“This is completely unacceptable,” the Lupine female is saying to Professor Volya, her voice all haughty arrogance. “Why can I not partner with my brother?”
Professor Volya is staring daggers at her with coal-black eyes, and I’m sure that look would make most people back down. She’s very intimidating—almost a head taller than the Lupines and of a solid, strong build. Her numerous piercings and heavily rune-marked face only add to the effect.
“Diana,” she says through gritted teeth, “you and your brother will not become integrated here if you only speak with each other.”
Diana places one hand on her hip, swings her lustrous blond hair over her shoulder and lifts her chin. “What if he’s the only person here worth speaking to?”
Professor Volya pulls herself up to her full height and looms over Diana.
“Miss Ulrich, this is my class, and I will run it as I see fit.” She grabs the papers from her Elfhollen assistant and scans them, her mouth a tight, unforgiving line. “Well,” she announces, “our numbers are reduced, which will allow us to move at a faster pace.” She glares over at the Lupines. “Diana Ulrich,” she says in a deep tone that brooks no argument. “Your research partner will be Mage Elloren Gardner, and Jarod Ulrich, you will partner with Mage Aislinn Greer.”
Aislinn’s eyes go wide, her obvious terror dwarfing my own shock. She opens her mouth to say something, but seems unable to speak. Instead, she stands stone-still, her mouth agape as the Elfhollen points toward a pair of adjacent tables in the back row.
Jarod Ulrich is watching Aislinn very closely with fierce eyes, his expression unreadable, and I think I see his nostrils flare. I feel alarmed, but at the same time, I remember how kind he was—how he helped me up when Fallon tripped me.
I walk back to my assigned table, sympathetic stares following me as I go. Diana plops down on the stool next to me with an annoyed huff, like someone forced to entertain fools. I watch Aislinn as Jarod takes his seat next to her. She’s gone rigid with tension.
Professor Volya opens a large text and begins to read from it.
Watching him out of the corner of my eye, I see Jarod glance over at Aislinn every now and then, his brow slightly furrowed. Aislinn continues to focus straight ahead, her hands clasped so tight her knuckles are white.
Partnered with a Lupine male. This isn’t good.
I turn to my own partner. She’s glaring at Professor Volya, her face tight with irritation.
She’s arrogant, this girl. But her brother was kind to me. Maybe these Lupines aren’t as bad as they’re made out to be. It’s not ideal to be forced together like this, but perhaps it makes sense to make the best of things and try to get along.
“I’m Elloren Gardner,” I whisper to Diana, holding out a hand for her to shake, eager to get the awkward introductions out of the way.
She turns to me, seeming affronted, then glances down at my outstretched hand quizzically, as if she doesn’t quite know what to do with it. She flicks her hair proudly over one shoulder and stands up to face me, her chair screeching loudly along the floor as she does so. She clears her throat ceremoniously. “I am Diana Ulrich of the Gerwulf Pack,” she announces quite loudly. “Daughter of the Alpha, Gunther Ulrich, and his wife, the healer Daciana Ulrich, sister of Jarod Ulrich and Kendra Ulrich, paternal granddaughter of...”
Professor Volya stops lecturing, one long black eyebrow cocked with surprise. I want to crawl under the table. Diana Ulrich goes on and on through three generations, like a queen reciting her noble lineage, until her brother interrupts her, his voice low.
“Diana.”
She turns to look at him, annoyed at the interruption. “What?”
“They don’t do that here.”
“Do what?”
“Establish ancestry as a greeting.”
She blinks at him. “Why ever not?” she finally says, clearly appalled.
“It’s just not their custom.”
She folds her arms in front of her chest and huffs at him.
“Besides,” he whispers, gesturing to the front of the room where Professor Volya stands menacingly still as if she’s contemplating the most expeditious way to murder Diana. “We should probably pay attention now.”
“Why?” Diana asks like a spoiled child.
“Because,” he says, raising his eyebrows at her meaningfully, “lecture has started.”
Diana frowns at Professor Volya and then at everyone else before finally plopping back down into her seat next to me. Professor Volya shoots her one more stern look before focusing in on the rest of us and resuming her lecture on distillation techniques.
I’m surprised when Diana turns to me and starts whispering. “I have already read this book,” she complains stridently. “I do not need to listen to her rehash it. It is a waste of my time!”
I don’t know what to say. Besides, it’s so hard to resist staring at her flashing amber eyes. The color is mesmerizing.
“The forest is beautiful today, is it not?” she says wistfully, looking toward the line of windows and the orange-and-gold-tipped trees beyond. She sighs longingly. “I love how the trees smell this time of year. And the dried leaves, so sweet. I wish I could be out there now. Such a day for hunting. Do you hunt, Elloren Gardner?”
“No,” I reply, still trying to get my mind around the fact that I have a wolf-shifter for a research partner. “But my older brother, Rafe, does.”
“Does he?” she asks, seeming curious.
“He’s an excellent archer,” I whisper. “Do you have a bow?”
Diana laughs at this, a little too loud, causing Professor Volya to shoot her a quick, irritated look. “I don’t need a bow,” she says, grinning incredulously.
“What do you hunt with, then?” I ask.
She fixes her wild amber eyes on me. “My teeth.” She smiles widely, displaying her long, white, glistening canines. The hairs on the back of my neck go up in alarm.
“Oh,” I say, swallowing nervously. “You mean when you turn into a wolf?”
“Not necessarily,” she says, still smiling dangerously.
Holy Ancient One in the Heavens above.
I gulp and turned back to face the front of the room.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Tierney Calix
I enter the main teaching area of the Apothecary Guildhall breathless, having raced here from Chemistrie. To my dismay, the wooden lab tables filling the long, low-ceilinged room are already populated by pairs of young women hard at work chopping and mashing ingredients, the hiss of steam distillations and the low gurgle of boiling liquid soft on the air.
It reminds me loosely of the Chemistrie laboratory, the walls and tables covered with glass jars, vials and distillation retorts. But here flinty, sulfurous smells do not dominate the room. Instead, there’s an all-encompassing, earthy scent, deeply rooted in the forest realm, the containers surrounding me stocked with dried herbs and flowers, powdered bark and wood. My apprehension is tempered as I take in the rich scents, separating them out one by one in my mind—pine sap, birch ashes, cedar shavings. Bunched herbs hang from the ceiling, as well. I breathe deep, detecting nettlewood, briarsweet and black-cherry leaves.
Something inside me settles, contentment washing over me. Unfortunately, that feeling is short-lived, as I catch the eye of a furious-looking young woman storming in my direction.
“You’re late,” she chides me angrily, and I immediately panic at the sight of the gold pendant of a Lead Apprentice dangling from her necklace. Two scholars standing at a nearby lab table mirror her contemptuous glare. Society girls, all three of them, wearing finely embroidered silks under their long black lab aprons.
“I’m so sorry. There was a situation...with a Lupine...”