Chapter 29 #2
The bastard expected me to fail in front of the whole Academy, and right now, with my connection to the Weave still blocked, it was highly likely that he’d get his wish. A sinking feeling bloomed in my stomach as I considered my chances.
“Class dismissed!” Sterling said.
He strode off, coat flapping around his calves, silvery hair rippling in the breeze, head held high like the fucker truly believed he was better than me. Better than us all.
The group dispersed, chattering eagerly among themselves. All except Tyler, who made it a point to lock eyes with me and drag a finger across his throat. Again. Seriously, the idiot needed to get some new material.
“Do you have a problem, Tyler?” Drayven asked, his tone low and edged with warning.
Tyler blinked sharply. “No.”
“Good, then get the fuck out of here.”
Tyler jogged off to catch up with his friends.
“I don’t like this,” Clary muttered.
“Me neither,” Drayven said. “I tried to reason with the administration, reminded them that the Restoration Ceremony isn’t until the weekend, but they were not receptive.”
Hardly surprising. “They don’t want me here. This way, they get to shove me into domestic and forget about me.”
“You are not going into Domestic,” Dori said. “We’ll train with you. All day if we have to.”
“No,” Drayven said. “Ana will train with me. The grading will take place at sunset and go on till midnight. We’ll train on the nights leading up to it.
Meet me at the entrance to the gardens at sunset tonight.
Dress in your training gear.” The corner of his mouth curled up in a cold smile, an expression I hadn’t seen on his face yet.
“If Sterling thinks he can sabotage your chances of making the grade, he’s sorely mistaken. ”
* * *
“The Grand Library is a masterpiece of architecture,” Clary explained as we entered the vast chamber.
I stopped to take it all in. Rosewood bookshelves climbed up to meet a ceiling so high it was hidden behind thick beams. A central staircase swept up and split into two balconies that spanned the circumference of the room.
Smaller staircases branched off various points along the wraparound balcony, leading to a third level which was shrouded in shadows.
But that wasn’t the marvel here, oh no. There were entire bookcases hidden in the walls that could be drawn out with a lever mechanism and then locked into place.
Rotating shelves were built into thick stone pillars that jutted up to meet a framework of rosewood beams. Beams that acted as walkways for students crossing the chamber.
I pointed up at the wooden bridges and whispered, “That’s chaos.”
Clary grinned, clearly pleased that I was picking up on the language used here. “It is. But it’s for Advanced Academia students only.” She peered up into the shadows with a wistful expression. “Once my power is restored, I’m taking the entrance exam.”
“Wait, I thought you were qualified as a Hunter.”
“I am, but hunting and Advanced Academia are two separate tracks. You can either work at being a Gold Stripe Hunter, or if you show promise academically, you can go on to the Advanced Academia program—which leads to working either in Border and Ward Management, teaching, or becoming a Carver.”
“Wait…do you want to be a Carver?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I just know that I don’t want to hunt.”
I toyed with sharing my plan to become a Carver with her, but decided against it for now.
I’d reveal it after the Restoration Ceremony.
The Unwoven knew about my stint with the CCC, and I’d shown Clary my journal and all my sketches.
There was no reason for anyone to suspect an ulterior motive in my decision to become a Carver, but the thought of revealing it made me uneasy.
A petite woman in a calf-length green dress and round silver-framed spectacles materialized beside us, making me jump. “Can I help you with anything, my dears?” She stood with her hands clasped in front of her.
“No, thank you, Mistress Smithers.” Clary beamed at her. “I know where to find everything.”
“Of course, you do.” Her bright eyes found me. “A new student. How wonderful.”
“This is Anamaya,” Clary said to her, then turned to me, “Mistress Smithers is the head librarian.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Mistress Smithers said. “I’m here to help if you—” Her chin jerked up. “Excuse me. I must go. Someone is eating on the premises.” She hurried away.
“Smithers is a stickler for the no food and drink rule,” Clary said. “Come on, this way.” She beckoned me to follow, then hurried past the main staircase and into the aisles beyond.
It was my first time in this room, but it probably wouldn’t be my last if the reading lists for study here were anything to go by.
Arcane Botany by Alberta Evergreen was on my reading list for next month’s new schedule. It was required reading for the Arcane Herbology class with Portia Reign.
The thought of having to work with her triggered my gag reflex.
No doubt she’d be a bitch to me, that’s the kind of person she was, so I wasn’t going to give her any ammunition by showing up unprepared for class.
I’d do the reading and write the essays, whatever it took to pass with the grades I needed to join the Carvers.
Still, I couldn’t fathom how someone like Portia could be related to someone like Kian. My stepbrother had been kind to me. A friend when I’d had none. He’d promised to come back for me when Daniel had forced him to leave.
He’d promised.
But he’d never returned.
I tried to hate him for a while, but the hate never stuck. Deep down, I knew that if he could have come back, he would have. Something had kept him away, and maybe one day I’d find out what.
“Here we are!” Clary dove into the book-lined shelves, index card held aloft like a dowsing stick.
