I left early. I didn’t have any friends of my own left at school anyway. I had been the only eighteen-year-old left.
I couldn’t bring myself to go straight home, though. As uncomfortable as school had been, my family weren’t much better—tiptoeing around me as if I was still an invalid.
At least the visit to my school had provided the information that the sealing ceremony was to take place in two days’ time. I would give myself those two days to wallow and grieve, I decided. And after the sealing ceremony was complete—sealingthe hopes of my childhood and youth with it—I would think about the future and try to find a way to start fresh.
The thought seemed impossible. Despite my mother’s attempts, I had defiantly refused to think about any other future path than being sealed and joining the University’s commonborn class. At most, I had sometimes wondered if I might accept an offer of a job from Faylee after I was sealed, rather than attending the University. But given she was a Robart, I had never seriously considered it.
My steps led me aimlessly around the familiar streets that lay between my school and home. I knew this section of the lower city so well that I didn’t need to pay attention to my path.
The thoughts that consumed me were unrelentingly dark. I had been overlooked for sealing again, rendering pointless every effort I had undertaken to ingratiate myself with my teacher. I had put myself in danger for nothing, and in the process I had given Zakary—the first mage I had ever properly met—a disgust of me. Even Faylee must have given up on me. Despite gifting me the compositions, she hadn’t come to check on me since, so I could only assume Zakary had met with her and delivered the letter as promised.
“Aria!”
The unfamiliar voice calling my name made me start and look up. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. If one of the locals—used to seeing me dashing back and forth between school and home—offered sympathy and commiseration, it would be unbearable.
But the young man who strode to my side wasn’t a local. I stared at Zakary, trying to take in his presence. He was dressed as he had been at our first meeting—his appearance blending in with the commonborn population.
I wasn’t at risk of mistaking him for a commonborn this time, however. His face had been burned on my memory after our short but intense interaction. And now that I was seeinghim without the dishevelment of our first meeting, I could see subtle signs that he didn’t fit. He carried himself with confidence despite his age, and his clothes, though understated, were well made and perfectly fitted to him.
“What are you doing here?” I blurted out, too shocked for niceties.
He glanced up and down the street before seizing my arm. Dragging me behind him, he hurried into a side alley, igniting memories of the attack.
I pulled my arm free and tried to peer over his shoulder. Surely he wasn’t being pursued by fresh attackers?
When I looked back at him inquiringly, he was staring at me. I frowned, peering down at my dress.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Is something amiss?”
He flushed and cleared his throat, looking away. “You just look different when you’re not?—”
“Covered in dirt and blood?” I grinned at him. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”
I snuck another look at my dress, remembering belatedly that I had dressed up for school, something I normally never did. But knowing the humiliation I would be walking into, I had needed the extra armor. It hadn’t been enough, though, and I had forgotten my appearance in my wanderings around the city.
I snuck another glance at Zakary, my eyes lingering on his broad shoulders and the smooth fit of his shirt and leather vest. His arms looked as whole and undamaged as my own, so his healing must have been sufficient.
He cleared his throat again. “I was hoping I would run into you. I wanted to make sure you were all right.” He nodded toward my arm. “You don’t have a bandage, so you must have gone to a healing clinic after all. Do you need?—?”
I cut him off, suddenly unable to bear him offering to cover the cost of the healing. At the beginning, I had fully intendedto insist on it, but too much had happened to upend my life since then. Now it felt, however illogically, like it would be one humiliating blow too many.
“Yes, my arm is fine, as you can see.”
“That’s good, then.” Zakary cleared his throat yet again, unaccountably awkward.
I let anger stir inside me, strong enough to wash away the humiliation. It had been this boy’s fault that I had missed the final test and provided the teacher with the excuse he needed to choose Byron over me.
“I met with Faylee the day after the attack,” Zakary continued when I said nothing.
“Of course you did.” My words brimmed with resentment. “Since you hadn’t sufficiently ruined my life already.”
Zakary fell back a step, his eyes widening. “Ruined your life? I took a risk and didn’t turn you in! I thought youwantedthe letter delivered.”
“What I wanted was to deliver the letter myself,” I snapped. “What I wanted was to stay on my teacher’s good side, to come first in the final test of the year, and to be chosen for sealing when the Shrouded Mage was caught. But then you had to get yourself attacked.” I swallowed, forcing the flow of words to stop.
Zakary’s brow creased. “What does my attack have to do with any of that? I delivered the letter and even intervened on your behalf with Faylee. Unlike me, she knows your teacher’s identity, and she wanted to confront him. But she promised not to do so when I pointed out that he would likely retaliate against you.”
Shame washed over me. I was unloading my anger on Zakary when he had been trying to protect me.
