Chapter Thirty-Three
THIRTY-THREE
Professor Kroff finds me before class starts, which turns out to be a good thing, but is also a hindrance to the itching urge I have to push past him and slide into my seat beside Xavier who is now looking at me questioningly.
One of his brows rises as Kroff guides me just outside the door by the elbow.
‘Is everything all right, professor?’ I ask.
‘Everything is fine, Miss Nocthare. I just wanted to let you know I thought a lot about your request, and I’ve decided I think it’s a good idea.’
‘My request?’
‘For you and Mr Davis,’ he adds, looking at me like I’m an idiot. ‘The crystals you asked for.’
Right! I almost forgot about that.
‘Yes! Of course. When can we collect them?’
He chuckles. ‘You’re mistaken. I’m not handing over crystals like those to two first years. I have placed them with your Elemental professor. She will let you handle them during class hours, and you are to return them back to her at the end of each lesson.’
My excitement deflates. I was hoping to get unlimited access to them, that way we could practise anytime we wanted.
I try to hide my disappointment with a tight-lipped smile. ‘Thank you. I appreciate the help, professor.’
When I eventually make it back into the classroom and slide in beside Xavier, I tell him the news about the crystals first. He’s excited at the prospect of seeing if they can help bring out his element.
I know he’s been practising a lot with a few students from his unit.
I’m glad he has other friends to help him; he deserves it after what he’s been through, that’s for sure.
Kroff gets right into the lesson, kicking off with tag locks and how we can use someone’s hair, nail clippings or even their blood to create a link between them and magic.
At first it sounds disgusting. The thought of carrying around someone’s nail clippings – no thank you!
But as he continues to explain its many uses, I find myself growing increasingly fascinated.
‘So, if I were attempting a difficult spell, I could use this person’s tag lock to draw energy from if I needed it?’ an Opal girl asks from the front of the class.
‘Correct. Of course, that is not what we will be doing this morning, as that requires each person to be very skilled in spell magic. Not to mention taking too much of one’s own energy can be life threatening, and none of you have that control inside of you yet.
So, instead, I will be teaching you all to create a simple protection tag lock. ’
‘How many kinds of tag locks are there?’ the same girl asks.
‘It depends on what your intention is. Your tag lock doesn’t have to be connected to a person, it could be an animal or a place, like your home.
You could, for instance, take a stone from the wall of your house and bind a protection spell to it through that link.
They are also used for scrying, which I’m sure some of you will be learning about soon in your Divination lessons. ’
He goes on to answer a few more questions about tag locks before he walks around the room with a pair of scissors and a bundle of thread. He sets them down on the table between pairs. The thread Xavier and I get is royal blue.
‘Sir?’ I ask, hesitantly. ‘What are the scissors for?’
He looks back at me as he’s mid-way through pulling a ball of thread on a student’s desk. ‘Your hair, Miss Nocthare.’
I try not to gape down at the shiny pair of scissors. My hands find the end of my braid hanging over my shoulder.
Kroff carries on, explaining that the most important thing about tag locks is remembering our ethical responsibilities. If someone trusts you with a piece of themselves, there needs to be a great amount of care and respect for that individual.
He tells us to make sure the person we are partnered with is someone we trust. If it’s not, or we’re sitting beside someone we don’t know, we can make it for ourselves.
‘I trust you,’ I tell Xavier, and it might be the most honest thing I’ve ever said.
He smiles softly. ‘I trust you too.’
Kroff claps his hands, an order to get to work. I snip off about an inch from the end of my braid then adjust the hair band up. Xavier turns to me and asks me to find a spot that won’t look like a chunk is missing.
I feel bad cutting his hair, it’s so floppy and soft, but I find a thick section at the back and snip off about the same amount as I did for my own hair. We begin to weave the hair into the thread to make a bracelet.
As we’re sitting together, knee to knee, I glance around quickly to make sure no one is listening before finally asking Xavier my pressing question.
‘So, I have a favour to ask you, and I need you to understand that it’s a big favour, and I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate.’
‘Whatever it is, I’ll do it. Unless it’s carrying around your piss or toenails in a jar.’ He lifts his bracelet, if it can even be called one; it’s barely held together. ‘I’m not doing that.’
I snort. ‘No, nothing like that. Yet.’
He shudders. ‘Go on, what is it?’
‘I need you to get me into the restricted area of the library in Agate.’
Xavier drops his ball of thread. I reach out and catch it for him before depositing it back on his lap and continuing to thread my bracelet, trying not to make us look suspicious.
