“You okay?” Ari asks her.
“Fine,” she says. “Sand gives me a headache, is all. How do you feel?”
He stares at the signed portraits lining the walls and notes his own exhaustion, the anxiety that had been fluttering in his chest all night. “A little tired,” he admits.
She nods. “It’s normal. Sand enhances both your strengths and your weaknesses. I get ocular migraines.” She puts her glasses back on. “And you, I’m guessing, have to deal with your shyness.”
He smiles a little at her. “Was I that obvious?”
She smiles back. “Not at all. I doubt anyone noticed it behind your sparkling wit tonight. Your soul is the type that strengthens with attention. It’s why you’ve attracted it all your life. You’ll just feel exhausted after dealing with it.”
“I’m not sure I’m cut out for this.”
She leans over to tap his hand. “You realize that you’re Rudra’s prized student, right?”
Ari laughs a little. “Now you’re messing with me. Dominique’s the philosopher.”
“Yes, Dominique’s our sand-making gem. But philosophers die too young, their souls too ravaged by alchemy. They’re barred from performing much transmutation outside of creating sand.”
The reminder of philosophers’ fates sobers Ari, makes him hurt for Dominique. “She’ll make a bigger difference than I ever will,” he says, “even with fewer years to live.”
“Oh, come on, Ari, think about it. Rudra brought you over from halfway around the world. He wasn’t even scouting for a new apprentice when he saw you in Surat.”
“Well.” Ari gives her a mock scowl. “He could have told me that. I might have spoken up more in class.”
Isla laughs. “That would have ruined it. Maybe you wouldn’t have triedhard enough, had you known. Maybe you wouldn’t have stayed until midnight at the library every day for years on end, studying your little heart out.”
“He thought I was worthless.”
“Did you think so?”
Ari sobers a little. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
Isla shakes her head. “Wounded hearts with something to prove are always the ones who change the world.”
“I thought I was the remedial kid.”
“You are the most promising alchemist Lumines has seen in decades. Don’t you understand? Bioalchemists can influence decisions made at the highest levels. They can put a hand on someone’s back and suddenly make them feel good about themselves. They can touch someone’s forehead and flood their body with specific hormones, make them feel sleepy or alert, happy or sad. They can manipulate emotions, coax someone into changing their mind, can plant an idea in someone’s head. They can move entire nations.”
“Bioalchemy.” Ari looks at her. “Is that my chosen specialty?”
She smiles. “You still don’t grasp why you caught Rudra’s eye. You’re going to attend hundreds of parties, banquets, galas full of important people. Business leaders, politicians, people who make the rules. You’re going to be able to navigate any social setting. They say bioalchemists are masters of human desire. And to pair that with your charisma?” She nods. “You’re going to become the most desirable person in the world.”
He swallows hard. “Didn’t realize bioalchemists were so good with people.”
Her smile turns sly. “Of course,” she says in a low voice, “you know what else they say bioalchemists are good at.”
“What?”
She leans over to murmur in his ear. “They’re fucking amazing in bed.”
Heat creeps up Ari’s neck. “I don’t know anything about that,” he says.
“Oh, you will.” She sips her beer delicately. “You just need someone to teach you.”
Back at Isla’s apartment, they leave the lights off. Outside the windows, the city is awash in a haze of twinkling lights. Isla kisses him the moment shecloses her door, slowly at first, then harshly. He tastes the alcohol on her tongue and kisses her back, presses her against the wall until he can feel himself hardening against her. Her hands tug his shirt collar loose, undo his buttons. Where her fingers glide across his bare chest, he feels trails of tingling heat and ice, her faint transmutations raising the hairs on his body. He unzips her dress so that it collapses in a pool of silk around her feet, then unhooks her bra and slides it off her shoulders. In the darkness, her pale hair gleams blue. She guides one of his hands down between her legs, and when he slides a finger inside her, he realizes she is already slick. His breaths come shallow and hot, and in this blur of night and delirium, he hallucinates. Long, dark hair brushing against his cheek. Wide dark eyes, a smattering of freckles. Sam’s voice, gasping in his ear. Sam’s legs, parting as he strokes her.
He doesn’t know what he’s doing, but she does, so she tugs on his belt, guiding him to sit on her couch, where she undoes his pants and slides them off. Then she is kneeling before him and taking him into her mouth, and Ari can only part his lips and tilt his head up, his world turning fuzzy.
