I pursed my lips and looked down.
I had been too preoccupied to notice that the Mark had changed again since I’d trained with Hale in the salle. A line pulled tighter at the edge. A narrower space between the lines. Nothing I would have trusted myself to name.
But the negative around it was different too.
Not brighter.
Louder, was the only way I could describe it.
“Read it,” Juno said.
“I am.”
“You are looking at it. Read it.”
I breathed once through my nose because irritation at her had become less useful than fear. Then I softened my focus the way she had taught me, looking at the air around the Mark instead of the Mark itself.
The pale outline thinned.
Then opened.
Three spaces showed under the lines.
One cold as marble.
One green as apple skin in sun.
One dark and narrow as the space under a closed door.
Hale.
I knew before Juno said anything.
“They will look for this today,” she said.
“Quill?”
“Quill. Linden. Anyone told to watch.”
“And your plan is what? Gloves?”
“Gloves invite too many questions. We’ll need to obscure it.”
“Of course. Silly me, reaching for a mundane answer when deception was available.”
Juno released my hand and pointed to the chair by the desk.
“Sit.”
“Is this another lesson?”
“It is the kind of lesson you receive when someone has moved the examination before the class.”
“I’m beginning to hate this school’s educational philosophy.”
“Sit.”
I sat this time, and Juno pulled the other chair close enough that my knees nearly touched hers. She held out her hand, palm up.
