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A Society of Traitors

Page 398

by Maezos

“Why did you run away?” I looked up. Quentin was staring at me. “Last time.”

The control I had just gained over my emotions evaporated and was replaced by chaotic, emotional memories of my sudden escape from the lab.

“Oh,” I stammered. “I...” I looked away to concentrate better. “The hormones...” I pointed to my belly. “And...”

I faltered, unable to find the words.

God, what’s wrong with you, Julie?

“I see...” Quentin said, and I looked up.

Overwhelmed by his intense gaze, I lowered my eyes to my hands, whose fingertips had turned dark blue. Slightly bluish veins pulsed and glowed unevenly beneath my skin.

“Julie,” Quentin began, and when I looked up again, his gaze was also on my hands. “One question.” He raised his eyes. “How long have you had access to these powers?”

I tried to think, but I couldn't until I turned away from him, my heart pounding, and walked over to the fountain to stop Buddy from cornering a raven.

“Only for a few months.”

I should leave, but my heart beat treacherously faster at the mere thought of being alone and not near him.

“Was there a trigger?”

My hands began to tremble.

“Don’t move!” the words echoed in the deepest depths of my subconscious.

I squeezed my eyes shut, pushing the image from my mind’s eye.

“Stress…” I replied quickly.

Quentin appeared next to me at the fountain.

“Interesting,” he continued. “I had assumed that your ice powers had developed in parallel with your Quatura element.”

Fortunately, that wasn't the case. The consequences would have been disastrous.

“I first had access to air powers when I was six.”

I felt Quentin watching me, as if he were observing my every move. And with every second that passed, the urge to look up at him, to meet his eyes, grew stronger. But I was afraid of the consequences. That he would notice something, that I would say something wrong. Or that I would remain silent and do something rash.

“And this despite the fact that Quatura powers only manifest between the ages of fourteen and sixteen... At least for female Quatura.”

It didn't sound judgmental. It sounded curious.

“Didn't anyone notice?”

One of the ravens hopped down from the statue’s shoulder in the middle of the fountain and pranced along the stone arm toward me.

“I kept it to myself and waited until I was fifteen.”

Absentmindedly, I reached out my hand to the raven. It halted and tilted its head, examining my fingers.

“Smart.”

I looked up at Quentin, but he immediately turned his head toward the fountain and shoved his hands into his coat pockets.

Had he just complimented me?