Just keep walking. Don’t give them what they want.
‘Murderer!’
Just. Keep. Walking.
The insults get louder until eventually, I hear so many I can barely decipher them, and finally Headmaster Zain silences everyone with a shout.
‘That’s enough!’ His deep voice bellows across the room. ‘This is a sacred ceremony. I will not tolerate this behaviour in my hall. If you have an issue with Miss Nocthare, you may take it up with her when we are done. If you cannot control your own tongue, come forth and I will cut it out for you.’
Silence.
No one utters a sound, not even a peep, as I stand at the edge of the steps.
The offer of bodily harm does wonders. I’ll have to remember that. Though I don’t miss the way Zain has also granted them permission to spew their insults at meoutsideof the ceremony. Lucky me, I have something to look forward to.
My skin prickles as I meet Bartollo Zain in the centre of the room, beneath the silver stream of moonlight. Now that I’m closer, I’m able to make out more defining features of the man. His eyes have an unusual glint in the middle of them – right where his pupil should be is a pale, whitish-blue circle instead. As if … as if the headmaster is blind.
No. Surely not.
I recall the way he walked across the stage. He moved along it with ease and gestured to each archway just like any fully sighted person would do. Unless … unless he has performed this ceremony so many times that he knew where each step, each edge of the dais and archway began and ended.
I look down at my hand, stretched out before me. ‘I cannot yet wield my element; therefore, I wish to use my blood.’
My eyes flutter, ready to squeeze shut as I wait for the sharp edge of the blade to meet my skin, hard and fast like I’d seen on the others before me. But Headmaster Zain’s hand grabs my wrist tightly, making me gasp.
‘Donotclose your eyes,’ he commands in a low tone. ‘You will face worse than this once you get behind those doors, Miss Nocthare.Thiswill seem like nothing.’ I hear the warning loud and clear.
Before I get a chance to respond, a sharp pain slices across my palm. I hiss through my teeth and yank my hand back.Fuck. Warm crimson blood pools out of the open wound. My vision blurs for a second as I breathe through the white-hot sting. When I’m certain I’m not about to pass out, I force my feet to move in the direction of Malachite.
The blood spills over my palm, trickling down between my fingers. I feel the itchy sensation of eyes lingering on my back as I inch toward my brother’s unit, praying that this works.
I need Malachite. I only hope it needs me too.
Sebastian stands guard like a sentry carved from stone. Broad shoulders, wide stance. Immovable. The Grand Hall is vast; the ceiling stretches high, but it’s all six-foot-three ofhimthat makes me feel smaller the closer I get. My stomach twists, because as our eyes meet, I see no warmth in his gaze. No trace of the same relief at seeing each other again that I feel whirling inside of me. Instead, his blazing green eyes are hard, narrowed, as if my mere presence offends him.
I don’t understand it. He’s never looked at me this way before.
When I finally reach him, though, I know I should just keep walking and place my hand on the stone like the others did. But I can’t stop myself from speaking to him. It’s been so long.
‘Seb—’ I whisper, hoping our voices don’t carry. But he cuts me off before I even manage to finish his name.
‘Keep walking, acolyte,’ he snarls, looking down at me with disgust. ‘You don’t get to speak to me.’
I reel back as if I’ve been struck. My mouth opens, then closes. Words scramble on my tongue and fight my lips to get out.
Acolyte?
So impersonal. So indifferent.
‘What are—’
‘Did you not fucking hear me? I saidkeep walking.’ He shifts to the side, moving to the edge of the alcove to the gate. Further away from me. His eyes leave mine and glower over my head. I know a dismissal when I see one, yet I never thought I’d get one so blatantly cruel from him.
I stand, stunned, as disbelief and rejection course through my veins, working their way toward my heart, which gives a deep, achy squeeze. I’m desperate to find a glimmer of the man I thought I knew, but it’s as if I’m looking at a stranger. This … this isn’t the Sebastian I know. I have a horrible feeling that this has to do with what happened to Lukas. Moreover, the crimes that have been pinned on my brother. Sebastian was his best friend … I never even thought for a moment that he would condemn Lukas like the academy did. That Sebastian would turn his back on Lukas and believe the lies. But what if he has?
My heart sinks at this realisation, because this doesn’t just mean he’s betrayed my brother. It also means he’s betrayed me, and I can no longer trust him. My jaw clenches with the effort of not letting my eyes fill with tears. I swallow the burning sensation climbing its way up my throat and force my feet to move.
I pass by him, placing my hand to the stone, trying not to think about the dried blood next to it from previous students.
