Chapter 10
10
This campus doesn’t freaking end.
I want to unroll my clue in the privacy of non-college surroundings, where prying Experience participant eyes won’t see me. I mean, the whole premise of the hunt is finding a court spy, right? I need to honor the narrative Heather Winters—and Amelia—have elegantly designed.
Also, I don’t want anyone else to read my clue.
Unfortunately, however, the vast College of Hollisboro campus is inescapable. I just want to reach the end of the innumerable quads, where the salvation of sidewalk will lead me to a coffee shop or something.
I guess I’ve gotten turned around, because I keep passing imposing lecture halls I’m pretty sure I recognize from wandering by them two minutes ago. I don’t have the greatest sense of direction, to be honest.
Frustrated, I settle for the nearest building with no visible Experience affiliation. It’s modern, with high walls of huge glass windows and stainless-steel superstructure. It wouldn’t work for the Experience, not unless Winters started writing some sci-fi crossover, which, oh my god, how cool would—
No. I need to focus on my clue.
I pass a handful of students descending the hall’s wide, low steps. Heading in the open glass doors, I’m wondrously relieved when the cool curtain of the air-conditioning descends over me.
The engraved metal sign in the entry says I’ve found the science library. In the gray carpeted main room, under daylight slanting in the high windows, students work quietly. Postdocs, I’m guessing.
Scott has a master’s of English literature, from Cornell. He mentioned it during no fewer than two department meetings. He probably studied in libraries like this one.
He hasn’t worn his glasses once while here, I realize. It’s a shame.
Except—I don’t care how he looks, I remind myself. I don’t care about him at all. Ugh . I need a little alarm on my phone, every five minutes. Focus on clues. Not on Scott .
I settle into one of the chairs near the windows overlooking the river. In the hushed library, I do one final surveillance sweep for Elytheum cloaks or costumes.
I find no one. I’m in the clear.
Pretending I’m genuinely hunting the Elytheum Courts’ spy—why not, right?—I unfurl my scroll. My heart races when I read the hand-scribed missive, which is undoubtedly my next clue.
The Lord of Night cherishes me. Mounted with Glory. Watching over all.
Mounted…watching over…
The answer strikes me instantly. The Lord of Night. Val’s sword! The intricate, handcrafted weapon I noticed earlier this morning, mounted in the dining hall! Of course . Amelia and the organizers wouldn’t prepare the impressive replica without giving it some secret relevance. Winters has the same flair for repurposing memorable worldbuilding details into important plot points.
In the next moment, my high spirits descend.
I wasn’t the only person who noticed Val’s impressive sword in the dining hall. I recall the literal crowd ooh ing and aah ing over the piece earlier. For the past few hours, I’ve maneuvered and, yes, wrestled to preserve the secrecy of my clue…and now I’m going to have to seek out the most crowded place in the Experience.
Although I desperately want to, I can’t investigate the sword right now without everyone in the entire Elytheum Experience knowing of the possibility of a clue. And if someone finds it first, I’ll have to hunt the rest of the Experience for new leads. Worse, my greatest obstacle is Scott, who knows I have a clue and will be watching to follow me to the next one.
I curl my feet under me, gazing out the window, contemplating furiously. I’ll need to examine the sword when no one else is around. Which means…
The middle of the night.
Fantastic.
While the idea of staying up late after getting up at six a.m. dismays me, I muster determination. I’m not going to let exhaustion stop me. How many sleepless nights do heroines go through? If I want adventure, I’m going to have to leave my comfort zone.
And coffee. I’m going to need coffee.
My plan forged, I walk out of the library, mourning the exit from the air-conditioning. With the river to reference, I now know roughly the right direction to walk in order to return to the Experience. Without a clue to hunt until nightfall, I could rejoin the programming. The History Masters’ Seminar is unfortunately over, but once I find lunch, I’m ready to lose myself in jewelry making or embroidery.
Heading down the library steps, however, I catch sight of my own scuffed sneakers, speckled with wet grass from my morning chase with Scott.
I remember how I felt hanging out with my costumed new friends while I sat there in my Oklahoma Public Library shirt, wearing the reminder of the box of my possessions I brought here. Of how I didn’t even plan on coming to the Experience until yesterday morning. Of how I’m only here fleeing a breakup. Sometimes literally, in a pair of grass-stained Adidas.
No longer! Feeling inspired from my resolution, I decide if I’m going to act like a heroine, I’m going to need to dress like one.
Lord Valance isn’t the only fan art subject readers go wild for. Endless incredible renderings of Kethryn and her spinoff-ready ladies-in-waiting light-up fans’ For You Pages with elaborate, glittering costumes. They’re iconic. Sexy. Fierce.
With new eagerness, I check the Experience map. Yes, it’s unhelpfully light on detail concerning how to get from campus to, say, CVS. But it’s perfect for my purposes. Drawn in the fantastical style of the maps in the Elytheum books, it depicts the parts of campus the Experience is using for locations. The dorms, the dining hall, the main library, the archery range, and more.
I quickly find the destination I’m looking for—the costume boutique. It’s set up inside the student center. The center is drawn like an ornate, multistory structure with dresses in the windows, exactly like a venturesome fae visitor would find in Kethryn’s flourishing courtly city.
If Scott can suddenly act like an Elytheum leading man, I can change myself into an enchanting leading lady.
I hasten my steps, enjoying this plan. It’s not enough to experience the fantasy—I’m going to become it.