Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Briony
“It’s me, Fly,” a hoarse voice whispers though the stone wall.
I’m snapping away from Thorne almost immediately, and igniting the light in my hands, urging the library to slide back the secret door.
My tall friend stumbles into the tunnel, looking uncomfortable, twisting his hands together like he’s wringing a towel.
“What’s wrong?” I gasp, jumping towards him.
“Nothing, Cupcake,” he says, holding his hand out to me. “It’s just…” He swallows. “The academy was never a fun place to begin with. Let’s just say it’s even less fun right now.”
I nod in understanding.
“Sterling’s heard about the Princes’ escape. They know you’re on the run. They’ve stepped up the security.”
“Have you spoken to him?” I ask, eyes running over my friend for any signs that he’s hurt or injured.
“We exchanged some words,” he says. “But don’t worry, he doesn’t know anything.”
“And Clare?” I say, feeling my body turn rigid.
“She’s in there now talking to him.”
I glance anxiously towards the Professor who has joined us in the tunnel and rests his hand on my shoulder.
“Clare can look after herself, Briony. Just trust her.”
“Were you followed here?” Beaufort says, glancing towards the open doorway.
Fly shakes his head.
“How do you know?” Dray asks, narrowing his eyes.
“Eros,” my friend says. “I lived a very covert lifestyle back in Iron. There were certain activities I was involved in that my family would not have approved of. I’m very good at throwing people off the scent and sneaking around.”
The shifter sniffs but doesn’t say anything else.
“They might notice you’re missing again,” the Professor says.
Fly nods. “Which is why this is just a quick courtesy call to tell you how things are out there right now. I’d proceed with caution.”
I give him a hug. He kisses my cheek, and then he’s racing away again.
“I don’t like this,” I say when he’s gone. “I’m putting my friends in harm’s way.”
“Your friends are your friends, Briony,” the Professor says, “because they care about you, and they’re willing to face that danger because of you.”
I haven’t exactly been popular at the academy.
Long before we realized both Bardin and the Empress were probably going to try and kill me, there were other people making my life miserable, and by association Fly and Clare’s too.
Yet, both my friends have stuck by me from the very beginning despite the shit this has thrown their way.
“I think we’re safe to go visit Cornelius,” Fox says, taking my hand.
“You think so?” I say.
“Briony. I know this academy like the back of my hand, far better than Sterling does. Trust me.”
“Didn’t know about the secret room though, did you, Prof?” Dray mutters. “Or the tunnel leading out to the Highlands.”
“I know enough,” the Professor says, scowling at him.
“And what are we meant to do while you’re gone?” Dray says, kicking at the floor. He’s still slightly green, although he’s clearly been scrubbing at his skin.
“Make yourselves useful. Make dinner or something.”
Dray goes to argue, but the Professor is already pulling me through the doorway and into the library.
He pauses, listening and sniffing the air, then he raises his hand, and the walls and shelves all move again.
We step further into the library. It’s dark and quiet and empty.
I’ve never been more relieved that most students in this academy rarely visit the library.
“Which way now?” I ask.
The Professor presses a finger to his lips, and has his shadows dancing around us the next moment.
Then we’re creeping out along the pathways.
We don’t take the main routes – we take the ones around the edge of the academy, dodging guards and students, keeping hidden in the shadows until finally we’re outside Professor Cornelius’s quarters.
I can hear the voices of other teachers, and I glance at the Professor anxiously.
He waves his hand. The door to the professor’s room opens, and we slip inside.
The heat from a fire hits us instantly. It’s roaring in the hearth, and Professor Cornelius sits in an armchair in front of the fire, a glass of what looks like sherry in his hand and his eyes closed.
Fox shuts the door quietly behind us, and we tiptoe across the room, every wall covered in over-stuffed bookcases.
“Come to see me again so soon, Fox?” the professor asks.
I thought he was asleep, but he’s clearly awake.
