Chapter 14
Not all Horrors must be extinguished, for there are those that can be tamed.
ANONYMOUS
Dori insisted on walking me to Trinity the next morning—a walk that took almost half an hour, driving home just how large the Nightsbridge campus was. We passed the barracks, a sprawling structure with a central tower, spokes jutting off it and connecting to two smaller towers.
“The Phage and Thrope Hunter teams have separate sleeping quarters,” Dori explained.
Figures dressed in the Hunter garb of black on black moved about at the base of the main tower, probably heading to the training grounds behind it. There was a garden somewhere back there, too. I had a mental schematic now, thanks to the map in my admissions pack.
The location of the library housing the Libra Veritas wasn’t on the map—because that would have been too easy. It was clearly a secret library—hidden, forbidden, or both.
I’d find it, though. In time. “What about the Arcanus Hunters? Where do they sleep?”
“They bunk with whichever team they happen to be on.”
“How many Hunters do we have here?”
“Most everyone above the age of eighteen is a Hunter, but there are thirty active Hunters at any time, living in the barracks. The teams cycle every year to give everyone a respite, and the non-active Hunters get the option to leave Nightsbridge for a few months. When they return, if they’re not a seasoned Hunter, they’ll take classes and prep to go back on active duty. ”
Smart to keep the teams fresh and revitalized. “And how long does it take to become seasoned?” Not that I cared, but she’d expect me to ask questions and be interested.
“It’s not about time served, it’s about kills. More than twenty-five kills and you’re a Gold Stripe and officially seasoned. Five kills make you a Brown Stripe, and ten gets you a Silver Stripe.”
“So you can come here and shoot straight up to seasoned status over another Hunter just by getting more kills? No real experience or time on the job required?”
She chuckled. “Making plans, are we?”
“Hardly, just… It seems unfair.”
“Kills are everything here,” Dori said.
“Oh? And how many do you have?”
“One.” Her eyes darkened, and she shook her head. “I’m more of a backup gal. But Sterling Damascus…he’s a different story.”
His name set my teeth on edge. “Really?”
“He wasn’t sent here at sixteen like the rest of us.
Got here a year ago. That should give you something in common.
” She had no idea how much we had in common.
I gave her a close-lipped smile, and she continued.
“Anyway, he flew through classes, aced his grading and combat trials, and made the active Hunter unit within three months. Two months later, he had his twenty-fifth kill, and bam, he’s now in charge of the Phage unit.
Caused some disruption from what I’ve heard. ”
What had the perfect little blood blade done to get sentenced to Nightsbridge? I should feel satisfaction that his freedom had been taken, but it wasn’t enough. Not for what he’d done.
“Have you worked with him?”
“No. I’m assigned to the Thrope unit.”
“Drayven’s unit?”
“Yeah. The guy is terrifying—and a hardass.”
I hadn’t found him terrifying. “He seemed okay to me.”
Her brows shot up. “Are we talking about the same Thrope?”
“Unless there’s another Drayven here.”
“No, just the one.”
We continued in silence for a minute, in which I gathered the courage to ask the question that had been burning a hole in my mind since I’d woken up this morning. “Are you okay, Dori? The Tamina thing…did the tincture to put her to sleep work?”
“I’m fine. Everything was fine,” she said quickly. “Oh look, here we are. Trinity Tower.”
Dammit. She obviously didn’t want to discuss it, which meant things hadn’t gone to plan. My gut twisted as I warred with keeping my mouth shut or pushing. Fuck it. “Dori, I’m so sorry, I—”
“Don’t.” Dori gripped my hand. “Please. It’s fine. Being with Tamina is never awful, I just… I know she’s not good for me. I don’t like her, but…”
Comprehension dawned. “You like the way she makes you feel.”
Her cheeks reddened. “Can we agree not to talk about this again?”
“Sure.”
We approached Trinity Tower in silence. It was a beast of a building, comprised of a blue and gray central tower with shuttered windows. Passages jutted off it to connect to three smaller towers.
Dori’s chin lifted in pride, a slight smile curled her lips as she drank it in. Pride and nostalgia.
I nudged her with my shoulder. “Hey, you’ll be back here soon enough.”
“Yeah, not sure how welcome I’ll be, though.”
“So you tried to incite a revolution. Big deal.”
