The next morning, the basin in my room woke me before the breakfast bell with the sound of water falling.
A drop hit the floor.
Then another.
And another.
I opened my eyes.
The small basin in the corner was full.
It hadn’t been full when I went to sleep.
The water stood perfectly still, black in the dark room, and on its surface were five words written in pale light.
Juno’s chamber. First session.
Then the bell rang.
Thewords broke.
The water went ordinary.
I sat up.
“No way,” I said, mostly to the idea that the basin could apparently convey messages now.
The room did not reply. Neither did the basin, though I was beginning to suspect that was a choice.
I dressed and considered washing my face, my the idea that the basin might be sentient dissuaded me for the time being.
Then I went to Juno’s office.
The upper east floor was too bright for so early in the morning. Small carved marks I hadn’t noticed the first day sat above the sconces. I didn’t know how to read them, but I knew money when it had been made decorative.
Before my knuckles reached it, the door to Juno’s chamber opened. Entirely of its own accord. Almost as unnerving as the basin.
Juno herself was across the room at her own basin already, palms not on the rim but at her sides. Long fingers. No rings. Raw nails.
“Verita,” she greeted.
“Astra,” I insisted, again.
Juno appeared not to register the correction. Again.
“Sit,” she said.
I sat in the same too-small wooden chair as yesterday. She remained standing at the basin. A leather-bound book lay open on the small table beside her, and she wasn’t looking at it but hadn’t closed it either. The book looked older than the chair. Older than the table. Possibly older than the academy.
“This is your first weekly session,” she said. “You and I will see each other at this hour every Thursday for as long as I remain your Oracle.”
“Which is as long as I remain here, right?”
Juno’s gaze lifted to mine, and I already knew she was going to skirt the question before she did it.
“Caswell’s protocol would call you in more often. I have not asked him to override mine.”
“Why not?”
