23. Midnight
Midnight
Two Hundred and Forty-Three Days To Go
C lasses are relentless.
Bastien, Lex and I sink into a routine. We eat breakfast together.
Some of our classes cross, but most do not.
We meet in the refectory for lunches, and most often dinner in the apartment with our books spread out on the communal table.
Each of us brings class problems to the others.
We share knowledge generously, and all of us benefit from it.
Aurelia keeps to herself. I think she’s found a group of friends, annoyingly Darwin, one of my old reaper pals, is in that group.
“I heard a conspiracy today. Architecti wasn’t the bad guy—her sister was,” Bastien says, shovelling chicken into his mouth.
“Nope, I heard it was the elder angel, and she was in love with him and took the fall. Proper age-gap romance style,” Lex adds, pinching the chicken Bastien just picked up and gobbling it before he has a chance to protest.
I pull the demonic runes dictionary towards me and continue flicking through it.
“Why do you keep reading those when you don’t take any Eytomancy classes?” Lex says.
“I find them interesting,” I say. Which is a total lie.
I want to find the symbol that appeared twice on Lucy’s neck.
I’ve spent weeks hunting and failed to find anything useful.
I’ve managed to sketch a couple of lines for Lucy, and she’s convinced it’s something to do with her contract.
Given our deal and my promise to help her, I’ll continue searching and reading.
I catch Lex glancing at my wrist and the brand, so I pull my sleeve down.
“Sorry,” she says, sheepish.
“How long?” Bastien asks.
“Two hundred and forty-three days.”
Bastien raises an eyebrow. “Not that you’re counting.”
I give him a sad smile. “The only certainty I have is the relentlessness of the ticking clock. Anyway, Architecti—for or against resurrection?” I say, changing the subject.
“Ooh, a debate, love them. For,” Lex says.
Bastien’s mouth drops. “You’re kidding?”
Lex shrugs. “It’s not like I’m a Societas member or anything extreme. I just think if she was resurrected, maybe the angels would return.”
“Yeah, and all-out war, I imagine,” Bastien says between mouthfuls of eggs. How he can eat a full-blown protein pile this early in the morning, I don’t know.
“Maybe. Or maybe things would go back to the way they were, when we had access to all kinds of magic. Covenants benefit mortals much more than contracts, and we don’t have those anymore,” I add.
Lex claps and points at me. “See? Midnight’s got it.”
“I don’t know, none of the demons have tried to overthrow mortals or restructure our government,” Bastien says and gets up to make coffee.
“They don’t have to.” I close my textbook and pack my bag for the day.
“How so?” Bastien asks.
“They steal our future, what else do they need?”
That makes Bastien falter, a flicker of comprehension sliding into his features. “I never thought about it like that.”
“No. And the demons don’t want you to either. That’s the problem with authority, and why healthy debate matters. It opens your mind,” Lex says, packing her books.
Bastien hands out three coffees in to-go cups, and we head out for class.
* * *
“Classes are stepping up today,” Professor Alistair Ironheart announces. Another professor stands at the front of the room with him, one I’ve seen hanging out with Lucy.
“Good morning, I am Professor Thalia Morrow,” she says.
She’s older than Ironheart, her hair is streaked with grey, though gracefully so. Her eyes are as mismatched as her hair, one blue and one golden. She has an ethereal quality to her as she glides across the room, though equally, she has an edge that screams do not fuck with me .
She continues. “Due to the acceleration in studies, we are doubling up. As Veil students, you should be spending this term studying the theory of both Veilwalking and Fabric Weaving.”
“We don’t want to weave fabric, though,” the same arrogant student who shouted out the morning of initiation says. He’s been obnoxious like this all term.
“What’s your name, boy?” Thalia asks.
“Hadrian Umbriel.”
She examines his face, her voice turning cold. “If you have no skills in Fabric Weaving, how do you expect to cut yourself a hole out of the underworld should you get in trouble?”
“Don’t plan on getting into trouble,” he scoffs.
Thalia’s eyes fill with enough malice that even her sunny gold irises turn icy.
“Well, Hadrian, seeing as you have so much confidence, you get to go first.” She turns to the class. “I want the Fabric Weaving students on the left, and the Veilwalkers on the right. Pair up.”