She laughed. “If only Arcanus didn’t walk around with sticks up their asses, eh?”
The door to the main tower opened, and two women and a man stepped out.
“Speaking of sticks up asses,” Dori muttered, her expression darkening.
“Embercrest,” the guy said. “Don’t tell me your sentence is over already.”
“I won’t,” Dori said.
“Then why are you here?” one of the women asked. Her gaze flicked to me. “There is no way she’s coming inside.”
“She’s been invited here by Heidi, so back off.”
“I didn’t get a memo,” the other woman said. “And as prima incantor, I would have been informed.”
Dori’s lips pinched. “I see you got what you wanted, then, Viola.”
Viola smiled and shrugged. “Don’t I always?” She slid a glance up at the guy, who quickly looked away.
Undertones and tension thickened the air. “Well, if you’re done blocking the doorway, I have an appointment to get to.” I strode toward them, expecting them to move, but they held their ground. “Seriously?”
“I need to see some evidence of this appointment,” Viola said.
“It came by raven,” Dori bit out.
“Shame,” Viola said. “I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
“Since when do prima duties extend to monitoring the tower entrance?”
“Since we had a change in coven management,” Viola said. “The other primas and I have agreed on it. No outsiders without a pass.”
The bitch was clearly on some kind of power trip, and the only way to deal with someone like her was to give her what she wanted—with a side of repercussion of course.
I crossed my arms and shrugged. “Fine, I’ll just wait right here. The poor new student with no family, simply trying to fit in while fighting prejudice from the very leaders that are supposed to be setting an example.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You are supposed to be setting an example, right? For the younger incantors and sorcerers inside?” I indicated the tower. “Isn’t that what people in authority do?” I looked to Dori wide-eyed. “Isn’t that part of what a prima incantor is meant to do?”
“Totally,” Dori said, biting back a smile.
I nodded slowly. “I thought so. And I’m sure Heidi will come looking for me soon enough and be interested to know why I’m standing out here, teary-eyed and flustered.
” I blinked a few times, summoning tears.
“And when she asks, I’ll be sure to tell her about your policy and how you called me a filthy, dirty, Onyx bitch. ”
Viola stared at me wide-eyed.
“She won’t believe that,” the other woman snapped.
I allowed my eyes to fill with tears, then blinked, releasing fat droplets down my cheek.
Viola swallowed hard.
“You’re chaos,” the man said in a tone that was more awe than disgust.
I beamed up at him through my tears. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
“This is a waste of time,” Viola said. “You’re a waste of my time.” She lifted her chin. “Enjoy your short visit. Come on, Tristian.” She grabbed the man’s arm and yanked him aside. “Freak.” She spat the word at me as if it were a weapon.
I blew her a kiss as I walked through the door into a small redbrick entranceway.
A second door opened into a cozy room lined with bookshelves and dotted with a variety of seating, ranging from armchairs to stools.
A fire burned low in the hearth at the back of the room, barely embers now, and a staircase wound up to the first-floor balcony overlooking the sitting room and library area.
“Wow,” Dori said. “That was…wow…” A slight frown marred her forehead, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what she was thinking.
That if I could act that well, summon tears on demand, then could I be trusted?
I needed her to trust me, and that meant giving her a crumb of the truth.
“Look, life was hard for me out there, so I learned how to cope the best I could, and putting on a front was my strongest defense. Attack them before they can attack you.”
She was silent for several beats, mulling over my words.
“You don’t have to be that way anymore, though.
You have me, Clary, and Benedict now. You never have to pretend with us.
” She cupped my shoulder and squeezed. The bubble returned to my chest, inflating, and making it a little hard to breathe.
Her words were sweet, but I’d heard sweet words before.
Words followed by a long visit to the hollow pit of betrayal.
I plastered a smile on my face, forcing it to reach my eyes. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”
A crow circled the tower above us before diving out of sight, and a moment later, a tabby cat padded down the steps, caught sight of us, then bolted back up again.
“Good, Libby has spotted us,” Dori said. “Which means that Heidi will be down soon.”
“Libby?”
“The cat. She’s Heidi’s familiar. The crow belongs to Arthur Mort. He helps run the tower with my aunt and Portia Reign. Poor guy’s the buffer between those two.”
A necessary one if the dynamic between them at my Perculiari Petitione was anything to go by. “What’s your familiar?”
