Chapter 1 The Book #2
She bristles against that comment because it’s so true that it stings.
She’s always longed to travel, to study, to wander and wonder.
But she’s never had the courage to leave, or a direction in which to go.
And in truth, she’s scared. Her home is a devil she knows—the world is a devil she doesn’t.
She’s always forced gratitude upon herself, even in the worst of times, because she knows that life can get so much worse than this.
But when she looks at that black book in Mrs. Schottstaedt’s weathered hands, and when she thinks about Cygnus, she wonders: If life can get worse, can’t it also get better?
She grows more excited and determined by the minute. Something about this book makes her feel as if her whole life is about to change.
“If you’d like to throw out a starting price, we could go from there,” Claudia says cheerfully. Mr. Aimes used to lower the price after a bit of sweet talk. Perhaps Mrs. Schottstaedt will do the same.
After turning over every page, Mrs. Schottstaedt closes the book in defeat. “Sorry, dear. I don’t think my brother had any intention of selling this one. It must’ve made its way onto the floor by mistake.”
“Or maybe Mr. Aimes changed his mind about selling it?” Claudia suggests hopefully.
The woman tilts her head to the side and gives her a pitiful look. “I don’t think so.”
“He must’ve intentionally put it on the shelf and forgot to price it. He’d grown quite forgetful in recent months,” she counters.
“Yes, but—”
“And it seems the bookstore belongs to you now, yes? Surely you have no qualms about selling it to me.”
Mrs. Schottstaedt gives a throaty laugh that turns into a cough. “You’re mouthy. Does that ever get you into trouble?”
She tucks her hair behind her ears and shrugs. “Usually it gets me out of trouble.”
They both laugh. There’s a glimmer of recognition in the old woman’s eyes. “What’s your name?”
“Claudia Jolicoeur.”
“Jolicoeur?”
Claudia nods and braces herself for insults. Or worse, for the accusation that her father owes Mrs. Schottstaedt money.
“You wouldn’t happen to be Elise’s daughter, would you?”
Elise. The sound of her mother’s name is an old lullaby she hasn’t heard in years. Warmth rivers through her blood. Yes, she’s Elise’s daughter. No one else’s. For a moment, she pretends her father doesn’t exist. “Yes. I am.”
“I knew your mother when she was your age. You look just like her, you know.”
Claudia knows. Every piece she got from her mother is her favorite part of herself: Dark, wild hair. Cold green eyes. Full lips and an off-center smile. She looks most like her mother when she’s happy.
“Were you friends?”
“I was too old to be her friend, but I admired her spirit. It reminded me of myself when I was young.” Mrs. Schottstaedt gives her a too-long, too-sincere look, as if the woman is scrying in Claudia’s eyes. “You have that, too. That fire burning inside.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Oh, it certainly is,” she says with a wink. The old woman’s fingers tremble when she traces the outline of the swan on the cover of the book. A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of her thin lips.
“I’ll tell you what, Claudia. I’ll sell you this book for a penny if you promise me something.”
Claudia loves a bargain. “Absolutely. What is it?” There’s not much she would object to, especially in exchange for a very pretty book.
Excitement glitters in Mrs. Schottstaedt’s green eyes, lighter than Claudia’s by several shades but no less vibrant. “Apply,” she whispers, opening the book and presenting Claudia with a page in the back titled APPLICATION. “Promise me you will apply to Cygnus University.”
Up until today, Claudia had never heard of Cygnus, but this moment feels like fate coming to pass. Nothing is more transformative than the right book at the right time. Maybe, for once, the stars are aligning for her.
Recently, her father has been working nonstop to marry her off, and Claudia knows that her best interests won’t be factored into whatever deal he’ll be making on her behalf.
If her father had it his way, Claudia would’ve been wed years ago, but her dowry is less than tempting—it’s nonexistent.
Now desperately searching for a match, the only thing Lord Jolicoeur is looking at is money, and he’s after the type of wealth that only comes with age.
