Chapter 10
TEN
GWENNA
“So he’s just going to…sit there like that?”
Morgan casts a glance across Holy Grounds, to where Kai is slouched alone at a small table, drumming his fingers on its chipped surface, staring at us.
At me.
I glance over too. Briefly. And shrug.
“I guess so.”
“Charming.” Morgan sips her lavender latte. I opted for plain coffee, black. Never mind that it’s coming on four p.m.
The registrar took her sweet time finding me classes—which, except for Emrys’s independent study, were a grab bag of whatever relevant coursework had availability—and then tracking down the individual syllabi was another forty-five minutes or so of back-and-forth.
After that, it was a trip to the Housing Office to have my housing assignment officially transferred to Morgan’s suite in Cornubia Hall, which ran into a few bureaucratic hiccups until Lanz finally intervened and reminded them who I was—or, really, who Luther was.
But it all got done. And just like that, I’m back to being a regular student at Caliburn again.
Except for the part where a fencer is stalking my every move across campus.
Holy Grounds, at least, feels familiar—still plastered over with postcards and trinkets, still almost swelteringly warm even in the dead of winter, still smelling like coffee and burlap and dusty brick basement. If I close my eyes, I can almost believe things are normal.
“So how’d it go with Emrys?” Morgan asks. “Did he…explain things?”
“Sort of.” I lower my voice, not that anyone around us is really listening. Not even Kai, who arguably should be. I rehash what I learned from Emrys as much as I can, sketching out the basic contours of his theory.
When I’m done, Morgan snorts. “Typical. The church catches on to something magical and just decides to bundle it in with its own mythology. Convenient.” She harrumphs and takes another sip from her mug. “So you’ve got some kind of latent power in you, then?”
There’s that word again. Power. I don’t know how I feel about it—having power. Being powerful. I certainly don’t feel like I do, or am.
“So the theory goes,” I say.
“And you think he’s right?”
I twirl a spoon in my cup for no reason—not like I added sugar. “I don’t know,” I say. “If I hadn’t…been through what I’d been through, I probably would say he’s nuts.”
Things have happened to you that you can't explain.
There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio…
I let my gaze drift from my fingertips to the backs of my hands to my wrist, to where my sweater sleeve falls over the skin. To what lies underneath it.
Morgan nods. “So what are you going to do about it? What’s the plan?”
“What else?” I say. “Read books. Study. Look for answers.”
At that, Morgan rolls her eyes. “Typical. I mean, no offense. I’m just not one of those…” Now it’s her turn to lower her voice. “Book learning type witches. I much prefer to be hands-on, you know?” She picks up her mug as I shake my head.
“Um, no, not really.” I lick my lips. “What can you…do? Is that rude to ask?”
I dart a glance around Holy Grounds, but everyone’s still either talking amongst themselves, buried in books, or tapping at a computer. Kai’s taken to tossing a quarter in the air and catching it, like he’s trying to look as bored as possible.
And something about that irks me. I don’t like the 24/7 watch situation. Obviously. But at the same time, I don’t want him to resent having to play bodyguard.
I want him to…want to.
As stupid as that sounds.
The realization unfolds uncomfortably inside me, like a cactus blossom caught in my chest.
I want Kai committed to this.
Not because I want it to happen. Not because I want any of this to be the reality.
Because if he’s committed to it, if he’s on board and dedicated, then I can be angry at him.
I can be angry that he didn’t tell me more. That he didn’t tell me sooner. That he didn’t speak up for me when he could have. That he chose an ideology and a mission and a vow over me.
But if he’s not committed…
…if he actually finds it all meaningless and boring and a waste of time keeping him away from better things…
…then he wasn’t standing on principle. He wasn’t stuck in some kind of moral dilemma, some magical trolley problem where he could either sell me out or forfeit his one-and-only chance at achieving a greater good.
He just didn’t care.
Didn’t care what happened to me one way or the other.
And that…
That hurts.
Hurts so badly it knocks the wind out of me.
I stare into the black surface of my coffee.
“…and then just a bunch of medicine cabinet shit, basic herbs and wards and things like that. Your mundane healing potions, minor protective talismans, et cetera, et cetera,” Morgan is finishing up. Her eyebrows draw. “I’m boring you,” she says flatly.
