38. Lucy
Lucy
H elena’s cremation is a simple affair. We bury her in the campus cemetery two days after the incident. Her celebration, like all funerals in Ora, begins in Church Vitalis remembering her life and ends in Church Mortis where we remember her death.
The professors are muted, the energy on campus dimmed compared to the loss of Malifax. He was a traitor, Helena was beloved.
And it’s my fault. She died in my place. She died because of me.
Because the Societas are convinced I can somehow resurrect Architecti. But they’re wrong. They’re so fucking wrong, but only Father and I can prove it.
It doesn’t matter how much he tries to convince me otherwise, it’s my fault she’s dead.
I take a couple of days off teaching to get some headspace, to think, to torture myself with the contract.
It vexes me. I have tried every contact I have to see if there are any codexes or former professors who could translate angelic runes.
But there are none. The ones that can still read it—and they are few and far between—are reluctant to engage with anything celestial for fear of the Societas.
Those I dared to show snippets of the contract to said while they could read some celestial runes, this was beyond their skillset.
Dead end after dead end.
No books or texts exist. They were all either burnt or vanished with the angels. Lex leant me her dictionary, but it’s so rudimentary, and these runes are complex. It’s as though every ounce of angelic language was sucked from our realm when Father disposed of Architecti.
I put my head in my hands, the frustration gnawing into my bones.
One of my moths flutters across my living room, its wings are so threadbare I really need to reanimate it again or I’ll lose him. But it’s such a gruelling process for their little bodies I’m always reluctant to put them through it.
He seems tired as I let him flutter around my cheek. I imagine he’s kissing me hello.
“Sweet thing,” I say and carry him back to the moth room just as there’s a soft knock at my penthouse door.
It will be Midnight and her friends. Reluctantly, I pad to the door. I wondered how long it would take them to visit. Bastien and Lex barrel in, their arms full of texts and papers.
Midnight follows, her arms equally full though she doesn’t look at me.
My body strangles me in a cocktail of sensations: my heart sinking while my stomach flutters like one of my young moths. Strange how we can hold conflicting things inside of ourselves. My fingers twitch, desperate to reach out to her, to hold her and touch her.
“Studying hard, are we?” I ask.
“Finals are killing everyone, don’t even think I’m going to make it to the exam,” Lex moans.
“And I thought Bastien was the dramatic one. We’re still a couple of weeks out,” I say, smiling.
“Rude,” Bastien huffs.
I am about to highlight that he’s making my point for me, but I figure it’ll be lost on him.
Lex chucks her stuff on the table and opens the cupboards. “Bastien, can you make that thing again? It was delicious.”
“You mean the chicken salad?” he deadpans.
“Don’t be like that, you know it had a fancy sauce.” She shuts the cupboard and hustles him into the kitchen while Midnight and I stand opposite each other, neither of us quite sure of what to do.
Her eyes flit to my neck, lingering there longer than normal.
“Is it on display?” I ask.
She nods.
I lower my eyes to the floor. Even her proximity is bringing out the runes now. I don’t want to consider what this means, what the consequences of this are.
“I’m sorry I reaped them. I didn’t mean to scare you,” she says.
“Is that what you thought?” I ask.
She nods, her eyes welling up.
“Gods, Midnight, no. Thank you for doing it, you saved me. They wanted me dead.”
“Then…”
“It’s my fault she’s dead. It just shook me, is all. I needed some time out. From…” But I stop myself because saying it would hurt her, and I don’t want to do that either.
“From me,” she finishes.
“I…” I start.
She holds her hands up. “No. It’s fine. I get it. I knew from the outset you weren’t able to commit, to have feelings for me. You were straight with me, and the fact that I developed feelings for you, is on me.”
She takes a seat at the table and opens her books.
“Midnight…”
But Lex and Bastien return holding food and drinks for everyone.
“I just can’t get this contract essay right,” Lex whines while shovelling chicken and salad in her mouth. “All the clauses are clunky, and I think I’m missing obvious contractual issues.”
“Give it here,” I say, holding my hand out for the parchment.
I scan it, and it’s actually exceptional. “I only see one issue. You’ve missed an obvious loophole here. Not going to tell you what it is, but this is where it should go.” I point at a sub clause in her document, and she nods.
“Thanks, Prof.”
I smile at her, all the while painfully aware of how quiet Midnight is. It makes my insides squirm recognising that I’m the one responsible for the haunted look in her eyes.
“Speaking of contracts,” Bastien says, raising his eyebrow at me. “How has it gone?”
I shrug. “Not well.” I get up from the table and pull the contract from the drawer. “I can’t read it. And anyone I’ve tried to contact was a dead end.”
Lex rubs her hands together as she nestles next to me and examines it.
“The fact it’s in celestial runes…” Lex pauses.
Midnight rakes her hand through her hair and looks at me. “I guess it’s to be expected, given your neck.”
“And yet, Ignatius wrote the contract, so arguably it should be in demonic scripture,” Lex continues.
“It’s proving quite the mystery,” I say.
“What do we do? How does it get read?” Midnight asks.
“It doesn’t. I don’t know anyone at Finis who can read angelic runes. In fact, I’m not sure I know anyone in Ora City who can. Not alive, anyway.”
Bastien shifts in his seat. A light sheen breaks out over his brow.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Spit it out.”
He rubs his forehead, licking and chewing at his bottom lip.
“Bastien?” Lex snaps.
He raises his hands in defence. “I know someone who can, or they could, at least.”
“Define could ,” Midnight says, leaning on her chair legs to swing in her seat.
“She’s dead,” he groans.
“Says the resurrectionist,” Lex scoffs.
He gives her a shitty stare. “What’s the first rule of resurrection?”
“Who cares? I dropped it the first week we were here. I’m not in your classes, remember?”
But I know where this is going and why he’s so uncomfortable. “Don’t resurrect family,” I say.
He points at me. “One point to the prof.”
“It’s your sister?” Midnight asks.
He nods. “Who is rapidly turning from a shade into a wraith. So… not exactly who we’d want to ask for help.”
I slouch back in my seat, trawling through anyone I’ve met or colleagues of colleagues I might know that could help, but I come up empty.
“I’m out,” Midnight says. “I don’t know anyone.”
“Me too,” Lex says. “Had my sister known anyone, she’d have told me because she knows what a language nut I am.”
Bastien pleads with me silently, his forehead lined. I search my memory for anything or anyone else I can think of.
“It’s fine,” I say. “I’m not putting this burden on you. You’ve all done too much for me already.”
“Fuck that,” Lex says. “Midnight’s our gal, and if you’re her gal, then that makes you our gal by default.”
Midnight nods, Bastien too.
“Professor or not, you’re one of us,” Bastien says.
“Thank you, that’s kind. But truly, this is my problem, not yours.”
Midnight sighs. “I’m sorry, Bastien. Looks like you’re our only option.”
“I agree. Fuck,” he says and puts his head in his hands.