Chapter 10
By the time I got back to my cabin after our class, Marina had me convinced that despite being outed within an hour, it was going to be okay.
“Everyone was going to find out eventually anyway. Might as well get it over with first thing, right?”
Easy for her to say, but I wasn’t so sure.
“And hey, at least now she wants us to attend the higher-level class with her next time. Instant promotion. Can’t beat that!” She bumped her shoulders against mine. “We gotta learn, Hannah, and being in a beginners’ class won’t do that.”
That was true enough. Once Bryony had seen me in action, and what a quick student Marina was, she’d switched ‘Hannah and Mari’ to the advanced class. Ideally, the two of us would be able to teach what we learned to our friends.
Silver linings.
And the fact that I’d talked little chubby-cheeks – actual name, Jacob – into the deal, too, was the cherry on top.
I suspected Bryony knew I was the one behind the stone he’d supposedly turned into a mushroom, but she either had the grace not to call me on it or the empathy not to embarrass him in front of the others, because he’d wound up getting promoted along with us.
We wouldn’t be here to help him forever, but Bryony had mentioned being open to doing one-on-one tutoring if any of us found the advanced class a little too challenging.
It made me like her a hell of a lot more than any other teacher I’d ever had.
Maybe this school really was better than Neverthorn after all.
Still, if we wanted to stay as long as we could, I needed to recommit to the whole ‘low profile’ thing. Because so far? I was failing spectacularly.
“I’ve got to go,” Marina said as we slowed in front of my cabin. “I told Ellie I would meet her and Caterina by the fountain for a few minutes. Everyone is so nervous and it’s hard being apart.”
As much as I hated to see her go, and almost asked if I could join them, I was champing at the bit to know what my house motto meant. And maybe a little time alone with all those books in the cabin I’d be able to find it.
Her knuckles brushed mine, and a flare of her emotions whispered to me – excitement, nerves mostly, but no fear.
Rather than question this new and growing connection to my friends, I decided to be grateful. It wasn’t all the time, and the moments it was happening helped me ground myself too.
I headed inside my new cabin, grabbed my backpack from the couch and dug through it until I found my reading glass.
A gift from Typhon, from what seemed like a hundred years before. The yellow glass helped to unscramble runes for me when I read, allowing me to learn at the standard pace when it came to traditional magic.
Glass in hand, I headed upstairs. Interesting that not one step squeaked. I would have to pull some of the nails loose if I wanted a warning system like Liam had. But that was a job for another day. A day when I didn’t feel like I was one false move away from keeling over.
A day when my body wasn’t still aching from the night before.
Upstairs, there was a circular-shaped office with panoramic windows covering the outer perimeter. Massive bookshelves lined the interior walls and I let out a low whistle.
Hundreds, maybe even thousands of books.
“Fable is going to freak out when she sees this,” I muttered as I went to the shelves, looking for something on Latin translations or the house mottos; anything would do.
It took me half an hour to find a book on Heathermoor. A History of Heathermoor: From the Beginning, by Nathandel Wortwhell.
The huge, red leather-bound tome covered my lap, and the pictures and printing looked like they’d been done on an old-timey press.
Even the spine was hand stitched with sinew, by the feel of it.
Tea and coffee stains, smudged fingerprints, even a few drops of blood marked the pages.
No date in the front, but that didn’t matter.
I’d sought out enough jewels and specialty items that I knew.
Thieving 107: Know your shit.
This was old. Only about half of the book was filled, the remaining pages were blank, whether for notes, or perhaps they had been wiped with a rune.
I flipped through the first portion, taking note of very little until it came to the houses. The depictions of the crests were exactly like the crests at Neverthorn – with the addition of House Phoenix. I traced the image of the flame-plumed bird rising upward.
The only thing that surprised me was that all seven were listed – though it shouldn’t have. House Phoenix had only been ousted when Nocta went on his rampage.
“Okay, let’s see what we’ve got.”
House Draconell is home to the strongest of our magic users, particularly when it comes to consistency.
While we have seen members of House Phoenix outstrip House Draconell in sheer power, it is rarely without cost, and their inherent volatility makes them unreliable.
As such, those of Draconell are often seen on the front lines of battle, as our generals and leaders.
