Chapter 23
“Varrah!” I called as I made my way across the Dormitory courtyard through a throng of milling students.
Every bench was full, every stone archway of the colonnade filled with forms in student cloaks leaning against the stone columns.
Students perched on the edge of the fountain, despite the cold spray, and slowly wandered the cobblestone patio, anticipation pulsing through the crowd like a shared heartbeat.
Classes had adjourned early for the underclassmen.
Family Weekend had arrived.
“Varrah!” I called again. She stood alone at the far end of the short northern wing of the Dormitory, having stolen a slice of shade from the overhang. Despite the crowd, her classmates had given her plenty of space. Of…solitude.
“There you are!” I came to a stop at her side, and she seemed surprised to see me, despite the fact that I’d been calling her name.
Varrah gave me a quick hug, but her green-and-brown-eyed gaze returned quickly to the quadrangle, which opened up from one side of the Dormitory courtyard. Everyone’s attention was on the central lawn as students waited for a glimpse of their family members.
“Are your parents coming?” she asked softly, her bifurcated voice dancing eerily through my ears to tingle in the folds of my brain.
“Yes. I mean I hope so.” I tucked my arm around hers, drawing her close despite the chilly looks from some of her classmates, who had yet to warm up to her. “Well, my mother died when I was an adolescent. But my father and his husband have promised to attend, if at all possible.”
She turned away from the quadrangle to meet my gaze, her brows dipped low. “I’m sorry to hear about your mother. I didn’t know.”
I hugged her arm. “It was a long time ago now. What about you? Is your cousin coming?”
“Her letter said she would try, but that she was nervous to travel across Aethermere alone. Her husband cannot attend.”
I could only imagine how difficult a time her cousin might have with hired coach drivers and innkeepers who were set on edge by her voice.
“Well then, I hope she makes it, as I look forward to meeting her.”
“I—” Varrah suddenly stiffened. “Erikka!” She tore her arm from my grasp and launched herself across the grass and onto the quadrangle, where she threw herself into the arms of a woman with dark hair, ruddy cheeks, and…one eye that was dark blue, the other a pale green.
When the two women finally parted, Varrah tugged Erikka toward me. “Come meet Amber, my—”
“Friend,” I finished as I held out my hand. “You must be Varrah’s cousin. She speaks highly of you.”
Tension seemed to ease from the woman’s posture as her hand closed around mine. “Amber, it is an honor to meet you.”
We chatted for several minutes while I kept one eye trained upon the festival that had unfolded in the quadrangle, and when I spotted Wilder winding through the growing crowd, twirling his blade over and under the fingers of his right hand, I excused myself with a reminder for Varrah and her cousin to sample the tricolor punch.
I followed Wilder, veering around people, food stalls, and vendor booths, ignoring merchants calling out for me to try meat pies and grilled sausages or to test the flow rate on a “new” no-flame wax seal.
Wilder clearly had a goal in mind—I could hardly keep up with him—and I assumed he was headed for some favorite festival treat.
The frozen fruit vendor, maybe? I was curious about the alchemical process that could create ice in the middle of a sunny fall day. Or the cosmic grapes, which were coated in a sparkling syrup so that they resembled a sky full of stars?
Instead, Wilder sheathed his knife and disappeared behind a booth that sold novelty vials and beakers of every color. Those would have little use in true alchemy, because tinted glass disguised the color of its contents. And this glass was of poor quality, riddled with bubbles and uneven in places.
I peered into the booth, but when I looked disinclined to buy anything, the balding merchant gave me a polite goodbye, lifted the tarp at the rear of his stall, and ducked outside.
Dimly, I heard whispered voices, so I peeked around the back of the booth, where I found Wilder and the merchant quietly… haggling.
My appearance caught Wilder’s eye over the merchant’s shoulder, but he did not give away my presence.
An agreement was made, coins were exchanged, and Wilder stuffed something into his trouser pocket, beneath his cloak.
I ducked out of sight again, and the merchant returned to his booth. When Wilder reappeared, I fell into step with him. “What was that about?”
