Chapter 8
T ouron didn’t make our pancake dreams come true, but he promised to make some for dessert later. Instead, we scarfed down eggs, courtesy of Derek, along with crispy bacon and hot buttered toast. Derek passed the teapot so we could refill our mugs.
“Levi should have stayed for food,” Touron said. “I’m worried about him.” Levi had left before Curi and I returned, gone to set up for training, Touron had said, whatever that entailed. “He looks exhausted. Like he hasn’t slept or eaten properly. Cam, did you guys talk?”
I sighed. “Yes. We did, and we’re all good.”
“Maybe if you invite him to eat with us later,” Touron suggested.
My chest tightened. Had I been that bad to Levi? Was he avoiding meals because of me? “I’ll speak to him. Insist he join us.”
“Orix might be back with Willowman by then,” Shar said. “We can eat together.”
“We’ll need more chairs,” Palia said.
“There are some in the living room,” Ginia reminded her.
“Those aren’t proper dining chairs.”
“It hardly matters as long as they’re somewhere to park an ass.”
Palia shot her a reproachful glance, and Ginia pretended not to see it.
We finished up our meal, tidied away, then headed out of the tower.
The twins walked ahead. They had their hair up in high ponytails today so that Ginia’s waves cascaded about her shoulders, and Palia’s poker-straight locks swayed against her back.
I forgot they were twins sometimes, despite their physical similarities, because their personalities were so distinctly different.
“I can’t believe that Melanie is a spirit ghoul,” Ginia said.
“Do you even know what a spirit ghoul is?” Palia asked.
“Of course I do,” Ginia sniffed. “A ghost who’s become a ghoul, duh!”
Palia rolled her eyes. “They’re not common, you know.
Most ghosts who lose their memories become angry spirits, not ghouls.
Only the ones who’ve experienced a terrible loss become ghouls, feeding off the lives of others to replace what they subconsciously know they have lost. They never succeed in being whole again. ”
This was news to me. “I didn’t know that.”
We hit the main path to central campus, and the hubbub of goyles hurrying to classes and training surrounded us.
No one gave us a second look, though, and even the alchemists that floated about campus were ignored.
It was strange how quickly things went back to normal after a tragedy, especially if that tragedy didn’t directly affect you.
Only a handful of us had been on the battlefield a week ago; the rest of the cadets here were unscathed, untouched by the nightmares that the encounter had paired us with.
“You know, if not for the alchemists hanging around, you’d think nothing had happened,” Ginia said, echoing my thoughts. “But everything has changed. We were breached.”
We slowed as we rounded the main building and came abreast of the initiate training grounds. I spotted Waxen and Saffe among the other initiates and raised a hand in greeting.
“See you later,” Touron said as he and the twins broke off to join them.
Curi, Shar, and I continued down the path toward the training room. A group of cadets strode toward us, Hawke at the helm. He raised his chin in greeting and slowed his pace. The others with him peeled away.
“How are you, Basque?” Hawke asked.
“I’m coping. Headed to training now. You?”
“Still reeling. Look, I’m sorry for your loss. But I know you guys will get the bastards responsible. I just wish I could help.”
“You can, by keeping the academy safe when we’re gone. I don’t for one second believe there aren’t more spies here.”
“Agreed,” Hawke said. “We’ll keep our eyes peeled, trust me.”
A prickle rushed over my skin, a magnetic force drawing my attention toward the back of the main building where two alchemists stood watching us. “They give me the creeps.”
“Me too,” Hawke said. “They’ve been here a week and found nothing, which is odd.”
“Or they’ve found something, but we’ve not been told,” Shar said. “I’m pretty sure anything they find will be passed straight to the council.”
“Or not…” Hawke muttered.
“Hawke!” Farnell called from the training ground.
“I’ve got to go. But we’ll catch up soon. Be safe.” He jogged off toward Farnell and the initiate camp.
I glanced across at the alchemists before following Curi and Shar to the training room. “What do they do when they’re not mind-diving?”
“No idea,” Curi said.
“I heard that there are two groups,” Sharniza said. “One that works directly with the council and provides protection and interrogation while another works with the humans in the lab project.”
“Lab project?”
“They make the tinctures, potions, and various other healing tonics for the guardians.”
“Like Willowman?”
“There aren’t many like Willowman, Yarrow, and Flora left,” Shar said. “Witches are rare, and we’re lucky to have three here on campus. I’m sure the council would have loved to have them on staff at HQ, but you don’t strongarm a witch into doing your bidding.”