‘If it’s too much to ask, just—’
‘No, it’s not that, it’s just …’ he looks around. ‘What is it for?’
‘My brother,’ I whisper. Then dive into what Lillian told me in my room and how I found myself in the Grand Hall, wondering what the magic he supposedly used was for. If I can find out what spell was being cast, then maybe things will start to make a little more sense.
‘When and how are you wanting to do this?’ he asks, handing me his bracelet to tie off at the end after I successfully finished mine.
‘I was thinking we could go down there while everyone is celebrating Imber Stellarum.’ In my head, the plan makes sense.
‘Everyone will be busy with the celebration. There shouldn’t be anyone down in the library at the time.
We get in and get out as fast as possible and between the two of us we can spread out and look for information faster than with only one set of eyes. ’
Xavier hums in thought. ‘That could work. The main ceremony will be outside in between the Training Centre and the cliff side. If we skip it, that should give us at least an hour to get down there and look around before everyone starts to come back.’
‘An hour, do you think that’s enough time?’
‘Maybe,’ he says before his eyes travel past me, to the empty seat where the third member of our trio usually sits. ‘Though three sets of eyes might be better.’
Sweat beads at my temples as I attempt one more set of press ups.
My arms shake with the effort of pushing myself back up again.
I feel a trail of sweat trickle down my sternum and into the thin tank top I’m wearing.
It is much too late to be doing this, but I had another nightmare last night.
Once again, I was trapped in that never -ending fog, only this time, I reached the archway and heard that strange far away voice again.
But the second I put my palms to the stone, I was pushed all the way back to the start of the dream and catapulted into an endless loop of running for the gate, touching it and never being able to escape.
My plan tonight is to exert myself so much that hopefully I’ll be so exhausted and sleep so deeply, that my brain won’t have the energy to create a prison dream. That’s what I’m calling that place now. It’s endless and slightly terrifying.
As my chest brushes the floor, I exhale and grit my teeth, then push myself up. Once, twice, three times with a sharp short breath in between each one.
I’ve been meaning to ask Tilly if she could try to decipher what my dreams might mean.
I know she’s had her fair share of reoccurring ones, but I completely forgot today.
I tell myself I’ll do three more press ups and then I’m done.
I can’t recall how long I’ve been down here exercising myself into exhaustion, all I know is that I’m sticky with sweat and I feel simply minutes away from sprawling out on the floor and sleeping with the dust balls.
I’m just about to start back up again when I hear the lock of my door unclicking. I pause, then quickly spin my body around into a sitting position, expecting Lillian to waltz on in. The door opens but it’s Sebastian’s dark head of hair that appears through the gap.
‘Zain? You’re back.’ I’m out of breath.
His green eyes flick to my bed, presumably where he expects to find me. But upon realising my voice didn’t come from that direction, his gaze falls to where I’m sat, on the floor.
I watch in equal parts fascination and confusion as he trails his gaze up my body.
From my bare feet, along my exposed legs and thighs, to the pair of black shorts I’m wearing until he finally reaches my face.
My skin breaks out in goosebumps as I feel his gaze lingering on my skin well after it’s gone.
‘Why are you on the floor?’ He walks over to the bed roll and dumps a black bag beside it, before shrugging off the jacket he’s wearing and hanging it by the bathroom door as if he’s done this a hundred times.
‘I-I couldn’t sleep,’ I answer honestly. ‘Um, where’s Lillian?’
‘She asked for the night off. Said she needs to sleep in her own bed tonight.’ He crouches down and starts rifling through the bag.
Oh. I hope my nightmares haven’t been keeping her awake at night.
While he does that, I shift into a cross-legged position as I observe him.
I note how messy his hair is, the curls at the nape of his neck sticking out in every direction.
There are dark rings under his eyes that seem to deepen when he turns away from the light the lanterns cast on the walls.
He looks exhausted. Do they get to sleep at the camp they travelled to?
He was only gone for one night, yet he looks like he’s been gone for days.
‘I see you’ve been assaulting the door thoroughly,’ he says as he pulls what looks to be a leather belt out of his bag.
My eyes wander over to my door, where there are dozens of cracks in the thick wood.
Many, many more than the ones on the bathroom door.
All compliments to the dagger beneath my pillow.
I’ve been practising every chance I get and I’m happy to say that most of the cracks are inside the target I drew. I’m getting better, more precise.
‘I thought I’d get as much use out of it before you came back and rendered me defenceless again.’
‘I never said I’d leave you defenceless. I said I’d have to get you another one.’ He makes his point by pulling out a dagger from his bag and holding it out between us. Leaving me not defenceless, but speechless.