Chapter 6
Attraction between two molecules is a form of alchemy. With the right conditions—heat, base, balance—reactions may arise far beyond design or intent.
—“Modern Principles of Alchemy and Potions,” Dr. S. Davenport, Journal of Applied Alchemical Sciences
Friday arrives, and it brings Magnus with it, calling all of us into the Blue Dahlia parlor for an announcement.
“It’s customary to give first-years a treat on the last day of orientation.
If you haven’t heard of Whittaker’s famous hot springs, you’re in for a surprise.
Bring swimwear if you have it; if not, you can wear your gym clothes.
After that will be a barbecue and the Whittaker bonfire in the quad to celebrate the start of the new school year. ”
He gives us ten minutes to get ready before herding us out the door, where our squad spills into a growing tide of other first-years and a handful of other orientation leaders.
We follow the others along a narrow, rocky trail that weaves up the base of the mountain curling protectively around Lake Caldrith.
The stone underfoot is cool to the touch and the air grows heavier with each step.
Shadows deepen as the path narrows, funneling us toward the mouth of a cave.
The mountain here seems to breathe—a steady hum of wind and heat that brushes against my skin like a living pulse.
The Cavern, as it is aptly named, breathes eucalyptus and mint over us, cool and sharp, with sulfur lurking just behind its teeth.
There is a dampness and a hiss to the stones from the tunnels of underground hot springs that feed the pools carved into the cave floor.
The entrance hall—if you can call it that—is flanked on both sides by two giant natural pools where the water bubbles and steams, creating a curtain of haze and making my skin bead with sweat.
There are two smaller pools further down, infused with what must be healing herbs and minerals—their rich and earthy scent reaching out to grab us as we pass.
Gold lights shine down from the chamber walls, making the water and mist glow.
It is obviously a place of rest, ritual, and retreat.
“First-years are allowed to use the first four pools. Changing rooms and showers are here and here,” says Magnus, pointing to two wooden doors on opposite ends of the first cave.
“I’ll give you guys a tour of the whole place, but just know you won’t be allowed to use the private pools or showers in the last chamber until you earn it through rank. ”
We follow him to another cave entrance toward the back of the main hall. The next cave is all black volcanic stone, veined with shimmers of quartz, amethyst, and feldspar. It is lit with torchlight that catches and scatters the crystals in a kaleidoscope of color.
But what is most striking is the center of the cave, where a turquoise pool sits surrounded by crumbling stone, soft moss draping it in greenery under where the cave opens to the sky above.
Pure, unfiltered sunlight shines through, making the pool almost iridescent.
Tiny ferns sway along the water’s edge while purple and green orchids bloom between the stones like forgotten offerings.
A faint circle of runes is carved into the ground below, the primordial symbols glinting softly in the light.
The beauty of the scene before me takes my breath away. And yet… I feel like I’ve been here before.
“Fresh water from rain and gods know what else this cave system creates; it’s been here for hundreds of years, if not longer,” Magnus says. “You can occasionally find fish and other creatures living in it, though we’ve no idea how they end up here.”
My fingertips prickle with the knowledge of something buried and ancient as the water in the pool seems to sway in response.
Or is that just a trick of the light? I smooth my hands against my leggings to try to still the sensation that’s now reached my arms—it feels as if ice water is threading through my veins, so cold it almost burns.
I look around at the others, but no one else seems to be as affected by the water as I am.
Strange. I turn back toward the entrance and the sensation stops.
Beyond the pool, the Cavern splits into two, with the chamber on the left showing a dramatic vaulted ceiling. Deep-red and purple stalagmites and stalactites reach toward each other in a mineral prayer. The chamber on the right hovers with curls of steam that beckon toward us as if to draw us in.
“We call this the Crystal Cavern,” Magnus says, gesturing to the cave we are standing in. “The cave on the back left is known as the Amaranth—used for meditation or quiet work. To the right are the private pools and rooms for officers only.”
A suspended wooden walkway with spaced-out planks—perfectly aligned to make the ground even—leads the way to the private pools. A boom of laughter echoes from the chamber within as a group of officers emerge at the entrance.