Should Claudia’s fate be left in his hands, she’ll soon be wed to someone ghastly and certifiably ancient.
But if she gets into Cygnus University, she could escape this life and write herself a new one. She could change her stars for the better.
With a grin, she slides two pennies across the counter—one as payment, one as thanks. “You have a deal, Mrs. Schottstaedt.”
The old woman holds Claudia’s hands when she gives her the book. With a bright smile, she says, “Good luck.”
The last piece of Claudia’s application to Cygnus is to burn the book in which she found it.
Somehow, some way, this is how the school will receive it.
Claudia doesn’t question it—beggars for a different fate can’t be choosers.
The application itself was easy enough; she gave her name, her chosen discipline of Astrologia, a spill of her blood along a dotted line, and a heartfelt letter about why she is deserving of the power that Cygnus offers.
She wrote of her mother’s passing and how that grief will shape her into a worthy scholar.
She wrote of how Cygnus’s book called to her in the bookshop.
She wrote that she is not choosing magic—it is choosing her.
It’s October now. If she gets accepted quickly, she’ll be only a few weeks behind the other students who started in September. She’ll catch up fast.
She tosses the book into the fireplace in her room and follows it with a sizzling match.
The flames turn bright blue and the book burns white as a wishing star before the fire dies with one brilliant flash.
Every candle in her room dies with it. Claudia is left in the pitch-black dark, choking on thick green smoke that makes her head swim.
Her vision swirls while her eyes adjust to the thin moonlight streaming through her window.
She needs to clear the air or she’ll faint.
Coughing violently, she trips over her pink wool rug, her white shoes, and the corner of her bed as she crosses the room.
As soon as she opens the window, the smoke stretches out into the sky and scatters among the stars.
She watches the night swallow the last lick of green ash in the air.
A breeze as warm as breath combs through her hair.
She blinks.
The constellations are playing tricks on her. They’re trembling. Changing.
Watching.
She’s still dizzy from the smoke swirling in her brain, but she swears there are eyes in the stars staring down at her.
Exactly one month later, two things happen on the same day: First, in the morning, Claudia’s father informs her of her betrothal to Lord Fournier, a man sixty years her senior. She doesn’t panic—yet. There is still time for fate to change.
Second, in the evening, the postman hands Claudia an envelope with a swan on it—the same that was on the cover of the book she got from Mrs. Schottstaedt.
She braces herself against the iron gate in front of her home, her steeled spine perfectly centered between cold black bars.
She waits until the crunch of the postman’s steps fades.
Whatever this letter brings, she needs to be alone to receive it.
Pressing the envelope to her chest, she takes a deep breath and releases an anxious groan.
This could be nothing. This could be everything.
She tries to open it carefully, but excitement overwhelms her and she rips the letter out of its envelope.
Dear Claudia Jolicoeur,
Thank you for your interest in Cygnus University.
We regret to inform you that your chosen discipline, Astrologia, is no more.
Sidarphion, God of Stars and Nightmares, abandoned us years ago, and with the loss of his power, Astrologia was proven futile and false.
Thus, we are unable to offer you a place here.
We wish you the best in your future endeavors.
While fate is oft fickle, our decision is not.
You may not apply again.
Sincerely,
High Sage Gieffroy Triche
Three times she rereads it, hoping that this is just a nightmare.
She blinks tightly, willing herself to open her eyes to another world.
Another life. Anything, anywhere else. She’s overwhelmed with nausea.
She had not realized just how desperately she wanted this until now, until she was told she couldn’t have it.
Whoever the god of stars and nightmares is, Claudia hates him and hopes he’s suffering.
He destroyed her fate. He ruined the stars that have always called to her.
He damned her to a life she doesn’t want and a man she doesn’t love.
Panic stains her senses. Her vision goes black. It feels like there’s glass in her veins, metal in her stomach, a fist around her throat. Burning, burning everywhere. She’d made a grave mistake—confusing a dream with destiny. They are almost never the same.