by Cecilia Tan
Remy let out a low whistle. “We’ll tell you about it over a cup of tea in the common room. Allan, Masterson, help him up and let’s get him back to the house.” Then, to Jess, “Will we have to treat him for a concussion?”
“Probably better safe than sorry,” she said. “Watch him for the signs and take him to health services if they come up. But he should be clear of severe damage.”
Frost got to his feet and offered her a hand up, but Kyle found himself in the way, helping her up with his hands on her shoulders. Frost glared and Kyle found himself glaring back, and he didn’t even know why. Frost had probably just saved Nichols’s life, if what he was hearing was correct.
“She’ll need to eat,” Frost said then, but his words sounded spiteful somehow.
“I know that,” Kyle said, but inside his own head he was thinking, really? Is that how it works?
“Come on. There’ll be a midnight feast at the house. If she’s with you, it’s okay.” And with that, Frost walked away, following the others moving off in the direction of Gladius House.
Kyle held Jess for a few long moments in his arms. “Do you want to? Go with them, I mean.”
“The Gladius House midnight feast is not something you should miss,” Jess said quietly. “But honestly, I really just want to order a pizza and get in bed.”
“Okay.”
She shook her head. “And I mean get in bed and sleep for a week. I’m sorry, Kyle. I’m just not up to...anything, after that.”
Kyle stroked her back. “It’s okay. But, hey, do you feel like your arms and legs are made of lead and you can hardly move?”
“Yes,” she said. “That’s exactly how I feel. But I can make it back to Camella House.”
“Okay,” he said again, helping her move in that direction, their feet going slowly but his mind racing a mile a minute. That day in poetry analysis class—had he used magic? How else could he explain the seeming miracle of the interpretation just coming to him? And the fatigue afterward? Was that what Master Brandish had been talking about; what hijinks he’d been up to? Had she assumed he’d been doing something wrong with his magic?
He wanted to ask Jess about all of it, but she was even more tired than he’d been. Well, maybe that made sense. All he’d done was analyze a poem. She’d saved someone’s life.
“So, Healing Arts, huh?” he said instead.
“Yeah,” she said, almost bashfully. “I think I really will declare it. But I’ve got a few more months before I have to commit.”
“That was really amazing.”
She chuckled. “You are really amazing, Kyle. What are you doing tomorrow afternoon? Maybe I can get Monica to go to the library for a few hours...oh, except that won’t work. They closed it for the weekend.”
“They did?”
“You didn’t read about it? The bulletin should be posted in your common room.”
“Oh, um, I guess I didn’t notice.”
“Yeah, there have been some reports of potential hauntings and they didn’t want to take a chance on Halloween weekend with the veil as thin as it is. They still aren’t sure if something’s going on, or if it’s just one of those stories that got out of control.”
They were crossing the quadrangle now toward the door of Camella House. “What story?”
“Well, the legend is there’s a siren in the stacks, and any student who makes love to her will pass exams. The legend has been around for decades, but lately there’s been more talk about it.” She yawned widely. “If you ask me, it’s just that more students are desperate to spend the night cramming and they go up there and get themselves locked in, and then when they pass their exams, they brag about how they were visited by the siren. It’s always guys who tell these stories, too. Coincidence?”
“Um, are sirens bisexual?”
“Far as I know.”
“Wow, I always thought of them as women who trapped men, but...”
“But that’s what you get for listening to mundane versions of myths,” she said playfully. “You’ll order the pizza?”
“And stay with you to make sure you eat it and don’t fall asleep with your face in it,” Kyle teased back.
He needn’t have worried. Once the pizza arrived, Jess attacked it ravenously, eating six of the eight slices herself while Kyle finished off the other two. She was deeply asleep when he left as the effects of the warming draught were wearing off and he realized he had no idea where his mask and cape had gotten to. The bell was tolling midnight as he made his way back to the stone edifice he called home.