“Clearly you’ve caught me in a secret dalliance with a traveling vendor. I took one glance at his novelty glass and knew he would be skilled with his hands,” Wilder said, but the spark of amusement in his eyes was not enough to dispel the strained edge in his voice.
He was still hurt—maybe a little vexed—by the distance I’d maintained from him since I’d seen him flirting with Yoslyn.
“Funny.” I’d been trying for two days to find a good time—and a good way—to explain my jealousy. To ask if it was warranted. But every time I tried, my tongue froze up, as if the words made no sense. And he’d made no effort to defend himself. “You bought something from that vendor.”
“You are mistaken. I—”
I pretended to trip, and when he steadied me, I slid my hand beneath his cape and into his pocket, where my fingers closed around what felt like a wad of parchment. Triumphant, I pulled it out, and…
Wilder grabbed me by the waist and spun me behind a booth and out of sight of most of the crowd, in a move that no doubt looked like lovers stealing a moment alone.
But irritation was clear in the tight line of his jaw. “Amber,” he snapped softly, reaching for my hand.
I backed out of his reach, studying the bundle of well-produced strips of parchment. They were of a distinctive and familiar size and shape—thin, but sturdy, and cut so that they would spiral around three-quarters of a vial rather than sitting perfectly horizontal.
“These are the labels you use for your…business,” I whispered. “How fancy—”
“Yes. And Family Weekend has saved me a two-day carriage ride to retrieve them. Now, if you don’t mind, this is not the only business I’m hoping to accomplish before—”
“Wilder! Amber! There they are!” a familiar woman’s voice called.
Wilder groaned. Then he forced a smile as his gaze found something beyond my shoulder. “Mother!”
With a deft move, he waved, then lowered his hand to snatch the labels from me and shove them back into his pocket even as he spun me by my elbow.
Jon and Annora Gregory were headed straight toward us from one side of Conservatory, and the angle of their path had given them a glimpse of us that most of the crowd lacked.
“Whatever are you two doing back there?” Wilder’s mother called as a breeze ruffled the thin, translucent veil draped over her dark blond bun.
“My love, you should not ask questions we might not want answered…” her husband scolded amiably as his assessing gaze roamed from Wilder’s face to mine, which suddenly felt warm.
Wilder had his mother’s fair, golden coloring and a lighter, clearer version of her blue-gray eyes, while Desmond took after their father, with his larger build, dark hair and eyes, and deeper skin tone. But both sons had inherited the shape of their mother’s nose and their father’s broad jaw.
It felt odd, looking at the Gregorys and suddenly seeing Desmond and Wilder in them, as if nature had made a game of selecting from their features. As a child, I’d never contemplated their resemblance to their parents. Or to each other.
Though I could not remember the past two years of my life, it felt like ages since I’d seen Wilder’s parents, and having them at the Alchemary was particularly jarring.
Especially considering the new webbing at the corners of Annora’s eyes and the gray at Jon’s temples.
I might not remember the passage of time, but I could certainly feel and see its effects.
“Amber!”
I sucked in a breath as an even more familiar, and very welcome, form stepped out from behind Jon Gregory. “Martyn!”
“My darling!” My stepfather rushed forward to envelop me in a clove-scented hug, his slim-cut tunic flaring over snug, dark trousers. “I’m so delighted to see you!”
“And I, you!” I squeezed him tight, then let him go, unable to temper my broad smile. “Where is my father?”
His face fell slightly. “I’m sorry to say he could not make it.
He’s working on a project in the south, and it has run long.
But I am delighted to see how disappointed you look, and I shall describe this moment to him in great detail.
” He leaned forward to whisper into my ear, “Your father has sent along a letter for you.” He pressed a folded sheet of parchment into my hand, and I noted my father’s seal.
“How kind of you to deliver it.” I slid the note into my pocket. “Did you travel with the Gregorys?”
“Indeed. Jon and Annora were kind enough to offer me a seat in their carriage.”
“Martyn is delightful company!” Annora declared. “And he kept us stuffed with a variety of pastries.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve brought some for you both as well,” Martyn said with a wink at me and a smile at Wilder, who looked distinctly uncomfortable at having been located by our families. “Now, you must give me a tour of this stunning campus!”