Chapter 35 Taera
Taera
The lights flicker, throwing shadows across the room. Hard edges of blood glass gather outside the door before Nikolai yanks it shut. He advances on me, and his blue robes flare around him from an invisible wind.
I feel cold. Somehow, in the past week, I forgot to fear him.
“I—I…”
“Did I not make it clear enough”—he articulates every word—“not to touch my desk?”
“I needed paper,” I blurt, “to take notes.”
He scoffs, then leans in, breath warm against my ear. “False.”
I shudder. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Get caught?”
“Yes—No, but—”
“This is what’s going to happen.” Nikolai’s voice goes deadly quiet. He smiles wide, even as his hair crackles with static. “You will not leave your corner of the room, except to bathe or go to class.”
I try to swallow but my mouth has gone dry.
“Do you understand?”
Hardly breathing, I nod.
“In two and a half weeks, you will fail your exams and flunk down to first year where you belong.” He is eerily calm. “Understand?”
I nod again.
“There are secrets here that you don’t want to touch. Secrets even I can’t protect you from.” Nikolai steps closer to me—close enough I have to tilt my head up to meet those terrible green eyes. His voice emanates from all around me. “You can leave now.”
My legs feel like mud, my stomach dropping out. Is he kicking me out?
“You’ve dressed. You’ve bathed.” His tone is void of any of the warmth or politeness from this morning. “There’s no reason for you to be here again until evening.”
Something in my chest loosens. I’ll still have somewhere to sleep. But spending the rest of my days on my own… Where am I supposed to go?
“Get out,” he growls.
I jerk into motion, grabbing my textbook and scurrying for the door, which I yank open.
Jagged red crystals glare back at me like knives.
“You can wait here until it’s gone.” His voice is steel scraping stone.
The door to his bathing chambers slams shut as he disappears.
I lower my face into my hands and groan.
For one beautifully deceptive morning, things felt cordial between us.
Now the tension feels ready to crack like a whip.
Because of me. I wince, remembering the rage on Nikolai’s face when he looked at me.
Regret clogs my throat. Do I even regret snooping, though, or just getting caught? The answer makes me miserable.
I’m becoming more and more like him.
The blades of crimson glass at the door slowly shudder and retract, slinking away. When there’s no more blood glass, I leave.
I walk. And I walk. I stride down the hallway for what seems like forever, the walls unchanging. My skin prickles. What would Nikolai tell me? Walking quickly only slows you down, or something contradictory. I slow to an unhurried pace and whisper, “Please, take me where I need to go.”
A week here and I’m succumbing to superstition.
Up ahead, I hear voices, and my heart speeds. Did that actually work?
I hesitate. Last time this didn’t go well. But chiming laughter echoes down the hall, familiar. The weight on my chest lifts. I hurry forward, spotting the side passage first, and then red hair.
“Hey, Tae-tae!” Annie waves.
Omi peeks their head out from behind her. “Hey.”
Annie gives a low whistle. “What did you do? Jezebel’s pissed.”
My stomach sinks. “What did you hear?”
“That Niko left early with you and the two of you kissed in the labyrinth.”
“We didn’t kiss,” I say quickly. “But we were hexed and had to… hold hands.”
“Aww.” Annie grins. “That’s sweet. I need details.”
I try to shake my head, but Annie clasps my wrist with a purple-gloved hand and pulls me into a nook in the side of the corridor that reveals a bench.
“I know, I know.” Annie sighs. “In a place made of glass, it’s hard to find anywhere comfortable to sit. But I need to know everything.”
I grimace, but Annie keeps peppering me with questions. Finally, I spill what happened in the labyrinth. She’s practically vibrating to hear about my night with Nikolai, so I skip past the part about the library.
“…so we just slept, in his bed, holding hands until morning,” I say.
“That’s it?” Annie sounds upset.
“Well, there was this embarrassing moment where I said I wasn’t interested in him, but then the truth marble kept saying ‘false’…”
“That must have been a relic,” Omi murmurs. “Incredible.”
“A relic?” I ask.
“Lost magic,” Omi says.
“The Halls are full of the darn stuff,” Annie says dismissively. I look to Omi, instead.
“Amulets, talismans—even hybrids of the two. We can’t create them anymore.” Their voice is reverent. “The knowledge has been lost.”