November
The cold weather everyone had been promising arrived. Kyle made Alex take him back to the place where clothes were sold by the pound and they dug through until they found him a heavy, black wool coat—missing some buttons, but Kyle didn’t mind that much since it came to only twelve dollars when it was weighed, ten after Alex flirted with the cashier. Jess’s roommate Monica, whom Kyle finally met after months of not believing she really existed, sewed buttons on for him, and then he was no longer quite as freezing cold when slogging back and forth to class in the biting wind and rain.
Much to Kyle’s annoyance, Jess’s heroics Halloween night resulted in her receiving invitations to social things at Gladius House, things Kyle would have rather skipped and spent the time sitting in the suite at Camella 3 West with Jess and the rest of them. But he couldn’t very well let his own girlfriend attend “Tea with the Master” at his own house without him. Tea with the Master was a stiff affair, with the men all in jacket and tie, the women either the same or in dresses. Master Brandish and the tutors wore scholars robes and Kyle couldn’t help but feel like she was about to bang a gavel and send people to the gallows at any minute. The talk was dull, and they had to sit through Nichols—quite recovered from his Halloween mishap—playing a piece on the cello. The only part that was interesting was when Dean Bell appeared, also in his formal robes, toward the end.
He seemed oblivious to the glare Master Brandish gave him, making the rounds of the student tables, pausing to speak with this one or that. Kyle couldn’t help but notice him exchanging a word with Frost. He nudged Jess. “Which one of them do you think is paler?”
She turned from the conversation she had been conducting with Nichols, who had sat on the other side of her after his recital. “Who?”
But Bell had moved on. Kyle noticed Frost fell silent the moment the man moved away. He looked a bit lost without Michael there, which was funny since neither of them ever said very much, other than short remarks to each other. Frost’s place in the house was not about to slip because he was getting anti-social, though, not after rescuing a housemate.
Kyle decided to try to get Jess’s attention again. “So does Madel—er, Master Finch ever do anything like this?”
“Oh, sometimes. She held a barbecue at her house last spring. She lives off campus by a few blocks. And she’ll probably have a Christmas party.” Jess declined the tea from the server who appeared. “I bet if she does, you’ll definitely be invi—”
They both turned toward the head table as a loud bang echoed through the wood-paneled room. It seemed Master Brandish had gotten to her feet so quickly that she had knocked over her chair.
She and Dean Bell were glaring daggers at each other, then Bell bowed stiffly, turned on his heel, and swept from the room.
Master Brandish turned to right her chair, the sounds of her robe swishing loud in the silence, as no one dared speak. She formed her face into a smile and addressed the group. “Thank you all for joining me. We’ll have Christmas tea in a few weeks before you leave for break, as well.” Her voice was sickly sweet. Kyle had never heard her like that. “As exams come up, please remember, your tutors’ doors are always open, as is mine.”
Then she left the room before the impolite murmuring could start.
Kyle took that as his and Jess’s cue to escape, too, though he gathered from what snippets he overheard that Bell and Brandish had once been something of an
item before he had been made assistant dean. And that no one thought it was all that wise to date someone who specialized in Esoteric Studies, unless you did as well.
Kyle for his part at least now no longer confused Esoteric Studies with Ritual Arts. Somehow in his first week at Veritas he’d gotten them mixed up and it had taken a while of Jess correcting him to get it straightened out in his head. Ritual Arts was all kinds of rituals and power-calling. Esoteric Studies did have a lot of ritual aspects but was pretty much all about sex. She’d finally gotten him to realize “esoteric” was a euphemism—almost a Spoonerism—for “erotic.”
“Can I walk you home?” he asked Jess as they crossed the common room.
She kissed him on the cheek. “That’s not necessary, Kyle. Besides, you’d need to go get your coat...”
“Okay.” He kissed her back, lingering just a little longer than necessary before pulling back.
She nodded to him, then pulled on her mittens and disappeared through the vestibule door.