“What?” I startle a bit. “No! Never. I was just…”
“You’re a terrible liar. Your eyes are practically glazed over.” Morgan leans back in her chair. “Don’t worry. I don’t take it personally.”
“No,” I say again, squinting my eyes shut and then open again. “I’m just…I’m tired.” That much is true. “It’s been a long day.” I am genuinely interested in whatever Morgan’s…capable of. But it might need to wait for a time when I have less…processing to do, mentally.
Morgan nods sympathetically and reaches to pat my hand when her expression falters.
“What?” I say, panicked. I look back at Kai, but he’s motionless: reclined, arms crossed and boots on a chair, possibly asleep.
Oh, fuck you, I think, and turn back to Morgan.
“Don’t look now, but…” Morgan lifts her eyebrows in the direction of the door, where two bundled-up figures are stamping snow off their boots and unwinding long scarves.
Elena, and her bestie Claire.
They’re laughing about something, chatting and glancing at the menu board until finally my presence seems to catch Claire’s eye. She does a literal, Hanna-Barbera-level double-take and grabs Elena’s arm. Elena notices, follows her gaze, and widens her eyes at me.
My heart catches in my chest. Somehow, in the thick of everything this afternoon, I’d already forgotten one of the major, existential drawbacks to being here again.
People hate me.
Having sufficiently gawked, Elena and Claire proceed to order, their heads practically glued together as they whisper.
“Nothing happened to them?” I say, my voice as low and steady as I can make it.
Morgan frowns. “Happened to them?” She glances over her shoulder. “What do you mean?”
“For the…” I don’t even want to say the word. “For what happened in the library,” I manage. “They’re just off scot-free?”
Morgan’s brows stay knit as she angles her head, thinking. “They…oh. Gwenna.” She blinks a few times. “They didn’t…it wasn’t…”
Behind us, a sharp crack of laughter rings against the brick walls.
“You seriously think the fucking…campus Heathers burned down an entire library archive? Yes, I mean you two,” he adds to Elena and Claire, who, now with their coffees, have the bad luck of having to sit at the only open table just a few feet away from him.
He sits up a little straighter, leaning on an elbow. “Please.”
I’m lost. I’m…I don’t understand. “But my room,” I start. “Our room. They…”
“What, that kiddie arson shit?” Kai laughs coldly, like I’m stupid to even suggest it.
“Do you know how often things catch fire in dorm rooms? Every semester some idiot torches up their shit up trying to microwave their Easy Mac. You’d have to try not to light a fire in there.
” He throws a glance at Elena and Claire.
“No offense to the criminal masterminds over there.”
“Fuck you, Kai,” Elena says, her cheeks pink. She glares at him, then at me, for some reason, and then glances at Claire. “You know what? Let’s—”
“Yeah.”
Claire nods hurriedly, and they scoop up their stuff and rush out, not even bothering to take their coffee.
I sit like a statue, lost for words. Lost for thoughts, even.
It wasn’t Elena.
But then—
“I’m sorry, Gwenna,” Morgan says. “I thought you…knew. I didn’t even—”
“Who did it?” The words fly out of my mouth. “I’ve…for weeks, I thought it was them. I assumed…” I rub my temples, which are suddenly pounding. “If it wasn’t them, then who?”
More snickering from behind us.
Heart thudding, I look back to Kai. His arms are folded, expression chillingly blank despite his laughter.
“Who do you think?” He leans forward, uncrossing his arms so he can rest his elbows on his knees. “Let’s really puzzle it out, shall we? Because apparently this one was the brainteaser of the fucking century.”
“Kai—” Morgan starts.
“Oh, fuck off.” He rolls his eyes at her. “You didn’t figure it out. You didn’t even tell her.” He glances at me. “Moroslav. Alexei Moroslav set that fire, Gwenna.”
My heart plunges to my stomach.
“Mystery solved,” Kai says. “Case closed. You’re welcome. Not than anyone’s bothered to thank me for that.”
He glances up at the wall clock. Five thirty-seven.
“And that’s close e-fucking-nough for me.”
He stands up so fast his chair clatters to the ground.
And then he’s gone.