It’s only once I’m past the tree line that I start to feel the cold, as wind from the ocean sweeps up the cliff and over toward us. With it comes the smell of salt water. I inhale deeply, loving the crisp scent that fills my lungs.
‘Malachite’s over there.’ Lillian points out a cluster of students standing together in a mixture of grey and dark green robes. I stop to pull my own robe on over my dress. I notice the separate sections everyone has gradually moved into or are making their way toward. They’re congregating into three different areas for the three units. There are also three podiums made of wood that I assume are for each unit leader and their faculty leader.
We make our way over to Malachite’s dedicated spot and, minutes later, everyone stops speaking and turns to face the tree line. A heavy silence blankets the cliff. As much as I tell myself not to get too invested in this ceremony, seeing as I’ll be absent for most of it, my neck still cranes as I stand on my toes to watch what’s about to unfold. I’ve never celebrated the Imber Stellarum, though I’m not sure why. Based on what Tilly told me, most households celebrate every year. It makes me wonder why my parents never taught Lukas and me. Wouldn’t they want to pay homage to Opalus, their Star?
A figure in a white robe steps out from the tree line. I recognise him as Opal’s unit leader. He walks with fluid grace toward the podium in front of the Opal students. Following behind him is a grey-haired woman, also dressed in a white robe. Her pointed chin is held high as she walks with grace toward her podium.
When a third figure emerges from the tree line, dressed in a deep green robe, my stomach flutters. Sebastian. He’s several inches taller than Opal’s unit leader, not to mention broader. Making him that muchbetter to look at as his long legs carry him across to our podium. The students of Malachite roar loudly as he passes, clearly paying no mind to the silent rule as they clap and chant for their unit leader.
Their cheers fill me with pride as I watch him ascend the podium and turn to face us. Somehow, his eyes find mine within seconds and the hardened look in his eyes softens just a little, making my cheeks heat.
The yelling only gets louder when Nicks arrives, sans robe and dressed in his usual combat gear. Black jacket, pants and laced -up boots. It makes me laugh, because itwouldbe this bloody unit that tosses aside the rules, given the faculty leader can’t be bothered sticking to the dress code.
He joins Sebastian on the podium, clasping him on the shoulder before giving us his attention. There’s mirth in his eyes, but he still gives us a look that tells us to quieten down. Everyone does, obeying his silent command.
The air crackles around us as the unit leader for Agate arrives with her head held high, as if she’s the headmaster herself. The way she scans her eyes over the crowd as if she’s looking through everyone, not at them, has my nose scrunching. She was never found guilty of Harley’s death; according to Nicks, there was no magic signature on Harley at all, which meant he was killed by brute force. And Helena wouldn’t have had the strength to do it.
No one turns their head to watch her ascend the podium – her entrance is outshined by the quiet gravity that descends as Bartollo Zain unfolds from the darkness of the trees. He steps into the open space with measured precision. There is a cane in his left hand, helping him navigate the uneven terrain, and it taps against the earth with each step. The entire length of the cane is a swirl of browns, reds and greys. It’s made of agate, I realise. The floor length robe he wears is a deep brown, with a golden brooch at his throat holding the two sides together. It billows around him, blown by a phantom wind. With each step, the air thickens, and everyone seems to go still in the presence of his magnitude.
Bartollo emanates power, strength and something almost otherworldly as he passes. He is the backbone of Valmora Academy; it only takes one look at the sea of faces around me to recognise how respected he is. It makes me wonder what he’s done in order to receive this amount of reverence. Maybe even fear.
‘It has been almost eight centuries since our Stars fell from the sky and joined this world. Offering us their gifts, their magic, their secrets.’ His voice booms across the crowd, unnaturally, as if he’s using his element to extend his voice on the air for us all to hear. ‘Valmora Academy was established five centuries ago. It is my honour to stand here among you all and lead my nineteenth Imber Stellarum celebration. We are here today to thank the Stars for choosing Valmora as their home. To thank them for their generosity, for if they did not sacrifice their ethereal bodies and place their feet on our soil, we would not be here today. The magic that runs through your blood would not exist, and neither would our academy.’