The tallest of them has to duck under the cave wall and is looking down as he enters the Crystal Cavern.
A shock of chestnut-brown hair falls over what I know are eyes that are not quite blue, not quite green, but something like sea glass held up to a dusky sky, surrounded by a frame of thick lashes.
A small lightning-shaped scar cuts across the corner of his jaw, the white of it shining as the torchlight dances across his face.
His eyes flick over to us. My breath hitches when he catches my stare, and his eyes widen in utter shock and surprise.
He leans down and whispers something to his companions as they start to walk toward us.
“Cadet, what do we have here?” he says, not taking his eyes off me. The silent and glaring question in them is apparent. His easygoing swagger I know so well is only betrayed by the stiffness in his arms, as if he’s trying to contain some emotion he doesn’t want to give away.
“Just giving a tour of the Cavern to the first-years, Officer Gallegher,” Magnus replies.
He smiles at our group—that smile, the cocky but ridiculously endearing smile that I know by heart—and I swear I hear every first-year girl gasp just as I feel every first-year boy try to stand as tall as physically possible.
“Squads, you have the honor of meeting Officer Noa Gallegher. First in his class and the winner of pretty much every Whittaker school challenge ever invented,” Magnus says with a hint of awe.
Noa. He’s here. Not even ten feet away.
I can hear whispers from my squad and some of the others around me, hurriedly talking all at once. Everyone in the magick world has apparently heard of Noa Gallegher. His magick is as deadly as his looks are sinful.
His golden-tan skin peeks through a black muscle tee. I suddenly have the urge to reach for his chest and run my hands down that slick fabric, curling myself around his body like a cat.
Gods, get it together, Farris.
Summer is long over, and a lot has happened since then. At least that’s what I try to remind myself.
Noa cocks his head at me and then addresses Magnus.
His fingers tap at his sides like he’s willing them not to reach forward.
“I know first-years don’t get to see the private caves until they’ve earned it, but you have among your group an old family friend who I’m very surprised to see here in our establishment right now,” he says with an intense, pointed look in my direction.
“I’d like to keep Initiate Farris for a bit, if that’s alright with you, Magnus? ”
Magnus looks like he might faint that Noa even knows his name and hurriedly agrees, ushering the rest of the group back toward the Cavern’s main entrance.
I don’t move from where I stand as the group disperses, sending curious looks in my direction.
I’m suddenly hyper-aware of everything around me—the hard stone beneath my feet, the wafts of steam caressing my body, the beads of sweat sliding down my back from the heat I can feel pulsing from behind the next room.
“Initiate Farris?” Noa says with a hint of a question as he extends an arm forward, clearly wanting me to follow.
His three companions are other fourth-year officers, as noted by the four tiger stripes on the pentagon patches sewn onto their uniforms. The tall, sandy-haired officer on Noa’s left gives him an inquisitive look, but I catch the smirk that follows as he tugs his other two companions toward the front entrance.
“Right… Noa, we’ll meet you at the commons later?
” He looks at me curiously and gives me a wink before disappearing out the front archway with the others.
I follow Noa down the wooden walkway toward the back of the cave, and we enter the next room.
The space feels more like the hold of an old ship than a cave.
There is a bowed ceiling with torchlight highlighting two dozen polished wood doors on either side, each decorated with a carving representing an element—air, fire, water, earth, and a few others I don’t recognize.
The air in here is steamy and ridiculously warm, smelling of cedar and citrus.
I can hear breezes of overlapping conversations and muffled laughter from the other sides of those doors, as well as the sound of water echoing off what sounds like stone, or maybe wood.
A door on the left opens and two girls walk out just as Noa reaches for my hand, pulling me toward one of the doors on the right—the one marked with a flame carved into the wood.
I catch their surprised glances as they see me with him before I’m pulled into the room and the door is shut firmly behind me.
Suddenly, it’s just us, the outside world vanishing—just the heat of the cave, the flickering torchlight, and space and time between us.
And then I can’t breathe.
Noa pushes me against the door, lips meeting mine in a kiss that is anything but gentle. He’s tasting me like he might never get to again, like he’s been waiting too long and now there’s no room for restraint.
I lose myself in it.