Chapter 17
Seventeen
Ivy
An even thicker silence hangs over the school when I return to the Domi. Even the drunkards have found their way to their beds.
I slink through the halls with every sense on the alert. The small weight grazing my hip with the sway of my skirt keeps me tensed even though it appears to be a decoy.
I bring my bracelet to the right spot on Stavros’s door and ease it open at the click of the lock. To my surprise, the former general hasn’t prowled out so he can glower at me immediately on my return.
As I shut the door behind me, a grunt reaches my ears from the bedroom. Then a violent rustle of fabric.
My pulse lurches. Has someone broken into the rooms and attacked him?
I dash to the bedroom door and yank it open.
In the thin moonlight, it’s immediately clear that Stavros is alone on his expansive bed. He’s sprawled on top of the covers, his vest discarded on a nearby chair but his massive frame still clothed in the same dress shirt and trousers he was wearing when I left.
That and the prosthetic hand still attached to his wrist prove he didn’t plan to fall asleep. It looks as if he propped himself up on a pillow leaning against the headboard and then sagged to the side when he drifted off accidentally.
I have been gone for a while.
The chiseled planes of his face have softened in this state, but somehow that makes him look both younger and wearier.
I can’t help remembering the way he talked the first time he woke me up from a nightmare, when he let his cocky assurance drop for long enough that I could see how much the loss of his gift and his military career weighed on him.
He’s carrying plenty of burdens of his own. Which must be why his sleep is anything but peaceful.
As I take in the scene, his arm jerks against the covers with another rasp of fabric. His brow furrows, and he sucks in a hitched breath.
“No,” he mutters. “Michas, watch— Stop!”
The last words come out so raw I can’t bear to walk away. I dart to the edge of the bed and grasp his ankle.
“Stavros,” I say, low but forceful, giving his leg a quick shake. “Wake—”
He jolts upright before I can even finish the command. His hand whips toward me as if to grab me, and I throw myself backward.
My shoulder jars against the side of the doorframe. My magic flares with a defensive lash, but I grit my teeth and tamp it down.
Prickles spread through my chest in response, like a dozen needles scraping their points over my innards. It’s still a mild enough pain that I can stand against it, but a chill quivers through me.
My power is getting more restless. How long until it starts ripping open my lungs and whatever else again?
The former general glares at me, both his hair and his eyes fathomlessly dark in the dimness, his entire body rigid. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The cutting tone, somehow even more hostile than what he usually aims at me these days, kindles my temper and burns away every shred of sympathy. As if I’m not already dealing with enough without him becoming an even bigger jerk.
I stay where I am, crossing my arms and glaring right back at him. “Waking you up from what sounded like a pretty unpleasant dream. You’re welcome.”
His lips draw back from his teeth. “I don’t need you fighting any battles for me. Worry about yourself. What happened in the woods?”
“I didn’t cause any disasters,” I shoot back. “And I think I played the part well enough that I’ll get deeper into the conspiracy. They’re too cautious to give away much at the beginning, of course.”
“So you’ve got nothing useful after all that fuss.”
I swallow a hiss of exasperation. “Nothing that’ll take down the scourge sorcerers right this minute, but I’m on the right track.”
“Wonderful. If you haven’t set the school falling down around our ears, get out of my bedroom and I’ll hear about the rest with the others.”
The dismissal stings, which maybe is why I let my curiosity get the better of me as I scoot into the doorway. “Who’s Michas?”
The snarl in Stavros’s voice confirms just how unwise a question that was. “You’re the last person who should be bringing up that name. Get the fuck out!”
With a wince, I scramble over the threshold and yank the door shut behind me.
I’ve never heard him talk about anyone named Michas before, Julita murmurs. What under the gods’ gaze is the matter with Stav tonight?
Stavros’s parting words have made me abruptly sure of the answer, with a sour taste that’s crept up the back of my throat.
Who would enter one of his nightmares that he’d be particularly offended by me talking about? What are the chances it’s not the one person close to him who was murdered by a riven sorcerer like me?
And if he came out of a dream about monstrous magic only to see the most recent person he’s witnessed working it… I can’t say I forgive him for his animosity, but I can understand it.
Even if I can explain his reaction to myself, that doesn’t make the atmosphere in his quarters any more comfortable. I drift over to the sofa, but my skin is itching, my heart beating at an anxious pace.
I’m not getting any sleep like this. How can I drift off with just a door between me and a man who’s looking like he wants to murder me?
My head feels heavy with fatigue after the late night and the stress of everything I’ve been through, but with every second I stand within these walls, my nerves twitch with more agitation.
My magic will act up even more if I’m in a panic. I need to walk it off. Clear my head, give Stavros time to simmer down.
Maybe by the third bell, I’ll feel like I can take a little rest.
Julita stays silent as I slip back into the hall. She’s been with me through enough turmoil to know my usual habits for dealing with fraught situations.
I don’t want to roam around inside the building where I might disturb the other inhabitants. So I descend the back stairwell again and step out into the cool night air.
My feet carry me of their own accord across the courtyard. I tip my head back and take in the vast stretch of stars in the clear sky above me.
A pang like homesickness runs through my chest. The tops of the buildings on either side of me cut off a lot of my view, though.
I sneak through one of the Quadring’s side halls to the broader fields of the outer courtyard. There’s a gazebo a short distance behind the stables, where I often see students gathered to gossip and flirt during the day.
At night, it’s just an empty shell. An empty shell with a conveniently placed railing for my purposes.
