by Marisa Mills
“Maybe I’m only good with fire,” I said. “I guess it’s a good thing I went into battle magic instead of sigils.”
“Oh, that’s quite clear,” Du Lac replied. “I think you need some extra work to help you catch up with everyone else.”
“Extra work?”
Why was he singling me out like this? What had I done? It wasn’t my fault I couldn’t make the gemstone change colors, and when I looked around at other tables, I saw potions in all varying shades of color. But Du Lac hadn’t made them do extra work.
“I want you to write a three-page essay about hegemonic discourse in sigil studies,” Du Lac said.
“But I don’t know anything about sigils,” I replied.
I didn’t even know what hegemonic discourse was supposed to be. It honestly sounded like Du Lac was just making words up.
“That’s kind of the point,” Du Lac said, smiling. A few other students laughed.
Maybe this could work in my favor. If I had to write a paper, I would need to go to the library. Could I persuade someone to take pity on me and unlock the third floor? That would be my back-up plan if I couldn’t get the door unlocked.
I clasped my hands in my lap. “I’ll get to work, then,” I said.
“You’d better,” Du Lac replied.
He walked on, leaving before even most of the class did.
“It’s a pity you couldn’t figure it out,” Viviane said, turning around in her seat. “Especially since you’re trying so hard. Too bad there aren’t any proper mages down in Argent. Perhaps they could have helped.”
“It is too bad,” I replied, “But I also didn’t know I had magic for most of my life.”
That was a good excuse, wasn’t it?
“It shows,” Viviane said, grabbing her books.
She seemed to have bought my excuse. I resisted the urge to sigh in relief.
“So when did you discover you had magic?” Alexander asked. Viviane rolled her eyes but waited at the door. “What happened?”
I scrambled to remember my cover story. “I worked for a merchant, and one day, I stopped a potential thief. I summoned fire.”
“Without any ritual or training?” Viviane asked. “That’s rare.”
This was the second time she’d, essentially, said that my fire magic was too good to be true. But did she suspect I was a fraud, or was she just jealous because Alexander was talking to me? That was such an obnoxious thing to worry about. Alexander didn’t even like me.
“What’s with the interrogation?” I joked, trying to divert her attention. “You were just telling me how terrible I am at sigils. Now, I’m a magical prodigy?”
Viviane narrowed her eyes. I realized that maybe I’d said the wrong thing. Maybe Viviane was suspicious because I was inconsistent. Too good with fire and too bad with sigils. But I didn’t know how to fix that.
“Come on, Viv,” Alexander said. “Don’t we have dance next?”
“Right,” Viviane replied. “Of course. I want to go to the dorms and drink a potion first, anyway.”
I fumbled around and retrieved my schedule from my books. History of Reverie was next. The demon in my sword laughed.
That’s an excellent…learning lies.
“I’ll skip it, then,” I muttered, yawning. It was only the first day of school, but I didn’t see how a history lesson was going to help me find Nicholas Armenia’s journal and escape Reverie unscathed. Besides, if every class was as bad as Du Lac’s, I wouldn’t make it through the day.
I’d feign a bad headache, take a nap, and when I woke—probably in the middle of the night considering the early hour—I’d head straight to the library. It was time to check out the restricted archives.
Sixteen
IT WAS DARK AND COLD. When I breathed out, my breath frosted the air. But it wasn’t unpleasant. I looked around. There were trees, more trees than I’d ever seen in my life. In the Scraps, trees were short and scraggly. Most of them dead and broken. These, though, were something else entirely. They were massive and green. Beautiful. And they smelled strange. Sharp and young and new.
Hissing voices snaked through the branches.
“What is she?”
“Why is she here?”
“Can she hear us?”
I trembled, as I realized there were things moving between the trees. I caught glimpses of skin and limbs, wings and claws.
“You’re far from home, aren’t you?”
I recognized the voice.
