking, he said, and he winked.
- Good. I need you to perform some mathematical magic without bringing in a professor for supervision. This is a private matter.
- Easy. Go on.
- I’ve read that Caedisterra grants the gift of chance. You Mathematica majors can calculate the chances of anything, correct?
- Correct, he said.
- Someone is scheming, Cassius interjected, all singsongy.
I laughed but kept my eyes on Angel.
- Perfect. Here is the calculation I need: What are the odds I can get that girl to kiss me?
- Who, Marcherie? he asked.
I hated hearing her name in someone else’s mouth.
- Yes, Marcherie.
He and Cassius looked at each other and laughed so loudly it shook the table. I glared at them and balled my fists.
- What’s so funny? You think I’m not good enough for her?
- Easy, easy, Cassius said.
