Chapter 10
What do we truly know about The Overshadowing? About the cause and the origin? How can we be sure it was caused by humans at all?
EXCERPT FROM TRITON COUNTY DEBATE
Bramble Tower wasn’t just home to the Unwoven—it also housed the Domestic team that kept Nightsbridge Academy functional.
I discovered as much when I walked into the sitting room to find the door to my bedroom open, sheets flying about on their own as they laid themselves on the bed and neatly tucked themselves in.
“Miss Onyx?”
I spun to face the young man standing in the sitting room doorway.
He wore a flat cap that made his ears stick out, and the cuffs of his button-down shirt left his bony wrists exposed.
His trousers were too short, leaving his patterned socks on display, but his shoes were clean and buffed to a shine.
“Me name’s Pip,” he said. “Head of Domestic. We’ll have yer room spic and span in no time. Uniforms have been ordered and will be with you by this evening, along with casual wear and undergarments.”
“Don’t you need my size?”
He gave me a once-over. “No worries, miss, I have a good eye for sizing.” He glanced over my shoulder into my room. “Wipe down the window, Mildred. I want no streaks.”
A cloth materialized from thin air and glided over the window in my room. “Ghosts?”
“We call ourselves Spectral Domestic Assistants—SDA for short.”
“We…? Are you—”
“Dead? A long time ago. Now, if you require anything—anything at all—you can ask for me at the SDA office on the second floor. There’s always someone on duty, whether you can see them or not.”
Wait a second. “You live in this tower? All of you…specters? Watching us whenever you want?”
The twinkle in his eyes died. “I assure you, madam, we do not spy. An SDA agent will always announce his presence.”
Shit, I’d offended him. “I’m sorry. This is all new to me.”
His face relaxed, and a hint of a smile returned. “Of course. Understandable. The second and third floors are our residences. Fourth and fifth are for the Unwoven. You’ll find ports on those levels. The rest of the tower, sixth floor upward, belongs to Master Vitra.”
Cold fingers of air brushed past me, and I sensed several presences.
“All done,” Pip said. “A late breakfast will be brought to you as you missed the official meal due to your meeting this morning. It will be left on your desk.”
Desk? There hadn’t been a desk in my room. I turned to look, and sure enough, there was now a desk pushed up against the wall on the windowless side of my room, along with a stack of books filed neatly in a small bookcase.
“Thanks. I—”
But the doorway where Pip had been standing was empty.
He and his specters were gone.
* * *
I leaned against the dresser positioned against the wall to the right of the door and took in the space that would be mine for the next few weeks.
The surfaces gleamed, and the air smelled like lemons.
A small double bed, facing the door, was dressed in fresh white sheets, with a dark blue comforter folded neatly at the bottom.
To my left, scented candles decorated the empty spots on my new bookcase, which stood beside the bathroom door.
My desk, snug between my bed and the window to its right, now housed notebooks, pens, and academic textbooks.
The titles were all in Latin, but I recognized a few from my studies with Mother.
Just because we don’t have access to our power doesn’t mean we can’t understand who we are by learning about the Arcanus…
God, I missed her.
But God was a human deity. The Arcanus worshipped the Trinity—the three daughters of the ancient gods, born to manage and protect the Weave of magic that spawned from the essence of all gods.
According to the Arcanus beliefs, gods didn’t die—they transformed into something else.
So the Weave, magic, everything we thrived on, came from the essence of gods.
I wasn’t sure I believed it, but maybe that was because I’d never been allowed to connect to it.
But Mother had believed, calling on the Trinity in times of need rather than the human God.
Not that they ever answered. I’d been careful not to call on the Trinity out loud, using the human God in my exclamations to help hide my identity as Arcanus.
But now that I was here among supernals that knew who I was, there was no longer a need to hide.
Someone knocked on the door. “One second!”
A breakfast tray rested on the ground. There was no sign of who’d left it. Probably a member of the SDA.
Back in my room, I ate at my desk, barely tasting anything.
The heightened sense of alert I’d been running on the past few weeks had dipped, and exhaustion had me in its snare.
I didn’t even have the energy to riddle over how Vitra seemed to be bypassing my curse.
How was it that his touch could evoke physical pleasure?
Was it this place? Was it messing with my curse somehow?
I stabbed my hand with my fork, drawing a little blood but feeling no pain.
The curse was still active. So what was happening?
Ugh. I needed sleep. The conundrum would have to wait.
