Chapter 30 #2
I’ve lost track of how many songs we’ve danced to when I finally decide I need a break.
As I exit the dance floor and head for the refreshment table again, I glance at Alaric, who hasn’t moved.
He smiles at me again and tilts his head toward the side door, indicating for me to follow him.
I nod just enough to signal to him that I understand, then watch as he disappears through the doorway.
One minute later, I walk through as well.
The doorway opens into a wide hallway, and I walk deeper into the building to the next intersection of walkways. It’s much cooler in the halls, and quieter too. The tapping of my heels echoes against the floors, and the music from the main room is muffled by the thick stone walls.
Alaric waits for me around the first corner, sweeping me into his arms as soon as I reach him. The arched window a few feet away casts pale moonlight onto the floor, illuminating it just enough for us to see.
“Dance with me?” he murmurs.
I reach to wrap my arms around his neck. “Of course.”
We move together in the darkness, swaying to the slow rhythm reverberating through the walls. The nervous energy that’s been fluttering in my stomach all day dulls as I relax into his warm body pressed against mine. Right now, nothing else exists besides the two of us.
“I want to apologize,” Alaric says, pulling his head back slightly to look down at me. His features look even sharper in the shadows cast by the moonlight.
“For what?”
“I haven’t been giving you the attention you deserve lately. I have a bad habit of becoming consumed by my work.”
“You’ve been busy,” I say. “It’s okay if you forget me every once in a while for more important things.”
Alaric places a finger beneath my chin to lift my face toward his. “Nothing is more important than you. And I could never forget you, Vivian. You’ve brought light into my life that I hadn’t even realized was missing.”
I smile up at him. “I feel the same way.”
He holds my gaze for a long time, and the depth of emotion in his eyes assures me that he’s telling the truth. With his hands on my waist, the quiet secrecy of our dancing, and the way he’s looking at me as if he’s never wanted anything more, the moment is so intimate that I forget how to breathe.
Minutes later, he spins me out into the center of the hallway, the moonlight pooling on the floor like a spotlight.
“You are radiant,” Alaric breathes, taking a step back to fully observe me.
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
He shakes his head with a gentle smile, as if in disbelief. “For all the time we spend together, it still never feels like enough.”
Nodding in agreement, I move to take his hand and dance with him one last time for the night. “I know. But maybe after this semester, things will be a little easier. How much longer should your research take?”
“It’s impossible to know.”
“Will you ever tell me what you're working on?” I ask in a playful tone, but we both know the question is serious.
“One day,” he promises. “I promise. One day, I'll tell you everything.”
“I'll hold you to that.”
He smiles and leans down to press his forehead against mine. “Good.”
We dance until the song ends, both of us reluctant to pull away.
“You should get back,” Alaric says, though he doesn't sound any more enthusiastic about the idea than I feel.
“So should you. I’m sure having the notorious Dr. Vale chaperoning helps with keeping students in line,” I tease.
“That’s right. You better be on your best behavior, Miss Harver.” He winks, and my stomach swoops.
When I slip back into the Great Hall, the party has become more chaotic. The faculty members are fighting a losing battle against students passing around bottles of what I'm certain is Fae wine, and the energy of the party has become more chaotic.
I find my friends clustered around one of the tables near the back of the room, and they all turn to look at me when I approach.
“Where have you been?” Callista demands. “We were about to send out a search party.”
“I told them you went to the bathroom,” Max says, clearly covering for me. She’s the only one who knows even some of the reality about my situation, and I’m grateful for her willingness to lie on my behalf.
“There's a fortune teller,” Delilah says, gesturing to the back of the massive room where a small corner area is draped in purple fabric. “We were thinking of getting readings done. Want to join?”
I shrug. “Sure, why not?” I’ve never been much of a believer in that sort of thing, but it’s fun if nothing else.
We make our way over to the table, and I vaguely recognize the woman behind the booth. She’s tall and thin, almost willowy in stature, with long, dark hair that reaches her hips.
“She’s an Oracle,” Max whispers. “She’s in some of my Mentalism classes.”
“Wait, is that actually a real thing?” I ask. “Not just some silly, vague pseudo-spiritual stuff?”
“Kind of. Oracles have visions of the future on very rare occasions, so that’s legitimate. But otherwise, they generally just have a slight knack for predicting the future on a really mundane scale.”
Will I ever get used to this sort of thing? Probably not. I can hardly believe there are real, actual people who can see the future, even after learning about magic.
One by one, the others take their turns, stepping into the booth and slipping the fabric drape closed for privacy.
Callista goes first, laughing at whatever the Oracle tells her.
Avery goes next, emerging looking thoughtful.
Then Delilah, who seems pleased with her reading.
Max goes fourth, and when she returns to us, her expression is amused.
Finally, it's my turn.
I sink into the chair across from the Oracle, and she flashes me a polite smile. A candle flickers between us, wax pooling in droplets at the base where it’s dried.
“Ask your question,” she prompts.
“Oh, uh, I don't really have a specific question. Could you just maybe tell me what you predict?”
She nods, taking both of my hands in hers and looking at me thoughtfully. Her eyes close, but when she opens them again, they roll back in her head, and only the whites of her eyes are visible.
I resist the urge to pull away, telling myself this is normal, but deep down, I know it’s not. The woman speaks in a resonant tone that’s nothing like the soft one she’d greeted me with.
“Five shall gather where five once stood to change the tides of fate. What is unfinished alone may yet be made whole, and in your greatest weakness, strength will be revealed.”
The candle between us flares, its flame shooting up a foot in the air before dying back down to normal.
Then, just as quickly as it began, it's over. The Oracle blinks, her eyes returning to normal, and she shakes her head, confused.
“I—I’m sorry, I spaced out for a second,” she says. “Let’s do your reading.”
I drop her hands and stand. “Actually, that’s okay. I’m just gonna go.”
She clearly doesn’t remember the weird vision she just had, which means she won’t be able to repeat it. But what the hell did it mean?
I exit the makeshift tent in a daze, and the girls immediately notice that something’s wrong.
“Hey, what happened in there?” Delilah asks.
I shake my head. “I don’t know, but I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
Max furrows her brow, even more concerned now. “Vivian, if she had an actual vision, you should—”
I cut her off. “Please. Let’s just dance, okay?”
All four of them look at me with a mixture of concern, pity, and fear, but they stay silent and follow me to the dance floor regardless.
We get lost in the music again, and I manage to pretend to relax, but the Oracle’s words echo in my mind. Five shall gather where five once stood. That has to mean us, doesn’t it? The five of us? And what did she mean about strengths being revealed in weakness?
I push the thoughts away and attempt to focus on the present moment. Whatever the Oracle saw, whatever darkness she spoke of, it's not here yet. So for now, I’m going to dance.