16. Chapter 15
All she could do was toss and turn in bed. She’d fall asleep for a few minutes, only for a faceless someone to stare at her in her dreams. Or thousands of letters swirling around her, cutting at her skin. Or of Ezra. He was the last person she wanted to see in her head.
She flopped back against her pillow and messy strands of hair fell in front of her face.
When he found Callum’s ring last night…he didn’t look surprised to see it there.
It made no sense. Obviously they weren’t close, but anyone with a heart would’ve had some reaction.
By the time it was nine o’clock, Maeve was moving around out in the kitchen and living room.
But a few minutes later, their front door opened and closed. Off to get breakfast, probably.
Ivy dragged herself out of bed, yawning as she stretched her arms above her head.
Her priority was to shower and brush her teeth.
Her mouth was disgusting. All she did last night was strip off her clothes and crawl into bed after reading the letter still sitting on her desk.
She was too tired and emotionally drained to follow her usual bedtime routine.
After that, coffee and straight to the grand library.
The book cited in Briar’s essay could hold the key to the cipher and whatever message she hoped Ivy would find.
When she pushed open the heavy wooden doors to the café in Arcania Hall, freshly ground coffee and baked treats flooded her senses.
Soothing jazz music played over the speakers, below the chatter of students gathered inside.
Most were talking about the party last night, and as she waited in line, she eavesdropped to hear if Callum’s absence was noticed.
But she couldn’t pick out anything other than how drunk people were or the music and dull sound of the news playing from the TV in the corner.
She rolled her eyes to herself, slouching slightly as she gazed absent-mindedly around her.
Nearly every seat was taken, and the trees outside the back windows dappled shadows across their faces and the warmly painted walls.
When her focus shifted to the other side of the café, her shoulders tensed when she spotted Ezra in the back corner.
He sat by himself, a textbook and notebook splayed out in front of him.
She needed to be better at recognizing when he was around.
There was that weird pull inside her when she walked in, but she assumed it was because she was severely under-caffeinated.
Judging by the slight curl of his lips, he knew she was there too.
“Can I help who’s next?”
Ivy turned back and stepped up to the counter to order a simple flat white and a pumpkin cream cheese danish.
Within a few minutes, her order was ready.
Much to her surprise, Ezra remained at his table.
She grabbed her order from the counter, fully intending to leave to go to the library in Galraine.
But she sat in the chair opposite him instead.
He glanced up from his book, a brow quirked, and a sly grin appeared, showcasing the dimple in his cheek. There was a faint purplish color under his eyes, and stubble graced his jaw. “Morning.”
“Morning,” she said back softly. “You look terrible.”
He chuckled and fell back against his chair; the wood creaking under the movement. “Thanks.”
“We should talk about last night.”
His smile fell, and he leaned in closer, resting his elbows on the table. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“We both know that’s not true.” The brown paper bag holding her breakfast crinkled as she squeezed her hand into a fist, and she lowered her voice. “I saw your face when you found his ring. It was like you knew something was going to happen an—”
“Are you accusing me of something?” he asked, his jaw tensing.
She pulled back, his shift in mood giving her whiplash. “I don’t know,” Ivy said. “All I know is you didn’t look the way someone would if they found out their roommate had screamed out in the middle of the night.”
He tapped the back of his pen on the notebook. “Yeah, well, you weren’t very shocked either.”
She never told him who Briar was to her, though he could probably put two and two together. Why else would she have brought her name up? But that was assuming he used any of the brain cells he had floating in his head.
“Fine,” she said, pushing away from the table. “If you don’t want to talk, then we won’t.”
His face fell. Instead of coming back with an annoyingly witty retort to irritate her, he nodded.
Once. Then returned to his book. He flipped the page, continuing to ignore her presence.
Her magic thrashed inside her, as if it felt the rejection too.
She stood, letting the chair drag against the tile floor, and left the coffee shop.
Ivy finished her breakfast and coffee before she reached Galraine Hall, hoping it would calm her magic enough for her to concentrate on finding the book she needed.