“And he turned you invisible?” Annie cuts in.
“Only for a minute,” I mutter.
“A minute?” Omi’s eyes bulge, and they exchange a glance with Annie.
“That’s absurd,” the redhead says.
I try to ask another question, but Annie interrupts. “So you admitted you wanted to kiss him, and he still didn’t kiss you? That moron.”
Her single-mindedness makes me chuckle, even though talking about kissing him is the last thing I should be doing.
I turn to Omi. “So the labyrinth has all sorts of relics?”
“It’s hard to know.” They shrug. “The labyrinth is off-limits most of the time.”
“Why?” I ask. “What’s at its center?”
Omi grins. “No one even knows if there is a center.”
I frown; that’s what Nikolai said. But it doesn’t make sense for a maze to lead nowhere. Could the Library of the Labyrinth be its center, or something else entirely? Either way, it doesn’t sound like it’s going to be my way out of here.
“So, you’re into him, right?” Annie says. “Niko?”
I blink at her, then scowl, my heart pounding. “Absolutely not.”
She rolls her eyes, making my frown deepen.
“It probably feels complicated,” Omi says. “Especially with Niko.”
I nod. Close enough to he’s a fucking magician.
“He’s been with a lot of girls, right?” I ask. Yet another reason to stay away from him.
“That’s an understatement.” Annie snorts. “Magic… It comes in so many flavors. Every source is different. And you know what they say, the more compatible the magic, the more compatible the—”
“Annie.” Omi smiles. “Don’t scandalize her.”
My brow furrows. “I have a flavor?”
The redhead smirks. “I can’t get close enough to taste it without you frying me.”
“What she’s trying to say,” Omi says, “is that conduits tend to have any number of sources. And most sources want Niko.”
“Just don’t take it too hard when he loses interest,” Annie says, nodding somberly. “Also, rumor has it he’s already sworn himself to a source named Hazel. She must be a prodigy, to have stolen his heart.”
My stomach twists. My mouth tastes bitter as I mutter, “I see.”
Another thing he conveniently didn’t mention. The thought sickens me.
“C’mon.” Annie jumps to her feet, unaware of my inner torment. “Let’s get to class.”
She skips ahead, whistling, all bright energy and swinging hair. Her relentless cheerfulness dazes me. Omi and I follow behind.
“You okay?” Omi asks softly. “Because if you need anything…”
I take a shaky breath, determined not to let the whirlwind of emotions—or any of these magicians—overwhelm me. Instead, I ask the question that’s been nagging at me. “Why do you and Annie act nicely toward me? No one else does.”
“Well, she’s a powerful conduit, and you’re shaping up to be a powerful source, so…” Omi gives a wry smile. “And I’m low enough on magic that I’m no threat to anyone.”
“Oh.”
“You’re welcome to practice with me in class, if you like.” Omi glances at me.
“I can’t.” I sigh, remembering the angry green-eyed magician I have to work with. The one who already has a source he didn’t tell me about: Hazel.
“Oh, well, no worries,” they say.
But Omi might be able to expose other lies. I walk slower and we lag behind Annie. She’s sweet, but I don’t think she’ll stay quiet about anything.
“Omi?” I lower my voice. “What’s the Library of the Labyrinth?”
Concern flits across their features. “You’re dipping into dark legends. No one’s sure. Supposedly, it keeps dangerous books contained, ones that can’t be destroyed.”
A chill ripples up my skin. “What do you mean, ‘dangerous’?”
“Studying magic has its hazards.” Their voice is hushed. “It can drive illusionists mad.”
“I need to know more about the Halls, the labyrinth, the desert. How can I—”
“Tae-tae,” Annie calls back to us, pausing so we catch up.
Omi looks like they want to say something, but they stay silent.
Annie chirps up. “I forgot to mention the party in a few days. You should come!”
“I—” I laugh at how preposterous the idea is, how commonplace—in an absurd way. I will not attend a party with magicians. But Annie seems so utterly unaware of my aversion to magic, to the Halls, I find myself smiling. “Thanks… for the invitation.”
We arrive in the classroom, and I spot a familiar head of golden hair. I sigh, resigning myself to terrible, tense company.
Before I plod over to him, Omi touches my shoulder.
“We’ll talk again soon,” they say, a whisper of a smile on their lips.