Chapter 34 Taera
Taera
The hex wears off with a jolt. Nikolai’s cat ears disappear in a puff of green dust, and the marble bouncing across the wall explodes. I glance at Nikolai, then release his hand. When no itching terrorizes me, I leap away and rush to his bathing chambers to put some space between us.
I take my time washing myself again.
He didn’t tell me he could feel my emotions.
My mind spins through all of last night, and this morning, and I pinch my eyes shut. A wave of giddiness passes over me.
I scowl down at the clear water. I should be appalled by how I reacted this morning—I am appalled. And exhilarated. I burn with shame.
When I reemerge, the room is empty. I breathe a sigh of relief. There are still a few hours before classes. At least I think there are. The rotating, random schedule doesn’t seem to have any pattern to it.
I cross over to the bed, where I sit down. Even though the magician isn’t here, it feels illicit. Flipping the textbook open, I start doing the exercises.
I’m not someone who does things half-heartedly.
For the next hour, I throw myself into my new studies.
I start with the breathing exercises, then work my way up to stretching my body in all sorts of contorted positions, exhaling on strange counts, and attempting to move my magic from my right side to my left.
I make no progress, but I’d forgotten how much I enjoy committing my mind to something.
I could make a chart of which exercises to practice each day, follow that schedule, and according to the book, I should start seeing results within a week.
Then perhaps I’ll even be able to do interesting things with my magic, like—
What am I doing, enjoying this?
Just a few days ago, I was trying to escape. Now, a traitorous part of me actually wants to learn magic. What would Ezran or Gramps say? Gramps might not even be able to leave his bed anymore, just suffering, with no one to bring him tea. Do he and Ezran still have enough food?
There has to be a faster way to get back to them.
This book is meant for someone who has years to learn to control their magic.
And I’m getting sucked in by that fantasy, when what I really need is a quick and dirty way out.
Especially before I do something stupid like lower my guard against a magician.
Nikolai is adamant I can’t leave the Halls, but he has to know a way. He’s also obsessed with those two books. If they were the key to finding the Library of the Labyrinth, they must contain secrets of how to escape the Halls of Glass.
I trace my fingers along the walls of the room. He’s been hiding things, but where? I take a quick loop around his bathing chambers and finally find myself in front of his desk.
A pang of unease hits me.
Should I really be doing this? Nikolai has protected me—at least some of the time. We’ve just started to almost get along. He explicitly told me not to touch his desk.
Slowly, I back away, chewing the inside of my cheek. I don’t want to sabotage our precarious truce. I shouldn’t poke him unless I want to get stung. And if he told me to stay away from his desk, from his books, there’s probably a good reason.
Then I think of Ezran.
Of all the lies Nikolai has told me.
I pull open the obvious drawers first, running my hands along the insides this time, the joints, the undersides. I can’t trust my eyes. Maybe if I knew how to use my magic, I would be able to sense any hiding spots. The sides and back of the desk are smooth, and I crouch down to better—
“The fuck are you doing?”
I jolt upright, nearly hitting my head. Nikolai is standing in the doorway, arms rigid, green eyes blazing.
There’s no smirk.
Just anger.
Real, unfiltered anger.