Chapter 38
In dreams, nothing is forgotten.
ANONYMOUS
The tea did nothing to warm the cold place inside me. I huddled under a blanket on the sofa in the Unwoven quarters, surrounded by my friends and overlooked by a shaken Vitra.
Selina had lived in my room in Bramble Tower, not because she’d been Unwoven, but because she’d been unwanted.
Bullied and shunned for being bright, she’d asked to continue to be housed in Bramble for solitude.
Her parents were dead, and she’d been raised by an aunt on her father’s side, who’d been happy to give her up to the Evergreen coven when they’d come looking for a conscript to save their pureblood children from having to attend Nightsbridge.
“Someone murdered that girl,” Clary muttered. “Someone here at this Academy killed her, buried her, and made everyone forget.”
“She was a quiet thing,” Dori said. “Studious. I always thought she had so much potential.”
“I spoke to her a few times,” Clary added. “I should have asked her to hang out.”
“But who killed her and why?” I couldn’t stop thinking about it. “I saw a hooded figure in my dreams. I felt her fear.”
“And why you?” Clary asked. “Why did you dream about her? Why could you remember her name?”
“I may be able to answer that,” Vitra said.
“Miss Onyx came to the Academy after the spell that wiped Miss Evergreen from collective memory was cast. Therefore, it didn’t affect her.
She was also staying in Miss Evergreen’s former chambers.
I believe the spirit of Miss Evergreen was able to reach out to her because of those reasons, and maybe…
Maybe part of Miss Onyx’s Weave abilities are necromantic. ”
“A Morbus Arcanus? No, thank you.”
The Morbus Arcanus were rare. Their connection to the spirit thread of the Weave gave them not only necromantic abilities but also allowed them to walk through the land of the spirits. They often went mad, as the boundary between the living and the dead blurred.
“You can rest easy—this matter will be looked into as a priority,” Vitra assured us.
A girl was dead. A girl who’d lived in my room.
Find me… Her tormented face filled my mind. Was she at peace now? If I were her, I wouldn’t be. Not until my murderer was discovered and brought to justice. “You need to do more than look into it. You have to find the bastard who did this.”
Vitra’s jaw tensed. “The Coterie will ensure the safety of the students.”
“Like you ensured Selina’s?” Dori said.
“And what about the non-aggression wards?” Benedict asked. “How come someone was able to kill on campus?”
“I don’t know,” Vitra said. “But I will find out. The Coterie will meet with representatives of the Imperium Alius to discuss a way forward. New protocols will be put into place.” He headed for the door and stopped.
“Oh, and you should know—I spoke to Pip about why the doors to your quarters were left unlocked the other night. He claims he locked them. I believe him, which means someone else unlocked them. We think the culprit is Mr. Raichand.”
Raichand? “The radio guy?”
“Yes. He must have unlocked the doors again tonight.”
Because he’d wanted me to get hurt sleepwalking. Bastard!
“That doesn’t explain why we were incapacitated the other night,” Benedict said. “He’s an Embercrest, right? Does he have that spell?”
Dori shrugged. “No idea.”
“I’ll be speaking to Mr. Raichand tomorrow,” Vitra said. “I will get answers before he is appropriately reprimanded. In the meantime, your doors will continue to be locked.”
But I didn’t think I’d be sleepwalking again. “I think Selina got what she needed. She’s been remembered.”
He pressed his lips together and sighed. “Yes. Tomorrow, Nightsbridge will wake to the memory of a girl long forgotten. Tomorrow, Nightsbridge will mourn.”
* * *
Restoration Day dawned bright and sunny despite the chill.
While Nightsbridge planned a memorial for the student they’d forgotten for the past eight months, my friends and I made our way into the atrium for the ceremony that would return their connection to the Weave and where, hopefully, my journey toward assimilation would begin.
The atrium was hidden inside a huge domed building that sat behind Trinity Tower. With its many tall windows and a partial glass roof, it was designed to let in both sun and moonlight, elements essential to many Arcanus spells and rituals.
I’d passed this building several times in the past few weeks, always pausing to admire the white stone statues that framed the doorway.
Two women wearing flowing robes, arms outstretched toward a stone bust of another woman, which was set above the doors.
All three looked upward, their faces serene and expressionless.
There was something compelling about the figures that had me stop and stare each time. So now, as Heidi Embercrest led us up the steps to the sanctum, I took a moment to get a closer look.
The statue to my left had something wrapped around her arm.
A slender ribbon or thread? No irises had been etched into the stone for her eyes, but I got the impression they were still open.
The one to the right had no irises either.
Like the figure on the left, she reached up toward the bust above the door with one hand, her other held at her side, fingers folded so that only the index and middle finger were on display, as if she were indicating the number two.
The bust above the door had no arms, but it did have irises that stared upward. I’d asked Dori who the statues were, and she’d had no idea. Just statues, she’d said. But the tightening at my nape as I passed them now told me different.
