Chapter 15 #2
The fact that I can’t guess when before the answer would have seemed obvious both irritates me and stirs my pulse at the challenge.
I peer out across the green and poke my head into the cafeteria, prime spots for her usual socializing habits, and come up empty.
Cadance and Madison are laughing together near the now-empty buffet stand, possibly making predictions about tomorrow’s spread, but Miss Devine is nowhere in sight.
As I prowl onward, the ephemera lodged in my surroundings rises to a buzz. Perhaps I miscalculated my dose of kavish.
These walls have seen too much. Every student and staff member that passes by them leaves their invisible mark. And I’ve trained myself to pick up on every shred of lingering energy I can.
The kavish heightens my awareness… and stops me from tuning any of it out. Why didn’t I keep my pupils in the blasted classroom?
The burnt chalky smell emanating from beneath the chemistry-room door doesn’t improve my mood. Nor does the jangle of discordant instruments from the idiotic Professor Kosilov’s workshop on theories of sound and magic.
I finally stumble on my target in the grand foyer of Thesan Hall, outside the senior administrative offices.
She looks small beneath the vaulted ceiling that looms two stories above her head. Her heeled boots make only a faint tapping as she ambles along one side of the purple-and-gold rug stretching down the center of the tiled floor.
No one else has ventured this far. Her only company is the lines of portraits along the opposite wall: past headmasters, top professors, and the major donors of the past few decades. Her grandparents’ faces are up there among them.
She isn’t looking in their direction, though. Her gaze sweeps across the imposing space as if she’s searching for something. It pauses on the doors to the offices and the broad double-doors that lead out of the building.
I’m guessing she wants to forecast something bigger than what’s for lunch tomorrow.
As I approach her, the thrum of the surrounding ephemera intensifies. Few spaces in the school have held more life and all the mess that comes with it than this one.
I fold my arms over my chest. “Taking your time, are you, Miss Devine?”
The slow turn of Elodie’s head tells me she knew I was there and simply hadn’t bothered to acknowledge me until I forced the issue. Another jab of irritation rattles my nerves.
“I figured I should make sure whatever prediction I come up with has some meat to it,” she replies.
It’s a sentiment I’d normally approve of, except the dismissive note in her voice makes me wonder how much she means it.
I take a step closer, willing away the faint jasmine scent that reaches my nose and the unexpected twinge it wakes up low in my belly. Not a sensation I should let any student provoke in me.
Pushing it aside, I train all my awareness on the quivers of energy emanating from her slim form.
I read all of my students periodically in the midst of classwork, though I don’t generally pry very deeply. Most of their “depth” is disturbingly banal anyway.
But the wisps of impressions Elodie exudes right now feel oddly foreign. As if she’s a stranger I’m assessing for the first time.
What is it that’s different? More jagged edges, maybe? A little more fire?
Or are those just aspects of herself she’s done a better job suppressing in the past and now is letting slip for whatever reason?
I can’t stand here simply staring at her for long. And the longer I do, the more an uncomfortable pressure builds in my chest, as if prodding me to walk even closer.
I tense my legs against the urge. “I’m surprised to hear you say that when you’ve seemed rather uncommitted to your studies this week. Were you dealing with some difficulty I should be aware of?”
It’s not a totally fair accusation or question, considering I don’t give much of a shit what “difficulties” a Devine could possibly experience. But my prompt shifts different, sharper ephemera to the surface of her aura.
A fall as if across a tremendous distance. A bittersweet joy at seeing… her father? A long walk down a dreary street—
My searching mind slams to a halt with Elodie’s tart voice—and a quiver of energy between us. “I’m perfectly fine and as committed as ever, Professor Raith. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get on with tracing a thread I think is promising.”
She’s drawn her personal ephemera back behind a shield of magic—and not even bothered to acknowledge that she’s purposefully blocking my evaluation.
Never mind that my evaluation wasn’t really of a professional nature. She shouldn’t have been able to detect that I was doing it.
What has gotten into this girl?
The urgency that comes with the question, a sudden almost frantic clamor to understand, pisses me off more than anything else. With only blankness in front of me, the hall’s ephemera roars at the edges of my heightened senses.
My temper slips. “You don’t strike me as particularly cooperative right now, Miss Devine.”
Elodie’s jaw works, but she doesn’t bother to look back at me. “I thought it was commitment you were looking for, not cooperation, Professor.”
Something about the way she bites out my title sears any remaining common sense from my head—and jolts to my groin, turning me half-hard.
For fuck’s sake. What the hell has gotten into me?
A snarl of frustration claws at my throat.
I jerk my hand toward the far end of the hall.
“You’ve clearly spent enough time here without coming up with anything useful.
Why don’t you demonstrate both qualities by finishing your work elsewhere?
Or will I be failing you for insubordination and a failure to follow basic instructions this time? ”
A tick of obvious discomfort crosses Elodie’s face before she whips herself around and marches off without a word. The harsh tone I brought out sours in the back of my mouth.
Even though she’s the one retreating, the sense prickles up my spine that I lost more than she did.