Food done with, I stretched out on the crisp white sheets and passed out.
* * *
I woke to the whisper of a name that wasn’t mine.
“Selina? Is that you? Selina?”
“What the…” I forced my eyes open to gloom and shadow. The mirror on the dresser glinted oddly, then something moved across its surface.
My pulse spiked, and I sat bolt upright, heart hammering with that awful sensation of threat. But the moment passed.
The mirror was simply a mirror, the shadows a reflection of the clouds passing by my window. I slumped back against the pillows and stared at a crack in the ceiling until my pulse slowed.
How long had I slept? The clock on the bedside table answered that question.
I’d been out like a wick for six hours.
Ugh. I dragged myself out of bed and cracked open the window to let in some air. The frame creaked and groaned in protest where the wood was slightly swollen. What was that… Something etched into the wood? S.E. Initials? Probably belonged to the previous occupant of this room.
Ah, the cool air felt nice. I shoved the window wider and poked my head out.
The woods below were wreathed in mist that left only the canopy visible.
The quad was split into hexagonal sections, bordered by bushes and small hedges.
A pavilion stood to the right of the tower, partially obscured by more mist. The haze parted to reveal a woman, standing so still that if not for her silvery hair moving in the breeze, I would have mistaken her for a statue. What was she doing alone out there?
A knock sounded on my door.
I pulled the window closed and hurried to answer. “Coming!”
Clary waited on the other side, arms weighed down with bags.
She was dressed in the Nightsbridge uniform—black slim-fitting trousers and a mid-thigh blazer in a brown so dark it was almost black.
The blouse beneath was a deep mossy green.
It wasn’t the most appealing ensemble, but it looked comfortable.
“Your stuff is here.” She held up the bags. “The SDA must have dropped it off while you were sleeping and not wanted to disturb you.”
“You didn’t have a problem disturbing me.”
“Oh no, did I wake you?” She blinked sharply, lips parting, clearly horrified by the thought, and I instantly felt a pang of regret.
“No. I was already up. I’m glad you knocked.”
“Oh, good.” Her shoulders dropped in relief. “You want to take these?” She passed me the bags.
I carried them over to my unmade bed. Clothes, uniforms, casual outfits, PJs, and…undergarments. I checked the labels on the underwear, then the bras. My size. “What do you know, Pip can tell size just by looking.”
“What?” Clary asked from the threshold.
“You can come in, you know.”
“Oh…thanks.”
I pulled out the final set of clothes. Black breeches and a fitted tunic, knees and elbows padded with leather. “What’s this for?”
“Training clothes. You want help putting stuff away?”
There wasn’t much to put away, but if I was going to make fake friends, then… “Sure, that would be great.”
It took less than five minutes to shove the clothes in the dresser and hang up the uniforms.
“Oh, one second.” Clary ducked out, returning with a thick envelope. “Your admission paperwork. You’ll have a schedule in there too.”
“Fabulous.” I chucked it onto my bed.
Clary’s gaze flicked from the envelope back to me. “Aren’t you going to check it?”
Damn, I was rusty with this whole buddy-making malarkey. “Sure…” I ripped it open and tipped out the contents. Paperwork…whoop-de-doo.
“That’s the schedule.” Clary pointed at a cream sheet of paper. “Ooh, you have Combat 101 with us next week.”
“Isn’t that a beginner’s class?”
“Kinda, but when you’re Unwoven, you have to retake them—basically as punching bags for the other students.” She shrugged. “It’s not too bad. Most of the students don’t even know how to land a punch.”
“Sounds wonderful.”
My dry tone had her chuckling. “It can be fun. The younger students are all in awe of us more advanced ones, and being Unwoven gives us an edge of danger.” Her eyes lit up.
“We’ve been encouraging speculation about our crimes.
Some of the theories are wild. You’ll need to pass the class, though, because essentially, you’re a beginner. ”
“I took defense classes for years. I can handle myself.”
She gave me an indulgent smile. “It’s all about the offense here and weapon use. You’ll need to learn how to wield swords and daggers.”
I scanned the rest of the schedule. There wasn’t anything on my rota for this week aside from History of Nightsbridge, but we're coming to the end of the week, so that made sense.
Next week I had Combat 101, more History of Nightsbridge, and Horror 101, along with counseling.
The next four weeks were variations of the same until something marked grading.
“What’s grading?”
“That’s the culmination of Combat 101.”
“Like an exam?”
