Chapter 14 The Third Tree #2
“Oh, one more thing, Dahlia.” He paused, his voice softer. It was the first time he’d called me by my name, not some condescending nickname. “After you figure out who bloodied the poor lad, I do hope you’ll stay at Foresyth. You might just save us all.”
What could he possibly mean by that—save us all?
But before I could respond, he slipped out and closed the door.
Left alone with my thoughts, my mind spun, my heart racing.
Aspen knew I was investigating Julian’s death, and he was even more dangerous than I had realized.
And now, I had more information—Leone as Julian’s rival, Nina with access to potential poisons in the lab.
They could be red herrings, or they might be leads worth pursuing.
Perhaps Aspen wanted me on a wild goose chase to divert suspicion from himself, giving him enough time to strike again before the semester ended.
But I couldn’t dismiss any possibility until the truth was clear. I’d need to dig deeper into both Leone and Nina and look beyond the surface. Not to mention, I needed to follow up with the Meister and figure out why he was holding back information.
Whatever chance there had been of me leaving Foresyth was now gone.
You’re right. You’re too far gone, I could almost hear my father’s voice, resigned.
I was too deeply entangled in this case. Leaving before I solved Julian’s death was no longer an option. It wasn’t what my father would have done, and it wasn’t what I would do either.
I glanced back at the tree I had been examining before Aspen interrupted me.
Two triangles stacked to form a jagged “B.” I sketched the symbol into my notebook, resolving to find it in my rune dictionary.
I wanted to peel away more bark to see if there were other symbols hidden beneath, but I couldn’t risk drawing attention by damaging the tree.
Besides, this wasn’t the tree I was after.
*
With thoughts of Julian and tangled motives weighing on my mind, I decided to spend the following week catching up on my academics.
This meant researching runes, preparing for my meeting with the Council, and, when I had time and was sure no one was around, translating Julian’s journal.
The Meister was away on business for the week, leaving Leone—the only third-year in residence—to lead Circle every night.
That meant my mentorship meetings were postponed, and I wouldn’t have the chance to confront the Meister about The Book of Skorn until his return.
Despite everything, I managed well in Circle and even found myself enjoying the intellectual sparring with the other students. Maybe the Meister hadn’t been entirely wrong when he said I could have belonged here under different circumstances.
Midweek, I received a letter from Gabriel—another long-winded plea for me to come home—and a curt message from my mother.
She informed me she was alive, listed the books she was re-reading, and complained that Angelise was overfeeding her.
I wrote back to both in between my hours at the library and the lab.
I was in my dormitory finishing the letters when Nina strode in as if it were her room and I was the intruder.
“Are you busy?” she asked, collapsing onto my bed and dropping her satchel beside it. “You weren’t in the lab.”
I rolled my eyes and turned away from my desk.
“Not anymore, I guess. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” I asked, dripping mocking sweetness.
Aspen’s accusation still echoed raw in my mind as I considered her.
If there was a poison master at this school, Nina would be my first suspect.
But if I wanted to understand her motives, I had to tread carefully.
“I’m looking for something. I need it for my Spring Symposium project. I’ve been researching local folklore, and there’s this one legend about a satyr . . .”
I furrowed my brows, readying a response, when the door creaked open again. Sequoia entered, a wide smile on her face.
“I didn’t know Dahlia was throwing a party in here,” she mused, coming to sit beside Nina. She made a shooing motion with her hand. Nina scrunched her features but, after an awkward pause, begrudgingly moved over.
“Why don’t I call for Aspen and Leone while we’re at it?” I said dryly.
“No!” they said in unison.
“Fine. No boys. I’ll hang a sign on my door.”
“I didn’t mean to intrude. I can come back another time,” Sequoia offered, though she was already leaning back on my bed, legs crossed. “I was working on my outline for my Druid paper and wanted a second opinion.”
The light in her eyes made me pause. If the students were coming to me for help, then perhaps they were starting to see me as an equal. And despite their questionable personal boundaries, the ease between us warmed my chest.
“So, you decided to go through with it, huh?” Nina asked.