Fox steps into the firelight in front of him, his skin turning an instant orange, the color of sunsets.
“You remember our conversation earlier this morning, Cornelius?” Fox says to the old man, who nods in return. “I come with more information. Information I want your opinion on.”
The professor turns his head, sees me lingering by the door, and beckons me inside.
“Come on, my child. I’m sure you wish to join this conversation.”
“It’s Briony who discovered the information, Cornelius. A secret room in the library. It appears to be a safe room. It appears to be one only a lumomancer could open.”
“Interesting,” the professor says. “What was inside?”
“Beds, clothing, supplies, weapons.”
“And some books. Some books on lumomancer history,” I add.
The professor nods and places the sherry on a table by his side. Then he removes his reading glasses from his nose, folds in their arms, and places them on top of an open book. He massages his temple with one hand.
“Long ago, the academy wasn’t an academy.”
“It was a castle,” I say.
“Correct,” the professor answers. “It was a castle that belonged to lumomancers.”
“Oh,” I say, shocked. That wasn’t anything I’d ever heard before.
“How do you know that?” Fox asks. “So much of the history of the time has been lost.”
“Lost,” Professor Cornelius says, “or destroyed.” I nod. “Sometimes you see them, though, Fox, the old markings on the walls, the ones that have been missed by those who tried to erase them. There’s some down by the great dragon though, if you know where to look.”
“There were some in the tunnel leading to the secret room, and in the tunnel that goes out to the Highlands,” I say. “Strange shapes and symbols.”
“Yes,” he says. “A code, I imagine. One the lumomancers used when they were being persecuted.”
“Then you knew,” I say in utmost surprise.
“Did not know,” he says. “Suspected. That’s what you’ve come to tell me, isn’t it?”
I nod again. “The books we found were histories of lumomancers. And they talked of a time when light wielders and shadow weavers lived side by side in this kingdom, in this realm – when all sorts of magic existed, including dragons. When the people chose the emperor or the empress that would rule them.” Professor Cornelius is quiet, listening to me, the fire crackling behind my back, hot against my skin.
“But then the shadow weavers became greedy. They longed for more power and more control over the realm. They went to war with the lumomancers and they wiped out my people completely.”
“And then the demons came,” Professor Cornelius whispers.
“The shadow weavers created the demons.”
“Yes,” he agrees, “but I don’t think it was intentional.” I scoff, folding my arms over my chest. “They committed a great act of evil. They disrupted the balance of the universe – snuffing out the light and leaving us only with darkness, and from that darkness came the demons.”
I let his words flow over me, taking in their meaning and their significance.
“Fate has bound me to Briony, Cornelius,” Fox says, “it’s bound Beaufort Lincoln, Dray Eros, and Thorne Cadieux to her too.”
The professor stares at me. “The flame to light the wild fire.”
“What?” I say.
“Why do you think the Empress – and most probably every emperor and empress before her too – has worked so hard to snuff out every flicker of light?”
“To keep control of the realm.”
“Yes, because once the light is allowed to reawaken – reawaken fully – it will spread.”
“What do you mean, Cornelius?” Fox asks.
“There will be other lumomancers whose light magic has lain dormant in their veins and now it will awaken.”
“Others?” I say, amazed.
“Your sister had the power, did she not?” the old man asks me. “I think you once told me she was killed here at the academy.”
“She could weave shadows not light,” I say, my heart dropping. Maybe the professor is confused as always.
“Are you sure?” Fox asks me. I frown. “You were young, Briony. Maybe what you thought you saw was a flicker of shadow – but maybe it was light.”
“I don’t know,” I say, trying to force the memory of that time back before my eyes, trying to see it again with a new perspective.
“But these are just the musings of an old man,” Professor Cornelius says, slumping back a little in his chair. “All this could be wrong.”
I go to ask more but then Fox is forcing me behind him, his gaze darting to the door.
“Sterling,” he whispers.