I spun around, to see a boy laughing. He looked a few years older than me, and was every bit as handsome as Alexander. Maybe more so. But while Alexander was blond with blue eyes, this boy was dark-haired with eyes as dark as the night sky. His face was nice with high cheekbones and a thin, slightly upturned nose. When he approached me, he looked as if he came from the trees himself. He wore silver armor, which shined and gleamed from beneath his dark green cape.
“Lucian,” he said, extending a hand. “Welcome.”
“Where am I?” I asked.
“In a dream,” he replied.
A dream? I didn’t feel like I was dreaming. Lucian’s hand was still held out.
I thought we were going to shake hands, but when I extended mine, he grasped it and gently pressed his lips against my knuckles. I felt the warmth of his breath against my skin. Fluttering spread from my chest all the way up to my face.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“You refer to me as the demon in your talking sword,” Lucian replied.
My breath caught in my throat.
“It’s all right,” Lucian said. “I know the mages say such dreadful things about my kind.”
There was a burst of soft light, pale blue. I blinked back spots from my vision, and once they were clear, I saw that I stood on a sanded place. Waves of water roared distantly. Was this the ocean? I’d heard of such things, but I’d never actually seen it. It was mesmerizing and beautiful—beyond anything I could have imagined. For several minutes, I couldn’t look away.
“Lovely, isn’t it?”
It was, but I pulled my gaze away to study him instead. Beneath the moonlight, there was something vaguely feline about his face. He didn’t look like he came from the same world I did.
“I thought it was time we speak face to face. After all, we have a great deal in common,” he said.
Now it was my turn to laugh.
“Like what, exactly?” I asked.
“We’re both being exploited for someone else’s benefit.”
“I don’t know about that,” I said.
I shifted uncomfortably, and when I looked at my feet, I saw they were bare. I shifted my toes in the cold sand. It felt so real.
“Of course, you do. As nice as your nobleman may be to you, he’s still making you do things you don’t want to,” Lucian said.
That was true. So why did hearing Lucian say it make me so uneasy?
“It’s no big deal,” I lied. “Not everyone has the luxury to do what they want.”
“I would think after years of abuse, you’d be more receptive to any kindness,” Lucian said. “Perhaps, I’ll do you another. You need admittance into the library. I can show you how to do that. As a token of friendship. Perhaps, after I prove my value to you, we can speak again.”
“Why would you help me? And why did you fight the other demon, who attacked me?”
“I wasn’t doing anyone any good stuck in that storage closet. I yearned to be free; and now, my freedom depends on your survival. I couldn’t let him kill you. Plus, I didn’t know him. It’s not like we’re all friends.”
He crouched on the sand, and I watched as he made a symbol—like the sun and moon intertwined—with a dark red substance. I bent close to it. “Try it,” he said.
I crouched beside him, aware of the way he kept his eyes on me as I traced the symbol. “I can’t actually do these,” I said.
His finger slipped beneath my chin and brought my face
to his. “I’ll help you, of course,” he said.
My throat went dry. Anything I might have said went spiraling out of my head. Why was I so terrible around handsome men?
“Um,” I said.
Truly, I was the picture of wit.
“But isn’t brevity the soul of wit?”
My face grew hot beneath his gaze. Reflexively, my hand twitched. I had a terrible wayward thought of putting my hand on his and pressing his fingers into my cheek.
“You are…” I trailed off. “Very nice.”
“I would ask in what way you mean, but I fear that would only embarrass you.”
With a mischievous smile, he turned his attention to my sigil. “It isn’t bad,” he said. “Try again. Make sure the ends all meet.”
I copied his sigil again and again, tracing the lines and memorizing them. Finally, I managed to produce the sigil without correction.
“Where do I get the ink from?” I asked. “Will any ink do, or does it have to be a special kind?”
“Like that horrid ink you made for that professor of yours?” Lucian asked.
I nodded.
“It’s not ink,” Lucian replied. “It has to be your blood.”
