Olivier continues with, “You each will get to ask him five questions in hopes of gleaning new truths that will better your argument.”
Catching her breath, Claudia looks up at Cassius. What about his curse? He can’t ask Malevimus anything. Or, at least, he can’t hear the answer. “But Cassius can’t—”
“Claudia.” His voice is a warning.
Oh.
Olivier doesn’t know. Claudia had assumed that he was only keeping it a secret from other classmates—not their professors. Clearly, that’s not the case. But then why in any god’s name would he share such intimate details—of his family, his curse, and his whole life—with Claudia?
Their professor charges a whole foot ahead of them.
Quietly, Claudia says, “Why are you doing this if you can’t talk to the gods at all? What’s the point?”
“The point is that my professors don’t know about my curse, and I need to keep it that way.”
They pass a series of portraits depicting the dozens of professors at Cygnus. High Sage Triche’s portrait hangs at the very end. It looks significantly older than the others—the gold frame has lost much of its luster and the painting itself has yellowed significantly. He wears his signature sweet smile, almost silly with how it slides to the side and makes his sparkly eyes crinkle.
“Does the High Sage know?” Claudia asks.
Cassius stiffens and nods. They keep walking, careful not to fall too far behind Olivier.
“Well, it’s not fair if I can talk to Malevimus and you can’t.”
He scoffs, smoothing his robe over his chest. “I’ve won every debate without his guidance. I’m not worried.”
“It’s a matter of principle. If you can’t talk to him, I won’t, either.”
What happens next could’ve been an accident, or a hallucination, but Claudia feels Cassius’s hand brush against hers as theywalk, and his fingers—only for a second or two—tangle with hers.
When they reach the doors to the chapel, Olivier pushes them open. The red candle for Malevimus is lit upon the pulpit. Claudia can smell the magic waiting inside. It’s warmer and spicier than celestial magic—like sandalwood and the sweet sweat of someone you love.
Olivier clears her throat. “Who’s first?”
“Go ahead, Jolicoeur,” Cassius says, gesturing into the room.
“But—”
“I insist.” He smiles softly. He means it. “Go.”
She looks at Olivier, unsure.
The professor smiles. “Don’t be scared. I’ll be right here on the other side of the door. Remember, you get five questions. Be careful with the wording. It’s all about how you phrase them. Ask wrong, and you’ll come away with absolutely nothing. Ask correctly, and you may uncover a secret of the universe.” She leans in, squeezing Claudia’s shoulder. “I think you’ll be selected for debate many times, Miss Jolicoeur. You’re a strong rhetorician. No matter what happens inside the chapel, I’m sure you will get another chance. Simply do what feels right.”
With a deep breath, Claudia releases some of her nerves and relaxes her shoulders. She nods, stepping inside. The door slams behind her, forcing a rush of wind at her back. She walks forward toward the only light in the room.
Her steps echo against the stone walls. As silent as it is, she knows she’s not alone. By whatever instinct tells an animal that a predator is near, she can sense Malevimus in the room. His presence is significantly stronger than when she first came here and lit the red candle. That whole ritual was merely opening the door of her mind for Malevimus. Now he’s stepped inside. She’s never felt this much power from anyone or anything before—not even Dorian.
This is the difference between a devil and a god.
When she reaches the pulpit, she steels her spine and clears her throat. “Hello, Malevimus,” she says, for she’s not sure if they’re meant to exchange pleasantries before she asks her questions.
Cloying sweetness builds on her tongue when the walls of the chapel quake and tremble. On the pulpit, the red candle glows brighter, devouring the darkness around it.
A rich, tinny voice warms up in a distant throat. The air changes with his breath. The feel of his thick, deep voice shocks her.
“Hello, Claudia.”
Through deep breaths, she tries to stay calm. She knows she’s supposed to ask questions about the debate, but she can’t help herself. There’s so much more she wants—no,needs—to know. Malevimus bestows the gift of truth, which means he could tell her what really happened before she arrived.