“Yes. You need to pass to move to Advanced Combat—and be eligible for the hunt.” Her eyes lit up. “Hunters are respected highly here.”
“And if I fail?”
“You could retake it or accept a post in another role like ward keepers, border watchers, domestic…” She winced.
The roles she mentioned would be safer and allow me to work on finding the Libra Veritas, but I got the impression that being on the hunt came with status, which would open doors.
Failure was not an option. “What about these counseling slots? I don’t need those.”
“Sorry, but those are mandatory. Life can be isolating here—surrounded by death. Miss Snap is amazing, though. You’ll love her.”
The last thing I wanted to do was lie on a couch and talk about my feelings, but if I had to, then I’d make some shit up.
“Hellooo!” Dori called out from the sitting room. “I heard that we have a new admission.” She popped her head around the door. “I see the SDA kitted you out. Wait…are those scented candles?”
“Yeah.”
She pouted. “I didn’t get any scented candles.”
“You can have them.”
“Really?” She was already across the room gathering them up.
A shadow washed over the room as a massive bird landed on the windowsill.
I jumped, bumping into Clary, who put her arm around me. “It’s okay,” she said. “It’s just a raven.” She hurried over and slid the window open. “Hi.” She beamed at the bird. “You have a message?”
The raven dipped its head and fixed its beady eyes on me.
“Message for Onyx from Heidi Embercrest,” it said in a croaky voice, then…
“Good afternoon, Miss Onyx.” Heidi’s voice drifted from the raven’s beak.
“I will escort you to your meeting with the Weave Watchers tomorrow. Meet me in Trinity Hall at nine a.m. sharp—do not eat breakfast beforehand.” The raven cawed.
“Would you like me to repeat the message?”
“No thanks.” Once was creepy enough.
The raven flew off, and I crossed the room to close the window.
“You’re seeing the Weave Watchers?” Dori asked.
“Yeah, apparently they need to figure out how to remove the block on my power.” They watched me, looking slightly paler than usual, if I wasn’t mistaken. “Okay, what is it now?”
Clary answered, eyebrows pinching in a frown. “The Weave Watchers are the boogeymen of Nightsbridge, said to be more dangerous than a Horror and more powerful than any coven or Arcanus bloodline. There are stories of students being sent to see them but never returning.”
“Not just any students,” Dori jumped in. “Students who prove to be dangerous. Who can’t control their power, who cause consistent harm—who prove to be unworthy of it.”
“Yeah, well, I haven’t committed any crimes or caused any harm, and I haven’t had a chance to demonstrate how worthy I am because I haven’t had access to my power.”
“Good point.” Clary’s frown cleared. “But this means you’ll be able to tell us what they’re like and what it’s like down in the catacombs.”
“Claustrophobic, no doubt,” Dori said with a shudder.
My stomach growled. “I need food.”
“Just as well that it’s suppertime,” Dori said. “Time to introduce you to the food pit.”
“Aren’t meals in the Main Building?”
“Yep,” Dori said.
I glanced out into the night. “I don’t much fancy climbing up the side of the mountain in the dark. Once today was enough. Can’t we get food somewhere else?” They both stared at me in confusion, eyebrows furrowed, heads tipped to one side. “What?”
“Polina took you up the mountain trail?” Clary asked.
Dori’s mouth tightened. “That bitch.”
Realization dawned. “There’s another way up, isn’t there?”
“Yeah, there is,” Dori replied. “A lift up the side of the mountain. The footpath is only for emergencies, like if a storm knocks out the magi-generator tower or something.”
Now it made sense why no one else had been on the path when so many had crossed the bridge with us. Why hadn’t I picked up on that at the time? Oh yes, because I’d been too busy trying to stay alive.
“I’m sorry,” Clary said softly.
I blinked and fixed a smile on my face. “It’s fine. I’m used to it, but this…” I pointed between the two of them. “Arcanus being nice to me? That I am not used to.” I narrowed my eyes, injecting a playful tone into my voice before asking a very real question. “What do you both want from me?”
Clary balked, but Dori rolled her eyes.
“I told you she’d think we were playing her,” Dori said to Clary.
“We’re not,” Clary said. “Honest.”
“We’re just not assholes—unlike some of the people you’ve met.”
Everyone had an agenda, even if they didn’t consciously know it, but I needed these women on my side if I was going to survive—and get to the book.
“We just want to be friends,” Clary said.
Friends…that loaded word again. “Fine. Okay. Friends, it is.” I grabbed my coat. “Let’s go get some food.”