Chapter 36
Ilook like an absolute fool. I'm walking back to our room, carrying a travel pack filled with books. If someone stops me and asks where I'm going... I'll have to come up with something ridiculous.
"Hello, there."
I wince. I truly have the worst luck.
"Hey... Loretta, I've been meaning to come see you, and thank you for the hair ties. They have truly been a lifesaver!" I say, hoping my cheery demeanour will be a good enough distraction.
"Oh, just call me Lo… Wait, what hair ties?"
I pull my long braid from behind me, showing her the soft elastic tie that's firmly holding my hair in place.
She frowns, inspecting it.
"I didn't make that! But it is brilliant. Where'd you get it?" she asks curiously.
"Someone left them in my cubby... I just assumed it was you," I frown.
"Nope, not me! Although I wish I could take credit; it's rather clever.
Those little plastic dots must hold the hair nicely.
" She examines it one more time before flopping it down playfully.
"Seems like you have someone looking out for you.
If you figure out who it was, ask them where they got the materials. If there's more, I'd love a couple."
I nod. "Of course." I pull at the end of my braid, peeling the elastic off, before handing it to her.
"Oh no, love! Don't do that, you need them more than me," she says pushing my hand away.
"No really, it's fine. I have another one, and you have hair just as wild as mine. Please? I insist." I grab her hand and roughly curl her fingers around it before she can decline.
Just as she's about to say something more, Lo sees something behind me, and tenses.
"Hello, ladies." Berkley appears at my shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips. It looks so foreign on his face, that I openly gawk at him.
My attention turns back to Lo. Is that a blush? What is happening?
"I was just heading back to Tactile. You two stay out of trouble," she says, giving us both a cheeky wink before walking away, swaying her hips a little more than necessary.
I turn to Berkley, cocking my eyebrow.
"What?" he grumbles.
"Don't what me. Was that flirting?" I ask with a grin.
He puts his hand on his chest. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Maple."
I give him a sarcastic hum, before remembering that I'm packing around a giant bag of contraband, that I've stolen from the library. He seems to note my concern and nods at me, speeding up so he's walking ahead a few paces.
We barely get going, before Berkley spins around, air whooshing in my face from his momentum.
"Give me the bag," he demands, not waiting for a response before he slips it off my shoulder.
I'm so stunned that I end up standing there for a second, Berkley already at the other end of the hall, casual with the pack on his shoulder.
"Ahh, there you are. Just the girl I was looking for."
My muscles tense. Coming around the corner and heading straight for me is none other than the human cockroach himself, Zander.
I dip my chin in greeting.
"If you would be so kind as to follow me, I'd like a word." He turns on his heel and struts down the hall.
I can't help but let out a grumble under my breath. I was so close. I only hope he didn't see that little pack swap.
Zander waits at the an open of an empty classroom door.
He closes it behind me, and I immediately know something is off.
His usually perfect hair is disheveled, and there are dark circles under his eyes.
I've always known Zander is dangerous, but right now he looks unhinged.
There's anger rippling off him in fiery waves.
He says nothing, folding his arms expectantly.
"I'm sorry, I haven't been able to get you any information of value yet. I'm working on it," I assure him.
He nods, picking at imaginary dirt under his immaculate fingernails.
"How are your siblings? Have a good visit?" he asks, his voice dripping with irritation.
"It was good. I really appreciated it."
His eyes flare.
"And yet, here we are. I don't know where you got the impression that I am someone who doesn't collect on the favours I'm owed, but I can assure you, that's not the case," he sneers.
My eyes narrow at how quickly his level facade dropped. What is the urgency here?
"I didn't realize we were in a time crunch. Maybe if you could steer me in the right direction, I could get it done more quickly. Is there specific information you’re looking for?
From a particular group? There's a lot of people here, Mr. Morosse— it's going to take me time to get you something significant. "
He runs his tongue along his teeth, as he considers this. He begins to circle me, and I follow to face him.
"I came to you, Ms. Treow, because you seemed resourceful. Despite your pitiful proficiency tests, you scored quite high in problem-solving and emotional intelligence. Maybe I was wrong about you."