I gasped. My veins ran cold and I shivered.
“Blood magic? Professor Gareth specifically said it’s outlawed in Reverie.”
“But I imagine,” Lucian said, “Stealing is also outlawed in Reverie.”
He knew far too much about me. Suddenly I was afraid he’d turn me in.
“Don’t worry,” he smiled, flashing his teeth. “Nobody else can hear me, and even if they could, nobody else would listen. There’s only you.”
Bells made me turn suddenly, and when I looked back Lucian’s world was fading away quickly, until all I could see were his gleaming teeth in the darkness.
***
I came to awareness and lay in my bed, tangled in my blankets for several seconds. That dream had been far too real. And what did it mean? I drew in a sharp, shaky breath. I looked at my rapier, resting by my bed. Were demons behind every bit of magic in Reverie?
I wondered if Lucian’s bloody sigil would even work for me. There was only one way to find out, but even then, I wasn’t sure I wanted to try. Alexander had specifically mentioned that demons could be very cunning, and that I couldn’t trust anything they said. What if this was a trick? What if that sigil did something awful?
The other girls were preparing for light’s out. I watched a red-haired girl and a couple of her friends walk by. They looked tired. When I looked to my side at Viviane, she was drinking some sort of blue concoction that shimmered. It must be one of the potions she was fond of. Jessa was in her nightgown and roughly brushing her hair.
I hadn’t had a chance to speak to her since yesterday. I smiled at her.
When Jessa saw I was awake, her brow furrowed in concern. “Wynter, how are you feeling?” she asked. “I heard you had a terrible headache.”
“I did,” I said. “I’m a little better now. How are you after…”
“I’m all right,” Jessa said. “Exhausted. But I’ll be fine. It’s not uncommon to be tired when you’ve used a lot of magical power, which I did. It’s expected, so it’s a little different from a migraine.”
Jessa was so open and concerned, I felt terrible for lying to her. I wasn’t really used to people being concerned about me. Of course, Sterling and Briar had cared about me, but with them, I’d usually lied about not being in pain. Being able to complain and receive sympathy was a strange luxury, and I felt like I was taking advantage of it. Sure, Viviane was a jerk, and Alexander was hard to figure out. But Jessa seemed nice. Friendly, even.
Friendly. Hah!
Then, there were the demons. I sighed and turned over in my bed. Viviane walked by in a daze. She really did look awful. That second demon attack must’ve really upset her. As everyone prepared for bed, I flipped through my book for sigils, looking for a basic unlocking spell. I found something for unbinding metals, but that probably wouldn’t work. Too bad I didn’t have some actual magical power.
But then, Lucian seemed to think I could make his sigil work. Maybe mages and demons used magic in different ways. Or maybe Lucian’s sigil wouldn’t do anything for me, and he was just toying with me.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Jessa said. “Pace yourself as best as you can. I know that’s easier said than done, but once the semester really takes off, a lot of people get sick.”
I nodded, but frowned. If I already couldn’t handle myself on the first day, how was I supposed to survive when things became more difficult?
Viviane threw herself onto her bed and sighed. “While you were sleeping, Uncle came by,” she said. “He said you should visit him.”
I winced. Had Dorian expected me to have finished this already? He probably thought I was taking too long.
“I’ll have to visit him, then,” I said.
Viviane grimaced but nodded.
I remained in bed until the lights went out. Then I waited for everyone to fall asleep. I was so tired, but if Dorian expected me to visit, I needed to have something for him. When I was sure that everyone was sleeping, I slipped out of bed, grabbed the rapier and my device, and made my way quietly down the stairs to the front entrance.
In the darkness, the Academy was a very different place. It was vast and imposing with moonlight that seeped through the windows, silver on shadows. I kept close to the wall, but thus far, I’d seen no one. Soon, I reached the library, locked as expected. I pulled a pin from my hair and leveled it before the lock. The tumblers clicked, but nothing gave.