“It’s a work in progress,” Sequoia said, smoothing the wrinkles from her skirt.
I caught the tension between them and a thought took root. Was Nina’s animosity toward Sequoia tied to her proximity to Aspen? If so, she needed to see Sequoia in a different light—separate from him. As I was starting to.
“Why don’t we all help each other?” I suggested. “Sequoia and I can help you find whatever it is you’re looking for, and then we can workshop your paper together.”
Nina had granted me access to her lab—I owed her a favor. And I still felt guilty for devastating Sequoia with my previous reading. Maybe this would even the score. Maybe it would also bring me closer to understanding the students’ potential motives regarding Julian’s death.
“I’d be delighted. The girls should stick together,” Sequoia chirped.
“Nina, what do you say?”
Nina sighed. “Fine. The more, the merrier.” She pulled her bag onto my bed, unrolling several scrolls of parchment.
“Are those maps?” Sequoia asked.
“Yes—of Foresyth and the twenty or so miles surrounding it. Leone helped me dig them out from the library.”
My eyes widened. Those could be useful to me, too. I approached the bed, careful to mask my eagerness. One was an interior blueprint of the House, the other a detailed sketch of the surrounding grounds. I hadn’t realized how much land belonged to Foresyth.
“What exactly are you looking for?” I asked.
“Well, that’s the problem. It’s not something, it’s somewhere.” Nina tapped the map. “I’m looking for a region of Foresyth where the ground itself is said to have magickal properties of transmutation.”
Disappointment flickered in my chest. Magick? After I had just started to appreciate Foresyth for its intellectual rigor.
“Oh, we could try scrying!” Sequoia said enthusiastically.
“I’ve done that,” Nina said, rolling her eyes. “I was wondering if Miss Scientist could help me narrow it down with soil samples.” She pulled several vials stuffed with dark earth from her pocket. “If they have different chemistries or whatever, it might help me pinpoint the right location.”
Now that was interesting—using science to find magick.
“I could take a—” I started to say.
“You’ve tried scrying, but not with us,” Sequoia interrupted. “And not with a professional Tarot reader.” She turned to me. “Dahlia, if your cards can unearth truths about people and events, why not locations?”
Nina and Sequoia exchanged a look. I gulped.
“I’ve never tried that before,” I said. The idea of using Tarot to locate a mystical site sounded decidedly unscientific.
I much preferred analyzing the soil samples.
But I couldn’t let my cover slip—a student at Foresyth would be just as inclined, if not more, to believe in the magickal method as much as the scientific.
“We aren’t supposed to be practicing magick according to the handbook, especially for personal gain, right?” I tested.
“This isn’t for personal gain, it’s for research,” Nina said. “Besides, what do you think the Advisors do all day? Use their power for the personal gain of their clients. Isn’t that right, Sequoia?” She cut a look toward her.
Sequoia’s cheeks blushed red, and she turned her attention to the maps. “Why don’t we grid the map, assign a card to each section, and have Nina pull the one she’s drawn to?” Sequoia suggested.
That was certainly one way of doing it.
“If it doesn’t work, we can try the science way later,” Sequoia added with an exaggerated eye roll. “But this way is faster—and more fun.”
“I’m okay with that.” Nina shrugged.
The two of them looked at me expectantly. I thought it over and came to the simple conclusion that I had nothing to lose and only trust to gain from both of them.
“Oh, what the hell,” I said and started to reach for the deck of cards.
*
Hours later, Nina and Sequoia finally shuffled out of my room.
Nina had chosen the northeastern quadrant of the map, drawn to a card that turned out to be the Five of Cups, marking her next area of investigation.
We’d also gone over Sequoia’s outline, debating every point ad nauseam before I handed her a copy marked in red.
Satisfied I had settled my debts, I turned back to my unfinished letters.
Then, sparing a few painful hours for Julian’s journal, I set to work translating.
Would anything at Foresyth ever be simple?
Like Julian, I was only beginning to scratch the surface of this peculiar school—and its even more peculiar inhabitants.