I followed her down the sunlit aisle, where the air swam with golden dust motes and smelled of leather and parchment. Something in the back of my mind stirred. A sense of familiarity. I’d been here before. Right here, in this very spot.
There was something here… Something I needed to see.
Clary called my name, but her voice was a distant whisper, buried under the rushing of blood in my head as I reached for a slender green spine nestled between dark red ones. The classification numbers…I knew those numbers.
This book had been hidden here by…someone. A sharp throb lanced through my temple, and a memory hit me. I was standing here. Afraid. Someone was coming. I had to hide the book and then…the hooded figure.
I had to run.
I needed to run—
“Ana?”
The memory faded. But it wasn’t a memory.
“I think… I think I remember part of my dream.” I slipped the book off the shelf and flipped it open to find rows of neat handwriting.
Not a textbook. “This book was in my dreams.” I looked up and met her stunned gaze.
“I think you were right, Clary. I don’t think my dreams are normal dreams. I think they’re some kind of message. ”
* * *
“The name Selina Evergreen doesn’t ring a bell,” Dori said.
“Same,” Benedict said. “But she’s an Evergreen. One of the main bloodlines in the Evergreen Coven.”
We huddled around the coffee table in our tower’s sitting room. The journal opened between us.
“It must be old,” Clary said. “There are no actual Evergreens that go here. Not that I’m aware of.”
There were no year markings in the book, just month and day, which didn’t help us in identifying when Selina had been here.
The journal started out as an account of papers she had to write and books she needed to read.
A few notes here and there about how homesick she felt, and how she wished she hadn’t been chosen as the sacrificial lamb for her family.
Then there was a month’s gap, and the next entry was penned in an angry scrawl.
I didn’t do it. It wasn’t me but they don’t believe me, and now I’m stuck in Bramble Tower for a whole month. Alone. I hate this place. I hate them all.
“She was Unwoven?” Clary asked.
I flipped the page. “Seems like it. Listen… ‘They’re all ignoring me. Like some kind of freeze-out. Even the teachers. What is this shit? I don’t deserve this…’
“Then this… ‘I can’t take it anymore. I’m so lonely.
’” I turned through pages filled with doodles until I reached the next passage, gooseflesh breaking out over my skin.
“’Bramble is the best thing that’s happened to me because of him.
I’m staying here even after the Restoration Ceremony.
It’s crazy, or maybe I’m crazy, but I don’t care.
He’s wonderful. I think I’ve finally found a friend.
All I need to do is get him out, and he can help me.
But I must act fast before they find out. ’”
“What is she talking about?” Benedict asked.
“I don’t know.” I read the next entry. “’I’ve been dreaming about a hooded figure every night.
I wake up soaked in sweat. He says that it means they’re close.
That they’re almost ready to come for me.
But I’m almost ready, too. If only I didn’t have to do this alone. I’m scared. I’m so fucking scared.’”
“Go on,” Dori urged.
But there was no more. “The rest is blank.”
“What happened to her?” Benedict asked.
I closed the book. “I don’t know, but I plan to find out. Is there a record with all the past students’ names on it?”
“Annual Student Records for the past ten years are kept in the library,” Clary said. “Anything older is in the vault.”
“Okay, so we check the ASR’s first, and if we have no luck, we speak to some of the teachers. They’ve been here a while, someone should remember her, right? I mean, she was Unwoven. There must be a record of those students.”
“I don’t have classes until the afternoon,” Clary said. “I can start looking through the books in the morning.”
“I’ll help,” Benedict said.
“But that’s your caffeination time,” Clary reminded him.
“I’ll take a travel cup to the library.”
“Smithers doesn’t allow food and drink,” Dori pointed out.
“She does for me.” Benedict winked. “I’m her favorite.”
Dori rolled her eyes. “Only you would dare flirt with a hag.”
I’d seen Smithers. She was old, but sweet-looking, hardly a hag. “That’s a little harsh.”
Clary snort-laughed. “No, Smithers is an actual hag.” She sobered when she caught the blank look on my face.
“But I don’t suppose you know what that is.
She’s a caster, but she uses blood, bone, and flesh in her spells.
She’s one of a kind, and rumor has it she came here from another world during The Overshadowing. ”
“And that form you see,” Dori said. “That is not what she truly looks like.”
“What does she look like?”
“No one knows…” Dori intoned, drawing out the words in an eerie whisper.
“Because there is no other form,” Benedict said. “And this hag business is just a rumor started by some students a decade or so ago.”
“Yeah? And how old is she?” Clary asked.
“You don’t ask a lady her age,” Benedict said primly.
Clary laughed.
We were getting off track. “Back to Selina’s book.”
“Who?” they said in unison.
“Selina Evergreen.” I tapped the journal.
“Oh yeah,” Clary said. “First thing tomorrow.”
Finding out who Selina was would be the first step in understanding why I dreamed about her. What was the connection between us? It had to be more than the fact she’d been allocated a room in Bramble.
Wait…if she’d been in Bramble, then Vitra was bound to have known her. I made a mental note to ask him after class tomorrow.
I tucked the journal into my bag. It was almost sunset, and I had a meeting with a barghest.