I sit there, demoralized, watching Tierney as she works.
“I hope you fast to Lukas,” Tierney says as she stirs at the purple liquid, adjusting the flame by a fraction. She speaks so low, I’m sure I’ve heard her incorrectly.
I lean in toward her, mystified. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
Tierney measures out some thistle oil and adds it to the liquid, the deep purple quickly morphing to indigo and sending up a sour, lemony scent. “I hope Fallon sees you two together,” she whispers as she stirs, “and I hope it rips out whatever shred of a heart she has left in her vile body.”
I blink at her, thrown and at a loss for words.
Ignoring me, she keeps working, methodically and efficiently measuring out ingredients and monitoring the flames.
“I never properly introduced myself, and it was rude of me,” I tell her, extending my hand, feeling dazed with surprise. “I’m Elloren Gardner. Which, of course, you already know.”
She glances over, shooting me an incredulous look. She does not take my hand, but she does move over a fraction, as if deciding to share an edge of her web after all.
“You prepare the powders,” she says grudgingly. “I’ll keep an eye on the distillate.”
I go to work, grinding up burdock root with a stone pestle, quickly and effortlessly rendering it to fine powder.
After class ends, I remain behind, scouring out glass retorts with a thin wire brush, my aching hands quickly caked with oily residue. My stomach rumbles and clenches, adding to the thick knots of tension already there, fatigue beginning to drag me down. I’ve never gotten so little sleep, and it’s making me brittle and edgy.
I look up as a small, corked jar sealed with wax is slid in front of me.
“Goldenseal liniment,” Tierney says, pointing to the jar then gesturing along her hollowed-out cheek with a frown. “It will clear up the bruising on your face.”
I blink up at her, surprised. “Thank you.”
She spits out a laugh, her homely face scrunching up into a grim frown. “It’s not because I like you,” she scoffs. “I just want you to be pretty. Prettier than her.” Tierney’s expression grows darker. “I want her to lose. I hate her. And I want you to win Lukas Grey.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Shards of Ice
After I finish my lab scut work, I leave with a small box of medicinal vials tucked under one arm, under orders from the Lead Apprentice to deliver them to the University infirmary.
As I approach the Physicians’ Guildhall, I slow, finding myself transfixed by the sight of the Astronomy Guildhall’s domed observatory. It dawns on me that here, at University, I might get the chance to see the moon and constellations close-up. It’s enough to lift my bedraggled spirit.
I glance down at the box of vials and back up at the dome, making a split-second decision.
What harm can it do just to have a peek?
*
The observatory’s ceiling is adorned with a breathtaking depiction of the major constellations, highlighted by a blue that swirls so dramatically it almost gives me vertigo. The floor is marked with a giant compass rose, and telescopes encircle the deserted room, evenly spaced in front of huge, arching windows. A panoramic view of the Northern and Southern Spines lit golden by the setting sun takes my breath away.
A tremor of excitement courses through me as I run my hand along the length of one of the smooth, black-lacquered instruments.
My elation is quickly cut short as Fallon Bane sweeps into the observatory, flanked by four Gardnerian military apprentices and, behind them, her military guard.
Former thoughts of bravado instantly forgotten, I shrink back behind the telescope, my heart speeding, praying that Fallon doesn’t spot me.
“I can’t believe they’ve got you rooming with the Lupine bitch,” a thin-nosed apprentice crows as Fallon claims the next telescope over.
“She won’t be here long.” Fallon sits down on the windowsill’s edge, her ebony wand gleaming at her waist. “She seems easily provoked.”
“Are you trying to provoke her, then?” The young man seems amused by Fallon’s daring.
“I enjoy provoking anyone who doesn’t belong here.” Fallon glances at the nails of one hand as if bored. “Lupine bitches, Snake Elves...” She looks straight at me.
Reflexively, I slouch farther behind the scope.
Fallon’s mouth turns up in a wicked smirk. “Well, if it isn’t Mage Elloren Gardner.”
I force myself up, struggling not to be cowed by her.
“Enjoying your new roommates?” Fallon jibes.
Anger flares within me. “Not as much as I’m enjoying spending time with Lukas Grey,” I reply evenly, surprising myself with my audacity—and my overwhelming stupidity.
The young men surrounding Fallon go quiet and wide-eyed.
There’s a flash of murderous rage in her eyes, but Fallon quickly collects herself. She sniffs the air, her lovely nose crinkling. “You smell vile,” she tells me with a mocking smile. “Like an Icaral.”
The young men smirk, a laugh bursting from the thin-nosed apprentice. One of the other apprentices grimaces and waves the air in front of his face to more chuckling.
I surreptitiously inhale and realize Fallon’s right. Some of Ariel’s foul odor clings to my clothing.
Not only do I have to live with Icarals, but now I smell like them, too.
My face heats as Fallon revels in my humiliation, and my temper flares, making me reckless. “Well, at least my stench is a temporary situation, unlike Lukas’s disinterest in you.”
Fallon gapes at me as she coughs out a stunned laugh, her hand grasping her wand.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. My heart hammers out. Have you lost your mind?
Fallon turns to her companions. “She’s a mouthy one, isn’t she?” She pins me with her gaze, her eyes flicking toward the young men then back to me. “She’d make a nice ice sculpture, don’t you think?” A rancid venom is creeping into the edges of her tone. “It would cure both the stink and her...mouth.”
Incensed, I glare back at her. “It’s against Gardnerian law to threaten another Mage with magic.”
She spits out a jeering laugh. “Oh, you’re barely a Mage.” She looks me over with disgust. “Level One, isn’t it? Your family must be so proud.” She’s smiling jovially, but there’s an off-kilter rage in her eyes that shoots a chill clear up my spine.
I’m starting to wonder if my constant sleep deprivation is seriously compromising my judgment. A Level One mouthing off to a Level Five. With two Level Five brothers.
Smart move, Elloren.
Fallon pointedly turns her back to me, focusing again on the young men vying for her attention. Scholars begin to filter in, followed by the class’s long-bearded Gardnerian professor, and I make my escape.
I rush down the stairs and through the building’s dim hallways.
In my haste, I take a wrong turn and quickly find myself lost and disoriented in a deserted part of the building, paintings of the night sky on the dark walls illuminated by torchlight. Hearing voices around a bend up ahead, I start forward.
The ground beneath me suddenly becomes unbelievably slick, my feet scrambling until I completely lose my footing. I fall forward against a stone wall, my books and papers scattering everywhere, the box of medicinal vials crashing to the ground in a shower of broken glass and pungent odor. My hands slap the floor with a cold sting, and I find, to my astonishment, that I’m lying on solid ice.
I lift my head and wrench myself around to see Fallon leaning against a wall, regarding me with a satisfied grin as she twirls her ebony wand between dexterous fingers.
“So, that’s it?” I spit out foolishly. “Your incredible Level Five powers? Frozen ink and a thousand and one ways to trip people?”
She lifts her wand in the air and murmurs something unintelligible as she watches me like a hawk zeroed in on its prey. Something translucent appears, hovering next to her head on both sides.