“Does that blood thing work on any door or just the third floor?” I whispered.
It opens most things, Lucian replied, but these mages have all kinds of tricks I’m unfamiliar with.
I could hear him much more clearly now. Was it because I’d seen him in a dream or something else entirely? I pursed my lips together, trying to decide whether I was desperate enough to try this. What if it was a trap of some kind? I had no way of knowing, but I also knew I should exhaust every other option before trusting a demon.
Footsteps. I bolted and ducked around the corner of the library, leaning into the darkness as best as I could. My heart pounded, and my head spun as I tried to think of a good excuse to be wandering the Academy grounds when everyone else was fast asleep. I probably couldn’t get away with saying I was lost at this point; there would have to be something else.
The footsteps stopped nearby. I peeked around the corner at the cloaked figure standing at the library door. Silvery ink glowed on the lock—sigils, definitely. For several minutes, I waited, while the unknown person kept scrawling, writing and erasing over and over.
I dared creep a little closer, until I could see the outline of the person’s profile beneath his dark hood and realized who it was. Alexander.
Why was he out this late at night?
If he gets the door open, you won’t have to open it.
It was about time something worked in my favor. With a click, Alexander opened the door and slipped inside. I waited for just a second before approaching the entrance, and grabbed the door gently before it closed all the way.
But what is the little princeling doing in here this late at night? Lucian asked.
I slipped through the opening and silently closed the gilded doors of the library behind me. Alexander was headed towards the staircase in the center of the room. In the stillness, his footsteps echoed up the staircase; I wouldn’t be able to follow too closely, or he’d hear me.
I darted between shadows, weaving my way through the shelves and books. I reached a small sitting area in one corner. Alexander’s footsteps were still loud on the metal. I wondered if I would have any luck being quieter than he was. Alexander paused abruptly and leaned over the railing. I ducked into a dark corner, hoping he couldn’t see me. I held my breath, until Alexander mercifully resumed climbing the stairs.
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I sighed, and when I stood, a sudden burst of pain filled my skull. I hissed between my teeth and looked up to see what I’d hit my head on. It was a large portrait of a woman in a silver, floral frame. She was very beautiful. Her brown curls had been arranged over a dainty silver crown, lined with pearls and teardrop-shaped sapphires. Her eyes were a soft, gray-blue and set inside a soft, friendly sort of face. The woman’s smile looked like she had a secret that she was just dying to share.
She looks a bit like you, Lucian said, sounding amused.
I tilted my head and squinted a bit, but I couldn’t find whatever resemblance Lucian had seen. Besides, she couldn’t look like me. My family was from the Scraps; they’d have never made it up here. “I guess we both have blue eyes,” I said, “And dark hair.”
Well, I have heard that everyone has a twin, Lucian said. Maybe she is yours.
“I’ve never heard that,” I whispered.
And even if I did have a twin, I seriously doubted she would be a mage-lady.
I waited a few more minutes, then headed to the curved staircase and began climbing. My footsteps seemed quieter than Alexander’s, but I still jumped at every creak of the stairs. I would have to be careful; I didn’t know where Alexander had gone, just that he’d gone up. I think you should just set that princeling on fire. That would solve the problem.
“I’m not going to set him on fire, Lucian,” I murmured. “And stop making me talk to myself, I’m trying to be quiet. Besides, I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”
Are you sure? You never know until you try.
“Somehow, I don’t think that would solve my problems.”
Maybe. But it would be amusing.
I grimaced. “Sure,” I replied, “until the Council or royalty or someone executed me. It would be great.”
When I reached the second floor, I paused and waited to see if there was anything moving. There wasn’t, so I continued to the next floor. Maybe Alexander had been on the second floor where I hadn’t been able to see him. Or maybe he’d gone up to the fourth.
When I paused on the third floor, I saw the bookshelf had been pushed aside and there was a tell-tale gleam of silver around the lock.