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“How did you manage to escape these people unnoticed?”

He was a Water Quatura. A male one. That meant he could only be descended from two Quatura. His father must have been under surveillance. No one would miss a baby, especially not one gifted with an element.

“That's not something I'm going to discuss with you,” he murmured grimly, his brows drawn together.

Of course he wouldn't talk to me about his past, about his family. He hadn't even told J anything more than that he was under pressure. And now his words from back then made sense, as many Quatura, especially the few males, were under enormous pressure.

But who was his family? Was his father also a male Quatura that no one knew about? Had he gone into hiding with his family and raised his son under enormous amounts of stress?

Something didn't add up, but I couldn't ask him, even though the questions were burning on the tip of my tongue.

He sat down in front of me and looked at me intently.

“Give me your hand.”

Hesitantly, I looked down at my hand. The blood was still running. By now, a pool of blood had formed on the white laboratory floor.

“Julie.”

I looked up again, undecided.

Everything in me wanted to take his hand. And when even my sanity couldn’t stop me, I let it happen.

Quentin took my cold hand in his warm one and led it to the bowl of water, then carefully placed it inside. Once again, a slight pain shot through me, accompanied by even more dizziness. The water immediately turned reddish.

What was he up to? Did he want to clean my wound? Bandage it?

He let go of my hands, took the golden ring with the snake and the raven from his uninjured hand, and placed it next to his simple golden double ring.

Immediately, something changed in the atmosphere around us. When I realized what it was, I stared at him in disbelief.

I felt that he was a Quatura. His element had such a strong aura that mine immediately reacted to him and his notebook began to float next to me.

Quentin looked up at the book.

I quickly pushed it down.

Heat rushed to my cheeks.

“You're strong,” I managed to say. “I mean... your element.”

Someone with that strength would be of great use to the Circle. And as far as I knew, it was a male Water Quatura that was missing to complete the circle of male Quatura in New York and finish a certain ritual that Quatura had been trying to practice for millennia.

Quentin looked at me expressionlessly, then looked back at my hand and put his own hands in the water, reaching for mine.

“What good is it if I'm not trained?”

He wasn't trained? Did that mean no one had ever taken care of his element? Not his father, not his mother...

I felt the water around my hand getting warmer. Or was it my hand?

Quentin's fingertips began to shimmer in the water, and it seemed as if I could see shimmering scales on his hand, but they were so fine and barely visible under the bright, warm light that emanated from his fingers that it could just as well have been my imagination.

Stunned, I looked up at Quentin. His usually warm green eyes now glowed turquoise, almost blue.

“Water practices,” I whispered.

In Blairville, one rarely saw Water Quatura practicing, as they had almost completely withdrawn to their own secluded neighborhood on the north coast, where they performed their rituals by the saltwater, far from Moenia. They were only present for rites of passage and major ceremonies. Not to forget the fact that I had recently interrupted one of their sacred rituals by killing Sister Silv...