He knew by now that when they had conversations like that, they were each saying more than they really said. A rough translation of that for someone else would have gone something like this:
Hey, it’s not that late, can I come back with you to your dorm and maybe have not-sex with you if your roomie’s not there?
No, not tonight, honey.
Well, all right, but I really wish I could.
I know.
It was just as well. Kyle had a major exam in Soothsaying Methods coming up, and he still hadn’t memorized all the Tarot cards and their meanings. It was worse than memorizing the periodic table of elements in chemistry class, he thought. But he had to do it.
Maybe he needed help. Someone else to quiz him on the cards, then separate out the ones he got right from the ones he got wrong. He sat down by the fireplace and text-messaged Alex, asking if he could help.
He was surprised by what came back. No can do, Ace. Up to my eyebrows in this term project myself. Tomorrow, maybe?
So Alex Kimble didstudy sometimes. That, or he was already engaged in some elaborate goofing off? Kyle stared at the words. Something about them felt like a brush-off. But not like an outright lie.
He went and got his cards anyway, and the accompanying textbook, and returned to the common room looking for someone he could stand. Caitlyn, maybe? Although she mostly acted like freshmen didn’t exist in her universe, she might react well to a plea for help.
She was sitting by the window, a book in her hand, but staring at the windowpanes being peppered by more rain. Kyle approached her too cautiously, such that she didn’t notice him there at all until he said her name.
“Speyer.”
She jumped. “What in Mother Shipton’s stinky knickers prompted you to sneak up on me that way?”
“Um, er, I was hoping you might help me with my Tarot studies...” He trailed off as her eyes narrowed.
“Why me?”
Because on Halloween you seemed pretty, and funny, and likable, and even though I was pretty sure you’d treat me like dirt now, I had to try and see if I could be one of the people you’d laugh and joke and fly races with. Or not.
No, he couldn’t say that. A lifetime of experience had taught him that people didn’t really say what they were thinking, and they got in trouble when they did.
But she was staring at him like if he didn’t answer, she was going to casually rip his arm off his body and bludgeon him with it. Or just get up and walk away. Here goes nothing.
“Because when we met on Halloween,” he said, changing it ever so slightly, “you seemed so likable, and even though I was pretty sure you’d treat me like dirt now, I wanted to see if maybe...”
She laughed. “If maybe I’m not the queen bitch everyone makes me out to be?” Her grin was feral. “It’s sweet of you to give me the benefit of the doubt, Wadsworth. Hmm. What kind of help do you need?”
Now, though, people were watching them talk, and he wondered if he could even bring himself to say it aloud in front of everyone. “I’m...memorizing all the cards. I want someone to quiz me on them.” There, that wasn’t quite like saying, I’m an idiot and can’t seem to memorize them at all.
“All right, sit down. Nichols!” She called to her classmate, who was crossing the room carrying his cello case. “Come over here.”
He obeyed and sat in another chair.
“We’re going to help Wadsworth here with his Tarot homework,” she said. “You’re in Soothsaying, right?”
“Um, yeah. Runes mostly, but yeah.” Nichols had shoulder-length brown hair, curled slightly at the ends, and he had a habit of looking down when he talked, his hair swinging down like a curtain and hiding half his face.
“Good.”
Kyle looked back and forth between the two of them, a little confused. Did Caitlyn Speyer not know the cards that well, either?
“Draw,” she said to Kyle.
He took the cards out of the box and just turned the stack over, then held back a laugh as he saw what card sat there. The Ace of Swords. “Okay, the hero, starting a quest or journey.” He set it aside when they both gave him approving nods.
Next card under that was the Three of Coins. “Hard work,” Kyle said. “Beginning to see the fruits of labor.”
He moved it aside and the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. “Three of...Cups.” He swallowed.
“What’s wrong?” Caitlyn said with a small frown. “Usually people are happy to see that card.”
“I know. It means good luck. Everything’s going to work out. It’s just...” A coincidence? “I drew these same three cards in this order, once before.”