He's good, I'll give him that, but it wouldn't take much to surmise that would be a sore spot for me.
I was disappointed, when our memories came back, and so much of the haze was lifted, that I wasn't suddenly book smart.
Apparently, my brain is still just inherently different, but it feels a little less overwhelming now that I can at least remember certain details.
Instead of losing all my memories, I now only seem to lose things like verbal instructions or short-term information.
Zander creeps closer to me, stalking me like an animal. I don't move. I keep my eyes locked on him.
He strikes, grabbing my throat and slamming me back against the door. My head hits it with a thud, and I struggle momentarily to breathe before he loosens his grip.
Anger, hot and heavy, curls inside me, because how am I here again?
Under the thumb of a pitiful man who thinks I owe him something.
I could lash out. I could take him down and make a run for it.
Physically, Zander isn't intimidating at all.
But once again, the fire burning inside me is only secondary to that voice, reminding me of who will pay if I don't control my temper.
So I stay still, and take it.
"You will do your job. You will get me information about who, within these walls, is trying to undo what we've worked so hard to accomplish.
" He squeezes his hand, cutting off my air supply completely.
"You have 48 hours before I start getting impatient.
Maybe I'll visit those sweet siblings of yours, or maybe I'll just start by questioning your friends here. " He rips his hand away from my neck.
My hands go to my already sore throat as I gulp down air.
I can't help the glare I throw at him as he straightens himself, running a hand through his hair and pulling at his blazer.
He shoves his hands in his pockets, and plasters a grin on his face.
All the venom wiped clean in a matter of seconds; the calm and casual leader once again.
He gives me one last look, before stepping around me to the door.
"Two days, Maple. Get to work."
And then he leaves me there, seething. I will get to work. Happily.
"Anything?" I ask Farra, as she goes over a book that I've already read twice.
"Asking me every five minutes is actually not that helpful, if you want to know," she barks back. There's humour there. She's not actually mad, but I can tell she's worried.
I'm wound tight.
The books I've brought have been helpful, but there are still too many unanswered questions.
The most helpful book so far has been the one on magical creatures.
It actually had an extensive section about sprites, and more importantly, guides because there seems to be a difference.
Sprites use their magic in an endless loop, feeding and giving back to whatever affinity they're created from.
At one point in time, apparently you could find them everywhere, you'd see glowing water sprite families lounging over lakes and air sprites whipping with the breeze through trees. Unless they become guides.
What we had assumed about the little being was right— he is Leo's guide.
Sprites rarely present themselves to humans, living with their own kind in the element they are made from.
Some, however, will find their magical counterpart, and go through "the calling". That part is hazy, but the sprite is usually an adolescent at this point. Then, once the sprite and wielder have bonded, the sprite’s main objective is to nurture that person's magic.
It becomes a familial bond. Leo was pretty excited about this, and calls the little creature "brother" now.
Through everything we're reading, and the little I've been able to decipher from my chats with Sibs, magic is more of a cognizant entity than it is a "thing".
It's almost the exact opposite of what we've been taught—that magic is a gift, completely controlled by the Gods.
But the more I learn, the more I realize that can't be true.
Some of these books describe magic as being sentient.
There is no give without take, magic is in constant pursuit of balance.
"Well, I don't know if this is helpful, but it's sure... interesting," Farra says, coming to sit beside me.
"This talks about binding—how mortals can bind magical creatures to themselves..." Farra squints, "But it comes at a high cost."
I frown.
"Bind what? A sprite? What would that mean?"
"It would mean traditionally non-magical people would have access to another's magic, through the binding.
But again, it says it's against the laws of nature and the binder gives up a piece of their essence—or soul—when doing so.
But it's weird, because it goes on to say you can bind anything," she says, concern lacing her features.
My stomach sinks.
"Anything? Even a God?" I ask, as my heart thumps heavily in my chest. Didn't Sibs say something about Silvanis being bound?
Farra hums. "According to this, I'd say yes."
"Does it say how?" I ask, and I'm met with a frown.