“Even wild things rot if they go unchallenged. Power without interruption breeds arrogance. And arrogance makes a court weak.”
“So she implemented the trials to keep the courts strong.” I paused. “But is it really beneficial for a court to sacrifice dozens of their strongest?”
“It’s a sacrifice.” Dorian closed the book. “A necessary one to keep us sharp.”
“Is that history speaking,” I asked, “or you?”
He breathed out. “I don’t suppose the difference matters.”
Pomp and dominance.
And he had no power to change it.
“So you’re fine with dying?”
“I didn’t say that.” He rose and stepped past me, toward a far bookshelf. Always turning elsewhere when I prodded at him. “That’s all for today.”
I stood, turning after him. “Teach me to use magic.”
It was the sentence that had thrummed through me since the moment I’d seen his fingers spark.
His step faltered. Not by much—just an increment—before he recovered. He didn’t look back at me when he stopped in front of the bookcase. “Why would you ask me that?”
“Why wouldn’t I ask you that?”
He stayed unmoving, face turned away. “You’re human, Eurydice.”
So that was it? A human couldn’t use magic? “But you can’t know unless you try. Have you ever tried to teach a human magic?”
His shoulders dropped, and he reached up and slid a book out. “No human has ever been able to use magic. Not once in history.” When he turned back toward me, those shadows had returned under his eyes. “And now you should leave.”
I didn’t move, the cold truth sliding through me. “So that’s why we’re fucked.”
He flipped open the book, paging through it. “Among other reasons.”
And yet…I stepped toward him. “I saw it, you know.”
His gaze flicked up, dark eyes intense. “Saw what?”
“Yesterday, in the forest. I saw it on you, around you. Like hard rain.” I ran a hand over my own shoulder. “Where does it come from?”
He paused. A beat, two. “Our dead.”
“Yourdead?”
“All who have died flow into the earth, and all magic we draw flows out of it.” His fingers rubbed together. “That’s enough. There’s much more to teach you on the morrow.”
I hated waiting. Had always hatedwaiting. Maybe that was why I’d started climbing the wall before the age of eight. “Teach me now. I’m not tired.”
His mouth twisted. “Your eyes are two holes in your face.”
“Doesn’t stop them from working.”
He crossed behind his desk and dropped the book onto it with a clap. That mask had come back down. “It’s time for you to leave. I’ll come for you in the morning.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I’d never tell Dorian,but he was right.