“Well, it was a good reading then, and it’s a good reading now, I’d think,” she said, “unless the next card you pull has an ominous turn to it?”
Kyle moved aside the Three of Cups and blinked. There were the Lovers. The goosebumps spread across his shoulders. “Wow. Um, well, the meaning on this one is obvious.”
Caitlyn patted Nichols on the knee and chuckled. “Are you sure this wasn’t all an elaborate set-up to make a move on me, Wadsworth?”
Kyle felt his cheeks go pink. “I already have a girlfriend.”
“Ah, right. Torralva. She was here earlier, wasn’t she?”
Kyle nodded. Nichols was hiding his face and wasn’t even saying anything this time.
“Well, your card reading skills seem to be fine so far,” she said, one eyebrow raised skeptically.
Kyle went on through five more cards, naming each one easily, then finally struggling a bit on the Three of Wands. “The wands are tricky,” she said, “just like the Scips.” She laughed at her own joke on Scipionis House. “They’re long and phallic like the swords, but they are deeply magical like the chalices. They’re as changeable and movable as fire, so the interpretations can get tricky, too. Although one might say that of any card, given that the context within a reading changes...”
“Don’t go over his head, Cait,” Nichols warned. “He’s just trying to get the single card interpretations down.”
“Bah, that’s no fun,” she said, but relented. “Keep going, Wadsworth. But you owe me a favor.”
They went all the way through the deck that way, with Kyle ultimately having to give in and ask for help on more than twenty cards.
“I still say the best way to learn them is not just to go through them over and over, but to give readings,” Caitlyn said. “Here, give me the cards. Let me do one for you, Nichols.”
Nichols looked up in surprise. “Okay.”
She shuffled the cards, then let Nichols cut them. Kyle watched in fascination as she turned up the cards one by one. “Here you are. Hmm, dear me, Nichols, this seems to say you need to be studying a bit harder. Are your grades slipping? No? Something’s eroding though in your present. Let’s see your future...oooh, you know what this means. You’re going to meet your true love! Let’s see if the cards will give us a clue when! What’s this? A four! Hmm, is that four months or fo
ur years, you think?”
And on she went. Kyle was dizzied by how she was able to turn every new card that came up into part of this story she wove around Nichols, each one seeming to corroborate the previous.
She collected them up and handed them back to Kyle. “A lot of interpretation isn’t about reading the cards,” she said. “It’s about reading the person. I get that you have to memorize the basics for your class, but...it’s like you’re learning to read the alphabet, but you already know how to speak.”
She stood up and stretched. “I’ll see you two later.” She strode away without looking back.
Kyle looked at Nichols. “Are you and she...?”
Nichols shrugged. “Friends with benefits, maybe. I dunno. She’s...got her own ideas.”
Kyle had a feeling maybe he knew how Nichols felt. “No one really has a lot of time for a relationship here, do they?” he asked, feeling around the issue and wondering if he would be validated.
“Not really,” Nichols allowed. “She’d expect to be courted if...”
Kyle could almost hear the unspoken, if it meant anything to her.
Kyle wanted to ask if they had sex-sex or only the technical virginity-saving kind. He’d thought for a while that Jess was a rarity, but he was gradually finding out there were others, male and female, who were saving their virginity for magical—not moral—reasons. And maybe that was why there seemed to be a lot of couples who were only a step above friends? Or maybe it was like that in the non-magical world, too, and Kyle just didn’t know. Maybe too many of my expectations have been shaped by bad television.
They each drifted off into their own thoughts for a while. When Kyle spoke again, he asked, “When’s carnival?”
“You mean Carnavale?” Nichols asked in return. “Always the last Tuesday before Lent. Mardi Gras. Same thing.”
“Oh, so like, February.” Kyle pondered. It would probably be near Valentine’s Day, too. He gathered up his things. “Thanks for your help.”
“No problem,” Nichols said softly, his head tipping toward his lap as he did.