Chapter 37
Lyra
SITTING IN HEADMISTRESS MOONHART’S OFFICE, I focus on keeping my face as friendly as possible, trying not to let on how my emotions are whirling like a tornado inside me.
“You’re asking me to discontinue your community service?” One of her icy brows arches in the corner. “You know that wasn’t the agreement, Miss Wilder. You’re to complete one year of community service and prove to me that you can control yourself and your magic.”
“I understand,” I say, keeping my tone low.
“And I’ve been working hard, and I think it’s helping.
But with finals coming up, I could really use the extra time to study, and you know, so many study groups are on Saturdays.
” I give her a small smile. “And I’m not asking to cancel the community service—I understand why it was assigned to me.
I’m just asking if we can pause until finals are over, then I can start up again next semester. ”
If I’m even still a student here . . .
I’m not sure if the headmistress knows that Cairn is thinking about leaving. If she does, she doesn’t make any indication of it to me.
But this is what I need. He’s leaving, and I need to separate myself from him. I can’t keep working alongside him every week, watching the gentleness with which he tends to the plants, wishing I could tuck myself into his arms and never have to leave.
It was temporary, I tell myself. Just like everything else in my life.
Headmistress Moonhart steeples her fingers and regards me through thoughtful narrowed eyes. I try not to let her see what I’m hiding, try not to let her hear the words I’m not saying.
“Please, Headmistress. I’m not going to mess up again. I just want to work hard, pass my finals, and start fresh next semester.” I dare a glance into her icy eyes. “I won’t let you down.”
Her gaze softens. “You’re not letting me down, Miss Wilder. This has never been about letting me down.” She sighs softly. “This is about trying to help you, trying to set you on the right path. It’s never been about punishing you.”
I give her a tight nod and stare down at my hands in my lap. Silence stretches between us, making the ticking of the clock on the mantel that much louder.
Finally, after what feels like a lifetime, she pushes to her feet, drawing my gaze up. “Very well. I’ll allow you a hiatus from your community service. Focus on your classwork, study hard, and control that fire. I want to see you back here next semester.”
This time, the smile I give her is genuine, even if it’s hiding my pain. “Thank you, Headmistress. I will.”
AFTER THAT, MY DAYS START to blend together.
I used to look forward to my weekends, to my uninterrupted time with Cairn.
Now every day is the same. Wake up early, trudge through my classes, study on the weekends, fall into bed, repeat.
The days are gray, the snow a constant reminder of the impending end of this semester.
And maybe the end of my time at the academy.
It’s a Saturday—our last weekend before finals week—and I find myself sitting near the window in our dorm room, staring out the frosty glass as snow falls lazily from the cloud-covered sky. And even though I shouldn’t be, I’m thinking about Cairn.
Typically, I’d be with him right now. But those days are done.
Still, I can’t help but wonder what he’s doing.
With the snow falling like this, he’s probably out shoveling, trying to keep the paths clear around the campus.
I remember the last time we shoveled together, the cold shoulder I gave him when he tried to reach out to me.
My own voice echoes in my mind: It’s not like we’re friends or something.
My brow furrows, eyes narrowing as I stare into the winter sky.
It was a cruel, hurtful thing to say. I saw the look in Cairn’s eyes when the subtle verbal attack found its mark.
Part of me wants to feel guilty for it, but the other part feels it was the right thing to do—for both of us.
He’s leaving, I’m here for another couple years (hopefully), and whatever we were, whatever we had, wouldn’t have lasted anyway.
The longer it went on, the more painful it would have become.
It’s better this way.
“Lyra!”
A burst of snowy air wraps around me. The ice fractals twinkle before my eyes, and I blink, sitting back from the window and jerking my gaze to my roommates, who’re all perched in the sitting room, schoolbooks open before them.
“Hello? Are you listening?” Alina asks.
“Uh, yeah.” I blink and wave her frost magic away, making it disperse into the warm air. “Sorry. Just a bit . . . distracted today.”
We’ve been studying since returning to our dorm after breakfast. Yuki and Juniper are asleep on the rug in front of the fire, snoring pleasantly; Isis is curled around Maeve’s neck; and my mind is anywhere but on semiotics.
Alina takes a deep breath, then sighs, her shoulders rising and falling with the movement. “I think we could all use a break,” she says.
“What kind of break?” Poppy asks without looking up from her textbook—looks like something about divination, one of Poppy’s strong suits.
Alina, Maeve, and I exchange looks, and a smile starts to curl across my lips.
At the same time, the three of us say, “Runeball!”
THIS HAS BECOME SOMEWHAT OF a tradition for us.
When classwork becomes too overwhelming or we’ve been cooped up in the castle for too long, we like to come out here onto the runeball field and fool around, tossing the arcane sphere to one another, running and laughing and letting out all the stress that so easily builds up in this academy.
And this time, Poppy joins us.
“Poppy!” I call. “This one’s yours!”
My hands tingle with warmth, and I send a burst of flame from my fingertips. The energetic blast lights the arcane sphere on fire and shoots it into the air, flying in Poppy’s direction.
“You’ve got it!” Alina calls.
“Run for it!” Maeve adds.
But the ground is slick, and I watch as if in slow motion as Poppy’s boots slip out from under her and she goes plunging right into the snow with a thump.
“Poppy!” the three of us all call at once, our cloaks snapping around our ankles as we run for her.
But someone else makes it there first, stopping us in our tracks.
“You okay?” the orc asks, kneeling next to where Poppy is now sitting in the wet slush, righting her glasses and wiping snow from the frames.
She tips her head in his direction, and if not for her cheeks already being pink from the cold, I’m pretty sure they’d be flushing like crazy right now.
“F-fine,” she squeaks up at him.
The student holds out his hand, and Poppy hesitantly takes it, allowing him to pull her to her feet.
“Thanks,” she whispers, then hurriedly pulls her hand away and starts trying to wipe the slushy snow from her cloak, looking anywhere but at him.
I share a conspiratorial glance with Alina.
Hmm.
“Aric,” Maeve says, striding forward.
The orc looks up, and his smile makes his protruding tusks that much more prevalent. “Hey, sis. What’re you girls up to?”
“Blowing off steam.” She bends over to pick up the arcane sphere from where it fell into the snow. Tossing it in her hands, she tips her head at him. “You wanna play?”
“Ha!” Aric crosses his huge arms across his chest. “I’m not sure you could keep up.”
Even from over here, I can see the challenge flicker in Maeve’s stormy eyes.
We’ve been to all the runeball games over the past two years, and I know what a proficient player Aric is. But that doesn’t stop Maeve.
“You think it’s always like this with them?” Alina whispers to me.
I nod. “Yup.”
“We can take you on,” Maeve says. Then she props one hand on her hip and looks back at us. “Right?”
“I-I think I’m gonna sit this one out,” Poppy says. She’s still wet and starting to shiver.
Immediately, I walk over to her, then hold out my hands, using a bit of fire magic to radiate warmth. It makes Poppy smile.
“Thanks, Ly.”
“Alina? Lyra?” Maeve presses. “Come on. Let’s show him how it’s done.”
I’m always up for a little friendly competition—plus, it’ll help me stop looking around, wondering if I might catch a glimpse of Cairn somewhere near the runeball field.
I thought I saw him on our walk down here, but it just turned out to be Professor Stone bundled up in way too many cloaks, the shadow of him in my periphery playing tricks on my mind.
“I’m in,” I say. I narrow my eyes at Maeve’s stepbrother. “Get ready to hurt, orc.”
“Ly,” Alina says, shooting me a sharp look.
But Aric doesn’t seem to mind. He lets out a big laugh. “Great. This should be fun.”