So they were here because they wanted to be. Because they wanted to help. “But what are the alchemists, exactly? Not witches or mageri, so…what?”
“Humans with abilities,” Curi said. “That much I know.” He pushed open the training room door. “And we can talk about this later.”
He was right. We were here to train, so why was the room so dark, and where was Levi?
The smell of incense teased my nose as the door closed behind us. It took a moment for my night vision to kick in and spot the two figures standing on the far side of the room.
Levi and a woman.
They broke from their conversation and crossed the room toward us. I got a closer look at the woman—slender but not athletic, dressed casually in jeans, a sweater, and sneakers. It was hard to determine her age in the gloom, late twenties, early thirties maybe?
“Why the gloom?” Shar asked.
“It’s necessary to the training,” Levi said.
“You want us to fight in the dark?” Curi asked.
“You won’t be fighting,” Levi said. “Not in the traditional sense.” He looked down at the woman, who nodded in agreement, her sleek bob swaying against her jaw.
There was something familiar about her. About the curve of her brows and the dips at the corner of her mouth. “And who is this?”
The woman smiled, and I suddenly knew exactly who she was.
“I’m Levi’s mother, Adaline. It’s nice to meet you all.”
His mother? He’d brought her here? My gaze whipped up to Levi. “I don’t understand. I thought you weren’t allowed to help us, but you told your mother?”
“Now that the whole elite team is down, it benefits us all if you three survive the trial. I spoke to my mother a couple of days ago and explained the situation.”
“And Ulrickson knows about this?” Sharniza asked.
“He knows that she’s visiting me…” He looked uncomfortable, and his mother continued for him.
“Ulrickson hopes we might rekindle our romance. I’m meeting with him later.”
She was using her wiles as a diversion. Nice.
Levi cleared his throat. “One dinner, that’s all. It was the only way for her to meet you all and deliver the real reason for her visit.”
“I thought you couldn’t tell us what to expect,” Curi said.
“I can’t,” Levi said.
“And neither can I,” Adaline added. “But I can help you prepare.” She drew a pouch from her pocket and extracted a locket dangling from a chain.
“I have one for each of you. The locket contains a special concoction of herbs to allow you to fall into a deep meditative state. It is there that you must find yourselves.”
“You want us to meditate?” Curi asked. “ That’s the training?”
“It’s the only training,” Levi said. “The better you know yourselves, the more likely you are to pass the trials.”
Shar held out her hand. “Fine, let’s get on with this.”
Adaline handed each of us a locket, which we slipped around our necks.
“They must be touching the skin to work,” Adaline said.
I tucked mine beneath my T-shirt, and the others did the same with their lastonflex tops.
“Now what?” Curi asked.
“Now you take a seat, close your eyes, and relax,” Adaline said.
“I want you to focus inwards,” Levi said. “Just forget the world and focus on your own breath and the beat of your heart. Sink into those sensations.”
I found a spot on a mat and sat down cross-legged. “How long do we do this?”
“We’ll start with thirty minutes today,” Levi said. “I’ll let you know when the time is up. Don’t worry, just relax.”
I closed my eyes and exhaled, allowing my body to relax with each breath until there was nothing but me and the darkness. Nothing but me and the gentle warmth spreading across my collarbones. Nothing but the even pulse in my throat.
I floated for long moments until the darkness turned gray then amber and I was looking down at a large, pink cage sitting on a desk. There was something important inside it. Something that mattered greatly to me.
“It’s all right, love. He’s gone to a better place,” my mother said.
“No he hasn’t. He’s right there. Why isn’t he moving? Is he broken? Mumma, can you fix him?”
“No, sweetheart.”
I could see what was inside the cage now: a small white mouse lying stiff and unmoving on its side.
I knew this mouse. My buddy. My buddy Derek. Mum had named him for me because I’d struggled to come up with a name. I’d played with him every day. He’d been a four-year-old’s best friend. How could I have forgotten him? How could I have forgotten the pain of his loss?
Mum gently scooped him out of the cage.
“Where are you taking him?” four-year-old me asked.
“We’ll find a nice box and bury him.”
“In the ground?”
“Yes, sweetheart.”
“No. No, you can’t take him. He’ll be scared.”
Mum’s face came into view, her beautiful blue eyes filled with sadness. “He can’t be scared anymore, Cameron. Because he’s gone. This here”—she held up the dead mouse—“it’s just a shell now. The power that made it work and move and be Derek is gone.”
I didn’t understand. I didn’t get it. “Where? Where is he gone?”
“To a better place.”
“Then I want to go there too!”