Galraine was one of the larger school buildings on campus, spanning six floors with various classrooms, lecture halls, training rooms, and more.
The library itself spanned three floors in the back.
The ceiling, enchanted to match the sky outside, was bright blue and dappled with clouds and the morning sun.
Her hand brushed against the limestone walls as she strolled through the main hallway, and the cool stone sent shivers through her fingertips.
The ornately carved walnut doors leading to the library’s first floor came into view.
She hadn’t had the chance to see it for herself yet, but Maeve had raved for twenty minutes about every single detail.
But even that couldn’t have prepared her for what awaited her.
Countless rows of bookcases spanned the length of the room on the left and right of each floor.
There must be nearly a hundred thousand books shelved.
Two sets of stairs in the back led to the next floor, where the balcony had beautiful dark-wood railings and desks overlooking the ground level.
A smile stretched across her face as she gawked at her surroundings. “Wow.”
Where should she even start? She stepped farther inside, her steps echoing off the well cared-for hardwood floor—two-toned with walnut and oak in a weaving pattern.
Along the center of the first floor were long tables with emerald green lamps and six chairs to each one, with only a few students sitting at them.
At the back of the room was a circular desk with a few computers, several stacks of books, and a couple of people inside chatting while scanning and tapping away on the keyboards.
But she couldn’t miss the two gigantic stone doors, which seemed older than their surroundings, that lay behind them.
Above them was a huge silver placard reading “The Archives”.
Carved into the stone was the story of the creation of magic, in which light and dark were the only two forms of energy.
When they clashed, they created a new form called Arcana, giving birth to their powers.
Each arcane had a pool of that energy within them which deepened with practice and education, which often took over two decades.
Their magic energy was so intrinsically part of them that, if an arcane were separated from it…
well, it would be like tearing a soul in two.
Her throat tightened as her parent’s pictures in the attic flashed in her head.
She blinked rapidly, as if to push it away.
She couldn’t break down in the middle of the library.
But how many ancient texts did the academy hold down there in the archives? How many relics need to be safeguarded? Surely they didn’t let just anyone down there, though. She turned her attention away from the door and walked up to the librarian’s desk.
“Excuse me?”
One of the women looked up, her ringlet black curls bouncing with the sudden movement, and her warm brown eyes squinted as she smiled. “Hi! How can I help you?”
“Where could I find books on mycology and botany?” Ivy asked.
“Oh, that’s on the third floor to the right, rows ten through fourteen. If you get lost, a few of our staff are stocking the shelves, so you can always ask them!”
“Thank you.” Ivy moved around the desk toward the right-hand staircase next to the archive doors.
The higher she moved from the main floor, the quieter her surroundings became.
Daylight filtered in from the small windows on the far side of the bookcases, but it barely reached the center of the rows, leaving a sliver of the middle cloaked in shadow.
She reached the third level. Static thrummed against her eardrums as she wandered through the silent stacks.
Her fingers brushed over the old spines as she tried to locate the book she needed, letting her thoughts drift to how many of these books she would use for her own essays.
How many hours would she spend researching in these four stacks?
Would she use the same ones Briar had? She finally reached the letter “F” for the author’s last name halfway through row twelve.
“Funke, Funke, Funke,” she whispered as she searched through the books. “Fuller, Fulton, Fung, Fu—”
Between Fung and Furgeson was an empty slot.
She groaned. “Of course, why would it be right where I need it to be?”
A creak in the floor came from the opposite side of the bookcase. She peered through the empty slot, and spotted the edge of something black—like a hat or a sweatshirt, maybe.
“Hello?” Ivy asked quietly. Whoever was there said nothing. “Hello?” she called out again, louder. “If you work for the library, I could use your help locating a book?”
The floor creaked again, and the black fabric on the other side moved ever so slightly.
Ivy sighed, frustration seeping out of her. “Maybe you can’t hear me. I’ll come around.”