Chapter 19 #2
Shit. “I’m sorry. I’m new. I got lost.” I hurried toward him, an apologetic smile on my face.
Up close, the man looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties, his hard, blocky features further accentuated by a buzz cut. The dark blue overalls he wore set him apart from the teachers here. Could this be Master Trax, the man who took care of the Main Building?
He jerked his chin up and looked down his nose at me. “Onyx, right?”
“News sure travels fast around here.”
He pressed his lips together, nostrils flaring. “Hmmm. I’m Master Trax, grounds watchman, and this area is restricted.”
“Oh?” I plastered an innocent look on my face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“Hmmm…” He looked over my head and down the dark hall. “You'd best get going to class.”
“I don’t have class. I was exploring.”
He dropped his gaze to me, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Explore somewhere else.”
“Right.” I ducked around him. “I’ll be off then.”
I walked quickly toward the light and glanced back once I reached the intersection.
Trax was gone.
* * *
I spent the next half hour retracing my steps to familiarize myself with the overall layout of the building. The place was a maze, and it would take more than a morning of exploration to memorize the many paths, nooks, and alcoves of this place.
I found a window seat on the first floor, close to the dining hall, and killed an hour sketching the long-limbed, eerie Echoes that had attacked me my first day here.
The blank faces, the thin fingers with too many joints—all of it went onto paper.
These faceless creatures could morph into any person they wanted to.
Change form at will… Wait, there was a critter that could do that, too.
I flipped pages until I found the one I was looking for.
The Chamaeleontis Vermis, the chameleon worm.
It couldn’t make itself look like another insect completely, but it could change color and texture to mimic aspects of other insects and critters.
Was there a connection there? I was probably reaching, but I made a note beside my Echo sketch anyway.
I was about to start on a sketch of the mudark when the corridors erupted with the sound of bootfalls and chatter.
Looked like classes were over.
I tucked my journal into my pack and left my cozy spot to head to the dining hall. It was closed, but the Unwoven probably didn’t know that and would be headed there like all the other students.
I hoisted my pack onto my shoulders and joined the flood of bodies.
* * *
The storm broke just after lunch. Rain hammered at the windows, falling in sheets that blurred the outside world.
“Looks like classes are canceled for the rest of the day,” Clary said, flopping down on the sofa, paperback in hand.
I settled in one of the armchairs and tucked my feet beneath me. “Because of the weather?”
“Storms mean no port travel,” Dori said from her spot by the hearth. She teased the flames with an iron poker, nudging the fire to burn brighter. “Storms tend to mess with the ports.”
Benedict stretched and yawned. “I might take a nap.” He wriggled, getting comfortable in the larger armchair, and closed his eyes.
A languid silence settled over us. Dori stretched out on the rug by the fire, arms behind her head, and Benedict’s breathing slowed and deepened as he drifted off.
I considered getting up to grab my journal, but moving felt like too much of an effort. I peered across at Clary, trying to catch the title of her book. Her gaze shifted off the page and to me.
“Tower of Midnight by Delila Trust,” she said. “It’s my comfort read. Have you read it?”
“I’m not much of a fiction reader.”
“We should do something,” Dori said.
“Oh, I know,” Clary said. “We could do face masks. I made a mixture that will cleanse and brighten our skin.”
“No,” Benedict mumbled. “Sleeping.”
Dori sat up. “I’m in, and you should be too, Benedict. Your skin’s been looking a little dry.”
His eyes snapped open. “Excuse me? I have excellent skin.”
“There’s always room for improvement,” Clary said. “Ana, you in?”
I wasn’t too sure I wanted to put on a face mask, but Clary looked so excited I didn’t have the heart to turn her down. “Sure. I could do with a little pampering.”
“Ooh, we should dye our nails too!” Dori pulled herself to her feet. “I’ll get my dyes.”
The women hurried to their respective rooms.
Benedict groaned, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. “It never stops at masks and nail dye, you know.”
“No?”
“Last time, they made up my whole face—lip stain, rouge, eye powder, the lot.”
“Nice to see a man who’s comfortable enough in his skin to allow that.”
He gave me a sheepish smile. “I was asleep at the time.”
Dori and Clary returned, carrying boxes and bags.
“See,” Benedict said to me before turning to the women. “Anamaya says she’d like you to make her up.”
Dori’s eyes lit up like beacons of hope, and dread pooled in my belly.
“Wait. I didn’t—”
“No.” Dori held up her hand. “You can’t take it back. This is happening.”
Benedict snickered, and I shot him a glare.
“You can look glamorous for your first trip to Coral Isle tonight,” Dori said. “Providing the storm stops.”
“You’re going to look beautiful,” Clary added.
I had no intention of leaving the tower with a made-up face, but I could burst their bubble later.
I sat back in my seat with a sigh. “Fine. Let’s do this.”
* * *
I studied my made-up face in the bathroom mirror. Smudgy dark eyes, pouty berry lips, and contoured cheeks. I looked like a stranger. A stunning stranger.
Dori had done a great job, but my skin felt stiff and itchy.
I gathered my hair into a knot, then washed my face clean. Cards was next on the menu, and I was already socially drained, but I’d be lying if I said I hated spending time with the trio.
I exited the bathroom to a flash of bright light, followed by a deep rumbling.
“Ana!” Clary popped her head around my door. “Come, quick. You have to see this.”
She ushered me into Dori’s room, a haven of knitted throws and scented candles. Dori and Benedict stood at the window, beckoning me to join them, moving aside so I could look out.
Dori’s room afforded a view of the inlet and the landmass housing the Main Building. “Okay, what are we looking at?”
“Just watch,” Benedict said.
Lightning lanced from the sky and shot toward the Main Building, latching onto a tall rod projecting from a southern tower turret. The building lit up bright for a moment, each dark window screaming into the night as the rod held the lightning in its grip for long seconds.
My breath snagged in my throat at the raw power of this moment. The lightning broke free, and I imagined I heard the snap and sizzle of its escape. The Main Building fell into darkness once more.
We waited long seconds and the sky lit up again, another bolt, another connection with the rod.
“It’s amazing, right?” Benedict said. “I always wonder what it would feel like to be inside the building or on the grounds. The sheer power being harnessed right now…”
Chester had mentioned the steeple that conducted lightning. “What do they do with the power?”
“Reserves, I think,” Dori said. “Who knows. We have magi-generators, so maybe they use the power in conjunction with those somehow.”
Or maybe it was used for some other purpose…
We stayed to watch the lightning for a little longer. The companiable silence settling around me like a hug.
“Looks like Coral Isle is definitely off the agenda for tonight,” Benedict said. “Might be off the agenda all weekend. Storms like this won’t pass quickly.”
“We’ll just have to make our own fun,” Clary said with a little too much enthusiasm.
I stifled a groan. It was going to be a long weekend.