I hang back at the edge of the entranceway while a soldier on patrol marches past. When he’s disappeared around the front of the Quadring, I steal across the field to the gazebo.
Clambering up the side isn’t quite as easy in a gown and cloak as it would have been in my typical outer-wards tunic and breeches, but I manage with a minimum of fumbling. My sliced palm doesn’t even sting in its bandage of healing fabric.
I haul myself onto the slanted roof and lie back on the smooth boards with the sky spread above me.
“Now that’s a view,” I whisper.
I’ve never paid much attention to the stars, Julita admits. I suppose if I was up after dark, it was usually at a dance or a pub, not out in the open.
When I was little, Linzi and I occasionally snuck out at night to the small park near our house. We’d huddle together on the grass, suppressing giggles, and I’d point out the constellations I’d learned to her.
Back when the world seemed like a relatively safe place, with not much more to worry about than tripping on a loose cobblestone or getting ink on a favorite dress.
Melancholy swells up inside me. I push it away with a lift of my hand toward the stars.
“That line there they call Elox’s Staff. You see it makes kind of a curve at the top like a shepherd’s crook?”
So we’re supposed to think Elox is lounging about up there in the sky?
My lips twitch in amusement. “It’s more of a poetic thing. But I guess he could be. Aren’t the godlen supposed to be everywhere all at once?”
Julita chuckles. It’s a wonder they ever pay attention to anything at all down here when they’re spread that thin. We should be glad Kosmel, at least, noticed enough to get involved.
I’m not sure I love the results of the trickster godlen’s involvement, but I keep that to myself and point to a different part of the sky. “That diamond-ish cluster is supposed to be Inganne’s greatest kite.”
Hmm, I can almost see that one. I think she’d appreciate a sparkly accessory.
Having been to one of the joyfully chaotic temples dedicated to the godlen of creativity and play, I can agree with that.
I squint at the twinkling specks of light to see what else I can pick out. “That bright line there with a triangle at the end is Sabrelle’s Spear. And the clump over there gets called Prospira’s Basket, but no one seems to be able to agree whether it’s full of fruit or bread or coins.”
Julita lets out a soft snort. Somehow I’m suspecting it depends a lot on the interests of the person making the claim. It just looks like a big jumble to me.
A smile crosses my lips. “Yeah, I’ve always thought that one is kind of a stretch.”
An unexpected sense of peace has settled over me as we’ve talked, as if Elox has cast a blanket of serenity down over me with his starry staff. The tension in my chest has loosened.
I’m not alone, no matter where I go. Sometimes that’s frustrating and unnerving… but sometimes it’s kind of wonderful.
I push myself up on my elbows to study the horizon. “I think right over there you can see Estera’s Tome, that square-ish shape with—”
A hard but level voice cuts through the night. “What are you doing?”
I flinch in surprise and brace my hands against the boards on either side of me to hold my balance. I’ve kept my voice so quiet I hadn’t thought anyone would notice, and I didn’t hear footsteps approaching.
Pulse thudding, I tilt forward to peer over the edge of the gazebo’s roof.
A man in the deep blue uniform of the Crown’s Watch stands just below me. His pale face with its topping of chocolate-brown curls is tipped to fix me with a stare as hard as his voice.
Even if my nerves didn’t shiver with the traces of magic wafting off him, I’d instantly recognize those stunning looks. It’s the guard who’s made me uneasy before.
Despite the darkness, his striking blue-green eyes seem to hold a light of their own. An alertness that’s piercing me right now.
Fortunately, as far as I’m aware, nothing I’m doing at the moment is any sort of crime. The soldiers who’ve been assigned to monitor the college must be getting used to the random habits of rich young nobles.
“I’m stargazing,” I say honestly.
A small furrow forms in the middle of the guard’s smooth brow. He really is far too pretty for his job. “Watching the stars? What for? They aren’t doing anything.”
He might be pretty, but apparently he’s also a stick in the mud.
I can’t stop a dry edge from creeping into my tone. “Because they’re spectacular to look at? Because they inspire all kinds of stories?”
The expression on the guard’s face suggests he’d question what stories are for too. Instead, he shifts his focus. “Who were you talking to?”
If the magic vibes he’s giving off have anything to do with judging my honesty, I can still say this and not really be lying. “My sister.”
Her memory has been hovering alongside Julita and me since I climbed up here, after all.
The guard frowns. “There’s no one up there with you.”
“I know. She’s dead.”
I probably shouldn’t let myself get a perverse pleasure out of seeing my interrogator’s face turn even more perplexed, but he’s kind of asking for it. Surely it didn’t look as if I was actually causing any harm sitting up here, but he had to interrupt me anyway.
“Why would you talk to someone who isn’t alive?” he asks.
I shrug. “Sometimes they still have meaningful things to say, even if only inside your head. If you don’t believe there’s anything more to the world than what you can see right in front of you, you’re going to miss a lot.”
I can’t tell what the guard makes of that comment. He pauses for a second and then motions to the school buildings behind him. “You should be inside. Everyone’s sleeping now.”
“You aren’t,” I point out pedantically, but I scoot to the edge of the roof and drop to the ground with a soft thump of my feet. “I’m going now. You can be reassured that the world is set back into order.”
I stride toward the Quadring without a backward glance, but I can feel the guard’s gaze on me the whole way.
Do you think we need to be worried about him? Julita asks.
I can only grimace in answer.
I don’t know. But I sure hope not, because it’s not as if I’ve got a shortage of worries as it is.