We all move fast. Thankfully, Aurelia partners with someone else. Hadrian is situated next to me, but I get left with a blonde girl who is honestly so wispy and frail-looking, I’m amazed she had the strength to make it through the Severance Rite, let alone the last term of gruelling lectures.
Alistair claps for silence. We oblige and Thalia continues.
“Doorstop students, you’re going straight into cutting. I want you to make a six-inch incision in the Veil fabric. Professors and Teaching Assistants, I need one with each pairing. The Doorstops will cut, and Detours, I want you to slide your hand into the Veil and back out again.”
The blonde girl I’m partnered with raises her hand.
“Yes?” Thalia says.
“How do we cut?” she asks.
Thalia grins, not sweetly. Her teeth are a little sharper than I expected. “You’ve not done cutting yet?”
Alistair pouts. “Arcadius insisted on a defence focus for the first term. Given the number of tears over the last few weeks, I am now inclined to agree with him.”
“Fine. You cut like this.” Thalia closes her eyes, raises her hands and dark ribbons peel off from the walls.
“Call the magic to you, eyes closed, hearts open. When you feel a tingle in your fingers, grab hold and tug. It will come. Fabric students, you’re predisposed to sensing the Veil.
Hold your hands up and glide them through the air until you feel a hitch.
A broken stitch, like when your heart skips a beat. That is where you cut.”
She demonstrates, her hands moving through the air. The Doorstops all gasp when her fingers halt suddenly.
I frown.
The blonde girl touches my arm and says, “We can see the fabric. And it’s Silvana. We partnered once last term for ashspawn defence, but you were exhausted that day, so I figured you wouldn’t remember.”
I shake her hand and whisper my name. “Apologies. I’m Midnight.”
Thalia brings an index finger and middle finger together, then does the same with her other hand. The undersides touch, and she makes a sharp sweeping motion.
There’s a series of oohs and gasps. I fidget on the spot, uncomfortable at not being able to see what they can.
“Think we’ve got a runt here,” Hadrian says, pointing at me.
“Go fuck yourself,” I snarl.
“Umbriel,” Thalia snaps, her top lip curls, and I swear she’ll seal his hand in the other side if he doesn’t watch it. “All yours…” she snarls and gestures at the tear.
He swallows, looking less confident and holds his hand out.
Thalia cocks her eyebrow at him. “I thought you could see the cut?” She smirks, and Hadrian blushes. His friends laugh at him, and I’m instantly less pissy.
She sighs and moves his hand to the right position. “Feel the frayed edge?” she asks.
His brow furrows in concentration, a line of sweat appearing. “THERE!” he says, and his hand vanishes.
“Whoa,” I breathe, along with half the other students in here.
He goes grey, yanks his hand out and promptly spews at Thalia’s feet. She makes the reverse swiping shape with her hand, and I assume the cut seals back up.
She glances down, her nose wrinkling. “I forgot how pathetic first-years were. Clean that up, Umbriel. Right, everyone else, begin.”
I take back everything I said about Silvana.
She might be small, but she’s a beast with the fabric.
She slices first—as a Doorstop it’s a lot easier for her.
I, however, am not so good. She guides my hands to the frayed fabric, but it takes me three attempts and an extra ribbon of magic from the classroom walls before I can slide my hand through.
I don’t puke, but I do get a nosebleed.
Despite the blood pissing down my face, all I can taste is sour milk, stale cigarettes and a hint of old meat. No wonder Hadrian puked. I have to rapidly swallow down both blood and bile to stop myself doing the same.
This could all be over. The campus. That fucking incessant voice. It hasn’t left me. Not since I made the deal. It’s in the windows and walls. It follows me to class and into my dreams. It whispers in the wind and poisons my thoughts.
It wants Lucy.
And I don’t want to give her to it.
“You okay?” Silvana says.
“Yeah. Sorry. Just clearing my head.”
The class moves on. By lunch, all of us are sweating and exhausted. Most of us are covered in bruises. One student lost a nail—an ashspawn bit it and yanked it out of the nail bed.
Thalia strides up to Aurelia. “Well done, I was extremely impressed with you. Keep this up, and that favour will be yours, without a doubt.”
Aurelia beams.
I seethe.
With less than eight months left, I need to double down and increase the number of extra training sessions I’m doing, or I can kiss my soul goodbye.