Her expression softened. “His name is Mr. Twiggins. He’s a cat, stodgy old fellow with a superiority complex, but I love him.”
I’d learned about familiars. Spiritual entities that took the form of animals, bonded to an incantor, able to communicate with their bonded telepathically or out loud.
A familiar provided insight and protection, along with a connection to the spiritual realm—a gateway to the Weave.
At puberty, incantors went through a ritual to summon a familiar, as their power was limited without one.
Sorcerers, however, didn’t have familiars.
Our direct connection to the Weave meant that all we required was a focus.
Not even the Onyx bloodline, riddled with incantors, had ever produced an Arcanus who’d required a familiar.
Other bloodlines and species that had joined with ours had always been overshadowed by the Onyx genes.
My family’s connection to the Weave had been strong once.
The sharp clip of heels signaled Heidi’s arrival. Libby, her familiar, trotted along beside her, wide gray eyes assessing us as her mistress made her way down the stairs.
Today, the Tower Master was dressed in a buff-colored calf-length wool skirt, cream blouse, and chocolate waistcoat that emphasized her athletic form.
It was obvious that she did some kind of physical training.
Her hair was down, golden locks sitting about her shoulders in gentle waves, softening the harsh planes of her striking face.
She stopped on the second-to-last step, clasped her hands in front of her, and peered down at us.
“Good. You’re punctual. You may go now, Dori. I’ll make sure Miss Onyx gets to class on time.”
Dori’s shoulders dropped. “Yes, Aunt. I’ll meet you in the lunch hall after morning classes, Ana.” She slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind her.
What was the deal with those two? It didn’t matter, but I made a mental note to ask Dori about it anyway. After all, it’s what a real friend would do, and I needed to maintain the facade of being one.
“Well,” Heidi said. “Are you ready?”
Ready to go into the catacombs where students reportedly never return from? “Do I have a choice?”
“No.”
“In that case, I’m ready.”
She crossed the room to the hearth, but Libby remained at the foot of the stairs. “Solaris, I beseech thee, guardian of the flame, arise.” She muttered something else I didn’t catch, words that were rough and guttural.
The embers glowed bright, flames erupting upward and deepening to a vibrant orange before turning purple.
A voice made from the crackle and pop of flame eating wood filled the room. “Embercrest, you call my name, and I answer.”
“I require passage for myself and one other.”
“You are expected, and so is the one who follows. Therefore, you may pass.”
The flames flared, the deep purple fading to a lilac shade.
Heidi beckoned. “Come, we must hold hands to pass.”
I eyed the flames. “Through the fire?”
“Yes. Solaris is the gatekeeper of the catacombs. The only way in is through him.”
I’d heard stranger things. I took her hand, and together we stepped into the purple flames.
Darkness stole my vision. When it returned, we stood in an underground chamber lit by wall sconces. Several passages veered off from the chamber, each one pitch black and forbidding.
Heidi released my hand. “This is the antechamber,” she explained. “Every entrance from above leads here.”
“There is more than one entrance in Trinity?”
“Solaris is the flame in every hearth, so every hearth is a gateway, if he allows it to be.”
“Okay, so we’re here. Now what?”
“Now, we wait. No one is permitted to go farther than this room. The catacombs are ever-shifting; only the Weave Watchers can navigate them.”
Images of scuttling, burrowing creatures filled my mind, along with a reminder that no student who’d seen these Weave Watchers had returned to tell the tale. “What are they? The Weave Watchers?”
She shook her head slightly, her gaze flicking from tunnel to tunnel in a way that made me more nervous than I already was. The way she stiffened, the tension in her jaw—everything about her body language screamed fear.
“Heidi? Hey?”
She licked her lips and shook her head once more.
“No one knows for sure. They simply…are. But we know what they do. They protect the sanctity of the Weave and act as intermediaries between the mortal realm and the Trinity, so…” She trailed off, head tilting to one side, listening to the silence. “They’re coming.”
I felt it then, the strange shift in atmosphere. The air thinned, charged with an unnatural energy that pricked at my skin, and goose bumps crawled up my arms.
The primal instinct to run rushed through me, but I locked my knees and swallowed past the sudden dryness in my throat. “Where… Where are—”
The lights went out, and when they flashed back on, we were no longer alone in the chamber.