52. Chapter 51
The others took it better than Ezra had when she told them about her brother.
Maeve had no luck getting into the archives yet, but Ivy planned to go to the library after she finished at the lab today to try some of her own digging in the stacks.
She made sure to pay extra attention to the stock and mentally note any that seemed out of place or anything hiding in the back room.
She was always thorough. There was nothing she hadn’t already unturned, and only the sweet enfantium was in low stock—which wasn’t unusual.
She placed the inventory sheet on Abbott’s desk and moved across the room to pick up the dirty equipment. When she reached the farthest table that had the most on it, she paused. In the center of all the used flasks and beakers was one that had a shimmering pink liquid at the bottom.
She peeked over her shoulder. Abbott had her entire focus on the book in front of her and was taking notes.
She turned her attention back to the flask and picked it up, then grabbed one of the small, dirty vials nearby.
She poured whatever the liquid was into the vial before bringing it to her nose to smell it.
And beneath the sticky-sweetness was a strong floral scent.
Similar to when she smelled the glass at the party.
She thought it had been rose before, maybe it was something else.
She brought it closer to her nose, trying to deduce what it was, but as she took another sniff, the floral overwhelmed her and she coughed loudly.
She turned around, and both Abbott and Liam were staring at her. “Sorry, swallowed wrong.” The professor returned to her book, but before Liam could shift his focus back to his task, she nodded him over as she capped the vial and slipped it into her pants front pocket.
“Let me help you with those,” he said, leaving his seat and crossing the room. Once he reached her, he leaned in closer to her and lowered his voice to a whisper. “What’s going on?”
“I need you to distract Abbott,” she muttered, sliding some of the glass toward him. “I need to check her supply and order records.”
“What?” he said, his eyes widening as he chanced a look over his shoulder. “Do you even know where they are?”
“I have an idea.” She grabbed some of the remaining equipment. “She places the inventory sheet in her desk, the bottom drawer on the left. I assume she keeps the records close by.”
“Alright.” He sighed, picking up the rest of the glasses, some of which were still partially full, haphazardly. “I can buy you maybe five minutes. Move fast.”
He turned to the sink and purposely caught his foot on the leg of the table.
The glass equipment tumbled from his hands and crashed to the floor, shattering instantly, and the remaining liquid splattered against the tile.
Abbott shot up from her chair, coming over to the spill.
She pushed her glasses from her nose to the top of her head and crossed her arms.
“What happened?”
“I’m sorry, Professor,” Liam said, teetering on too apologetic. “I turned too quickly and lost my balance an—”
“Alright, alright, it’s fine,” the professor interrupted, her magenta-painted fingernails pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’ll show you the cleaning materials in the back. Ivy, be sure to add the damages in the inventory report so I can order replacements.”
“Of course,” Ivy said, stepping over the broken bits of glass to get to the sink carefully.
She pretended to go about her tasks until they stepped into the back room.
Once they were out of sight, she tiptoed silently to the desk, pulling out the drawer she suspected the order and supply records would be in.
Only a few file folders hung from the metal brackets in the drawer, and she flipped through the labels until she found one that said Order History. She pulled the papers out of the folder, scanning them quickly to find any scrap of information.
Nothing was out of the ordinary on them. She rustled around further. There had to be something here. She moved past the hanging folders where a thick, ring-bound document was hidden beneath a few notepads. When she pushed those aside, she froze.
A THEORY OF ARCANE TRANSFERENCE
But instead of Bremar’s name being attributed to the study.
It was Narcissa Abbott. The answers to her parents’ magic loss had been there this entire time.
She clenched her jaw so tight that her entire face ached.
But it was what she had to do to keep herself from crying.
Why did Abbott have this? Why was her name on it?
She yanked it out of the drawer, not caring for the clattering noise it caused, and plopped it into her lap as she sat on the floor. Before she could flip to the first page, heels clacked along the floor.
“Ivy? What are you doing?” Abbott asked, her voice sharp.
She snapped her gaze at the professor and shrank at the pure fury written across Abbott’s face. Her thin cheeks pulsed with tension as she glared at Ivy, her once hazel-eyes exploding into a fiery amber.
“I…” But Ivy could barely speak.
“Liam, please leave. You are done for the day,” Abbott said quietly. Her voice was terrifyingly even.
Liam, who was partially dressed in a hazmat suit, stared at Ivy before he nodded once.
He slipped off the suit and placed it on one of the tables before grabbing his things and leaving.