Clapping ensues, a cheer breaks out among the crowd, from students and faculty alike until Bartollo hands his cane to Agate’s unit leader. He closes his eerie pale eyes and raises his hands in the air, then starts to whisper, so faintly it’s impossible to distinguish. But slowly, his voice gets louder, until he is chanting in a language I’ve never heard before. It sounds ancient, but it rolls off his tongue with ease as if he’s spoken these words hundreds of times.
The wind picks up as he becomes more animated, gesturing to the sky, the ground, the ocean behind him. My skin pebbles, the hair on the back of my neck rises, my heart starts to race. The atmosphere is electric, almost dizzying as Bartollo’s arms begin to move in front of him, cutting through the air then moving fluidly like water. His robe starts to whip and lash behind him, as if it’s trying to break free and flutter off into the wind.
He’s wielding, I realise, as the wind starts to sing through the night sky. Until just as suddenly, it stops. Bartollo’s eyes snap open, and something about his expression looks wild. Primal even.
‘The Imber Stellarum has begun,’ he announces. ‘The Stars are ready to accept our offerings.’ Bartollo gestures to his left at the Opal podium. ‘Opalus was the first to fall. She is waiting for your offer.’
Both unit leader and faculty leader face the crowd before them, their white robes reflecting the moonlight like glowing beacons.
‘In the prism of the broken, Opal weaves the light,’ they chant loud and proudly together. Their unit chants it back. Shivers roll up my spine. I’ve never felt this type of energy before. It’s all-consuming, so much so, that as they turn to face the ocean with their arms outstretched, I swear I hear it begin to roar, and I briefly forget that this is the moment I am supposed to slip away.
FIFTY-ONE
Surprisingly, I didn’t trip or stumble as I weaved my way back through the trees toward the academy. Especially considering how fast I was moving to meet Tilly and Xavier after getting distracted by the sheer amount of power I could feel rumbling around me. Opal’s leaders were raising the bloody ocean, stirring the waves, moving the tide with the sway of their bodies as if they were part of the ocean itself.
It wasn’t until sea salt sprayed through the air, flecks landing on my nose and cheeks and startling me with freezing tiny bites, that I remembered what the hell I was meant to be doing. I gave Lillian my excuses and took off.
The lights ahead of me illuminate the rest of my journey back to the Grand Hall. It’s eerie walking back here alone, knowing the colossal building is barren from all its students … well, all but a few of them, as I open the doors and step inside.
Tilly and Xavier are both standing inside the little cove to Agate’s door, and their heads pop around the corner at the sound of my footsteps echoing throughout the empty room.
‘Bloody hell, I was starting to think you weren’t coming!’ Tilly heaves a relieved sigh.
‘Sorry,’ I reply, pushing my hood off my head. ‘I got here as fast as I could.’
‘It’s fine, we’ve only been here a few minutes.’ Xavier waves me over. ‘But let’s hurry up and get inside.’
I pick up my pace and join them at the door. Xavier’s hand shakes as he holds it up to the stone. His fingers are practically trembling as he closes his eyes and focuses on bringing out his element.
My eyes meet Tilly’s from his other side, and she shoots me a small smile before facing ahead, waiting for Xav to let us in. I know he’s been having trouble in his one-on-one sessions with the headmaster, only having produced a sliver of the power he’d been able to let out with the blue lace agate. It takes a moment, but soon enough I feel, more than see, the air that flows from him, as if he’s calling it from around his person, not from within. It only takes a few seconds longer before he juts his chin out, gesturing for us to go ahead of him.
We don’t waste time, pushing ourselves through the gate and emerging on the other side. Xavier follows a breath later. He wipes away the light sheen of sweat on his brow with his palm, then gets straight into it. He pulls out a piece of paper from a pocket of his robe and unfolds it.
‘These are your directions,’ he says. ‘You will need to follow themexactlyor you will get lost. There are several tunnels that split off down there.’