‘With fire and iron’ is appropriate to their strength of magic and the stubbornness they display when faced with a challenge. Not many could withstand their efforts if they chose to go through instead of around.
“You’re not telling me anything I don’t know, Nate.
What else you got?” I trailed my finger through the description of House Draconell, reading a list of details that I definitely would not have associated with them, not after Neverthorn.
Kindness, heart, courage, friendship. Qualities that seemed .
. . off, in many ways, from the students I’d known in Draconell . . .
But I’d have time to read about the other houses later; I needed to see what he’d written about House Phoenix. And then I was there, on the page with the Phoenix drawn in black and white, and my yellow glass had me devouring the words.
House Phoenix is an enigma of power, unusual abilities, and an inability to fall into line.
Nearly every member of House Phoenix carries a powerful Quirk.
Of course, they often develop later than most and, as such, are often not educated in the ways of magic until later in their lives.
This combination of power, lack of training, and natural rebellion within them makes them catalysts for change.
They are who we look to when the darkness rises, even though we know that House Phoenix has produced some of our most vile Dwimmers.
It is also through them that the strongest of our kind have stood and faced the tides of evil.
It is such that they have been given the moniker ‘Luceo non uro.’
Shine, not burn.
Some will shine. Some will burn. It is up to each of them to make the decision as to which path they will choose.
And to us, we pray to Hecate and the Horned King that they follow a path of love, loyalty, and guardianship of our world, rather than embracing the chaos and darkness that so often calls to them.
“No pressure.” I stared at the words and found myself touching the pendant at my neck.
Questions swirled through me, but I’d ponder those in bed at night, along with everything else in my life. I had to get to work on the other problem looming over me. The one that was due to kill me in twenty-two days if I didn’t get on it . . . twenty-one really if I was being honest.
I headed to get the locket I’d tucked away, and the second I flicked it open, Calypso was there scowling.
“Shine, not burn!” I said triumphantly. “That’s the house motto.”
“Oh, yeah, that makes sense,” she said, her frown easing before her brows pinched back together. “But don’t change the subject. You left me! That’s not allowed. Part of the deal is that you take me wherever you –”
“Look, I don’t have time for lectures. I was about to go try out my ‘finders keepers’ spell to look for the kraken coin now, but if you’re too mad at me to see how it goes . . .”
“Ooh, yay! Yes! Let’s see what you’ve got, shiny girl! Let’s see if this fancy rune of yours can locate my coin, shall we?”
I didn’t tell her not to call me that, knowing it would only encourage her. But it didn’t matter what I said. She’d latch onto it like a kid with a new toy.
Fatigue bit at me, that and more than a bit of hunger. While I’d eaten breakfast, it felt like I’d gone without, and it was well past noon now. I made a mental deal with myself. If I could at least get a lead on the coin, I’d take time out to grab a sandwich.
And maybe some soup.
My mouth started to water as I wondered if they had their own Scottish version of Mrs. Wickersham here . . .
‘Finders keepers. Focus.’
I worked the rune in my mind a moment before I painstakingly cast it, making sure it fit within the parameters of a sanctioned rune, not just me with my improvised, willy nilly motions.
I’d still resort to those if I had to, of course, but I wasn’t about to risk damaging the Weave without good reason.
’Cause yeah, that was a thing. Every unsanctioned rune cast cut into the Weave that stood between the Dwimmer world and Everdark – the place where the real monsters lived, a prison for rogue mages and otherworldly beasts, who wanted nothing more than to destroy everything in the other realms. Which sucked for me, because I’d been relying on my own, improvised versions of runes to cover for my struggle to read them the way others did for as long as I could remember.
It made me wonder how big a hole I’d created in the Weave.
My rune flared and flitted around, like a butterfly, before shooting out the window and going straight for the main hall of Heathermoor. I held the locket up so Calypso could watch the rune fly.
The rune smacked into the bright white stone wall, just above the main door, where it disappeared.
“Well, well, well,” Calypso murmured. “It is still here at Heathermoor somewhere. Easy peasy, as you Dwimmers say.”
Somehow, I knew that acquiring the coin wouldn’t be anything close to easy peasy.
I set the locket down.