Page 28 of Winterveil

Even the clerk at the armory window gave them a wide-eyed look, but he didn’t comment. He just passed them the pistol. It was one of the new Luster models, which Dr. Iver had repeatedly encouraged her to use. Auric must have promised him a significant endowment, maybe donated a building.

The range was empty. Nadiya led Giselle to her favorite lane and then held out the gun.

Giselle grimaced. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Have you really never used one before?”

“No. I don’t like guns. My mother’s old boyfriend had one. He would pull it out whenever . . .” Giselle glanced away. “But no, I’ve never used one. Tragically, I missed out on all the squirrel hunting and skeet shooting.”

Nadiya wondered if Giselle had overheard her conversation with Matteo. Her voice had grown uncertain, and her gaze was distant.

“You don’t have to do this,” said Nadiya, “if you don’t want to.”

“I do.” Giselle lifted her chin and met Nadiya’s eyes. “I do want to. Just . . . just don’t laugh when I embarrass myself.”

Nadiya pressed her lips together. Giselle took the pistol from her gingerly, and turned it over, testing its heft. It did look unnatural in her hands. Giselle’s fingers were small and delicate, and her nails were still painted with chipping pink polish.

Giselle looked up—noticing Nadiya noticing. “When was the first time you used one?”

“I was nine.”

Giselle watched her expectantly, as if hoping for elaboration. But Nadiya said nothing. She felt a familiar curtain draw shut inside her, that steel-ribbed veil that held every secret within—and kept everything else out.

She walked over to the lane and took out two pairs of earmuffs from under the window. “Here,” she said. “Put these on.”

Giselle joined her. She brushed back her red-gold hair, which always appeared to be slightly wild, and slipped the earmuffs on. A strand of hair got caught inside the earmuffs, and before Nadiya could even think, she found herself reaching up and brushing it back.

It barely qualified as a touch—her fingers had grazed Giselle’s skin for only a fraction of a second—but Nadiya’s heart thumped. She immediately withdrew her hand.

“Thanks,” Giselle said quietly.

Nadiya nodded and slipped on her own earmuffs. There was a residual prickling in her fingertips.

She guided Giselle into place. Since they couldn’t hear each other with the earmuffs on, Nadiya had to arrange Giselle’s limbs and adjust her posture in silence. She pressed one hand between Giselle’s shoulder blades, fingers threading the silky-soft strands of her hair. She used her other hand to lift Giselle’s arms into a rigid, outstretched position.

Her feet were still not quite planted. Nadiya couldn’t figure out another way to correct her pose except to stand flush against her, aligning her body to Giselle’s. They were near enough that Nadiya could feel Giselle’s muscles tense briefly, and then relax. She could feel the fluttering of her pulse.

Giselle’s hands trembled as she found the trigger. Another moment passed, a moment in which Nadiya’s pulse also began to race. And then the shot rang out, audible even through the earmuffs, leaving a bullet mark just to the left of the target.

Immediately, Giselle’s shoulders slumped and she dropped her arm. She stepped away as Nadiya lifted her earmuffs and tried to find the words to tell her it wasn’t a bad shot, especially for her first time. But her throat was too tight. Giselle stood at a distance again and Nadiya felt as if she had lost something, but she didn’t quite know what.

That evening she ate with Dr. Iver at the headmaster’s residence, as she did every night. Nadiya felt oddly restless. She ate uninterestedly, staring out the window as dusk overtook Valeran. The clouds were scattered gray and thin and the sun glimmered dark gold, slowly vanishing behind the dome of the amphitheater.

Dr. Iver set down his glass. “You seem ill at ease.”

“I’m not. Sorry.” She looked back at him, and then the words came out in a rush: “Why did you bring her here? Giselle.”

Dr. Iver leaned back in his seat, and now it was his turn to glance out the window. He stared for what felt like a long time at the sun, so vivid in its final hours. “You find her charming.”

His tone was light. Nadiya felt a flush rise to her cheeks.

“No,” she stumbled. “That’s not to say she isn’t—I just want to know what she has that no one else does.”

Dr. Iver turned back to her. “I understand,” he said. “You have a right to be curious, especially given that I asked you to befriend her. I imagine the entire school is equally bewildered. She’s not quite our typical student, is she?”

Nadiya nodded uncertainly.

“So why don’t you join her at her session with Professor Blanchard tomorrow? You’ll see the use we have for her singular talent.”