She knew he wouldn’t go too far without Ivy, not that she’d be too far behind him given the glare being cast her way.
“Give it to me,” Abbott said, extending her hand.
Ivy rose from the ground, her legs trembling, and handed her the book. “Why…why do you have that?”
Abbott snatched the book so fiercely that Ivy nearly toppled over. “Do you know how common it is for men to attain power?”
Ivy clasped her hands behind her back. “Somewhat.” She didn’t have personal experience with such, no. But she knew through studying history, and now knowing Ezra, some men will do deplorable things for an extra ounce of it.
“It’s almost like breathing for them,” Abbott huffed, a sneer stretching across her red lips.
“Bremar was my mentor while I was a student at Arcania, and at the beginning of my professional career as an alchemist. Under his tutelage, I was given free rein to study and experiment, as long as I reported my findings, and I was grateful. He was one of the most decorated and respected alchemists at the time. I wasn’t afforded such opportunities until I made my way here.
“Growing up, I saw reports of how arcanes would have their magic stolen from them, harvested, is what it was called. Their magic would be sold in underground markets or to the highest bidder. So many are desperate for more power that they’ll deal with the addictive side effects that comes with ingesting it. ”
“That’s terrible.” Ivy couldn’t imagine the pain of having her magic, her soul, ripped away from her. Was that how her parents lost theirs? Was it stolen from them?
Abbott grinned. “But fascinating. I never stopped wondering if magic can be taken from us, what happens when we permanently ingest it? If we knew how to transfer magic from one person to another, think of how strong future generations could be?”
Or how much catastrophic damage those powerful men would inflict?
“I spent years researching, studying, and putting this theory together. Do you want to know how he reacted?” She glowered at the book, and her hands clenched tightly around the pages.
“He laughed. He called it a fantasy. That nothing like what I had proposed would ever happen. It crushed me. This was supposed to be my life’s work.
And the worst part is, I knew he was wrong. ”
Ivy jumped as Abbott threw the book across the room.
The pages fluttered chaotically in the air, and it clunked heavily to the ground.
“Two years pass, and out of nowhere, Bremar himself invites me to a presentation on his new scientific theory. He called it a learning experience. The entire faculty was present, other respected professionals in our field, and the press. When the presentation opened, there was the title of my theory, but with his name written all over it. I almost fled the room. But I forced myself to stay only to see that he had changed practically everything about my theory. Everything he talked about was wrong.”
“That’s how he was discredited?” Ivy asked.
“Yes,” Abbott said, and she sighed shakily.
“But the title, even the idea of arcane transference, became a laughingstock in the field. If I wanted to publish this work, nobody would take me seriously. He stole that power from me by trying to get more for himself. So I keep it to remind myself to never let power be taken from me again.”
“I…I’m sorry, Professor,” Ivy stuttered. She wasn’t sure what else to say. To have that done…she couldn’t imagine.
“Regardless, I do not need a lab assistant who will snoop around in my personal things,” Abbott said coldly. She turned to her red cloak hanging on the hook behind her desk, fishing a set of keys from her pocket. “You are dismissed. Permanently.”
Ivy gasped, the blow of the professor’s words hitting her hard in the gut. “Please, I—”
“I will not repeat myself. Now, go.”
Tears welled in Ivy’s eyes. “Yes, Professor.” She turned away, hurrying down the line of tables and snatching her things before storming out of the door.
Liam was waiting across the hall with Ezra and, as soon as they saw her, they rushed over to her. But she couldn’t explain what happened. She had one chance to get her parents their magic back. One. And she fucked it up.
Ezra walked with her in silence to her apartment, while Liam headed to the library to check in with Maeve. Even in the quiet, he still kept his hand wrapped snugly around hers and his magic brushing hers in soothing circles to help her through it.
By the time they reached the apartment, she was exhausted.
She wanted to lie in bed and sleep the rest of the day away, even though it was barely past sundown.
They entered her room together, and she flicked on the small table lamp on her desk.
When she turned to the bed, she fell back against Ezra.
Sitting on her pillow was a blue envelope. She grit her teeth, her tears stinging her cheeks, and she marched over to the letter and tore it open.
I’LL BE SEEING YOU SOON
- brIAR
Except it wasn’t Briar. It was never Briar writing these letters that would show up at her door. Or, now, in her bedroom. Ezra went off raving, but she hardly paid attention to the words coming out of his mouth. She fell onto the bed; the letter falling from her hand and fluttering to the ground.