Heidi pushed open the heavy wooden doors and strode into the building. “Come along,” she said.
The room beyond was marble-tiled, filled with glass and sunlight, flowers, and fountains of running water. The air was thick with a floral aroma that struggled to mask the acrid scent of magic. Magic that hummed in the air in greeting. It pricked my skin in welcome, urging me to come forward.
My body reacted with yearning anticipation, just like it had to the wards at the Border House. Excitement and nerves held hands and danced in my belly.
Heidi led us to a beautifully carved rosewood wheel, balanced horizontally on a stone plinth in the center of the room. Arcane symbols and images I’d never seen before were etched into the wood. They seemed to shift and move beneath the buttery sunlight.
“Place your hands on the wheel,” Heidi instructed. “It represents the eternal cycle of creation. The infinite power of the Weave.”
Dori was the first to oblige, and we all followed suit. A gentle buzz kissed my fingers when I made contact, and my stomach contracted. I blew out a shaky breath and smiled across at Dori, who dropped me a reassuring wink.
“The Weave gives, and the Weave takes,” Heidi said, her voice echoing eerily around us.
“But here, at Nightsbridge, we do not tolerate the abuse of power. One infraction, and you may be marked and forgiven. Two, and you may be marked and forgiven. A third time and you will be Weaver-Marked. But abuse your power a fourth time, and you will be Unraveled.”
My gaze flitted to Benedict, who’d gone decidedly pale. He was on his second infraction after all.
“Ironhart, you have been twice warned,” Heidi confirmed. “Be wary.” Benedict gulped and nodded. “And now, your marks will be taken, and your power returned. For you, Anamaya, this is the lifting of the veil. It may feel odd, but don’t be afraid.”
I nodded. “I’m ready.”
She began to chant words in a tongue I didn’t know. But the wood beneath my fingers warmed, and the symbols began to glow. The air at the center of the wheel rippled, and a sleek blue cat materialized. Clary’s eyes lit up at the sight, her face breaking into a huge smile. “Mimi!”
A familiar? Clary’s familiar.
Mimi leapt lightly off the wheel and onto Clary’s shoulder, curling her small body around Clary’s neck before nuzzling her face to her cheek. Clary giggled. “I missed you, too.”
“You may step back, Tavona,” Heidi said.
Clary released the wheel and took a step back.
Heidi began to chant again, and once more the wheel heated, symbols shifting and moving across its surface until the center shimmered and a white cat appeared.
The black patches on its fur resembled a waistcoat and tie.
Larger than the blue cat, it glared at everyone before padding over to Dori, bumping her arm with his head, then leaping off the wheel as if to say, come on then.
Dori rolled her eyes. “Someone is in a mood.”
Heidi stopped chanting and nodded at Dori, who released the wheel and joined Clary a few feet away.
“Come on, Mr. Twiggins,” Dori called.
Mr. Twiggins ignored her in favor of grooming his paws. This cat had attitude—much like his mistress.
Heidi started up her chant again, and this time my hand began to tingle.
A pricking sensation traveled up my arm, the pressure and sharpness almost…
uncomfortable. A memory from a long time ago filled my mind, the feeling of a dead leg waking up.
Pins and needles! Wait…what was happening?
Was this real? Did I have pins and needles in my arm?
I mean, I could feel them. The prick and stab and… Oh Trinity!
Panic warred with exhilaration, leaving me dizzy.
The center of the wheel shimmered, and a figure began to form.
“What is that?” Benedict said, frowning.
He was a sorcerer like me. We didn’t get familiars…so what was manifesting?
The form solidified into a huge black bird with a thick, powerful beak, and my pulse quickened.
A rook.
Heidi gasped and stared at me wide-eyed.
The rook cocked its head and fixed a beady eye on me. “Hello, Anamaya. It’s good to finally meet you in the flesh.”
I opened my mouth to speak, to ask what the fuck was going on, when the warmth in my arm turned to a searing heat.
It burned.
It hurt.
In the next moment, the heat shot up my arm and slammed into my chest.
My scream filled the world as the Weave blessed me with the return of pain.
* * *
VITRA
Purina glides into my chamber and slithers onto my bed, her sleek, scaly form gleaming in the overhead light.
“You called, Masssster?”
I finish binding my hair and pull on a shirt. “I did. I need you to deliver a message.”
“Of coursssse.” She lifts her serpentine head and inclines it in deference. “It will take time. A few dayssss, if not more.”
“I know how long the journey is.”
“Very well…”
She waits patiently as I craft the message that must be sent, then recite it for her. “The sage spoke true. I believe the key is among us.”
Purina glides away, vanishing into the walls with my message. A message that should be so much more. But not yet. Not until I’m certain.
Because our only hope of salvation is also the key to our downfall.
“Anamaya, Anamaya, what am I to do with you?”