Four sharp, icy stakes streak toward my face, catching my hair as they impale themselves through the stone wall behind me with a sickening crack.
Terrified, I tug away from the icicles, some of my hair pulling out of my scalp as I do so.
Fallon twirls her wand, the corner of her mouth turning up. “We don’t have to be enemies, Elloren.”
“We don’t?” I croak out.
“Of course not,” she croons.
Her obnoxious, entitled tone kindles my anger. “You know, Fallon, if you want to be friends, you’re really going about it the wrong way.” I glare at her. “Where I’m from, people generally don’t hurl ice daggers at people they’re trying to be friends with.”
Her lips curl with contempt. “It’s simple. Just stay away from Lukas, and I’ll stay away from you. Understood?”
You mean, bullying witch.
I cough out a sound of disbelief and shake my head at her, anger burning hot at my neck. “You should be thanking me, you know that?”
“Really,” she spits out. “How so?”
I find my footing and rise. “Without me on his mind, Lukas might be undistracted enough to see you as you really are. And I think it’s safe to say that would make you quite a bit less attractive.” I straighten and look her square in the eye. “As if that were even possible.”
She’s on me in a flash, her wand to my neck, and I suck in a tight breath, pressed up against the stone wall.
“Play this game with me, Gardner,” she seethes. “See how it ends for you.”
The echo of footsteps starts on the stairs and down the hallway, coming in our direction.
Fallon smiles darkly at me and removes her wand from my throat.
Fallon’s military guard stops short at the sight of me standing in a large puddle, shattered vials and books scattered all over the wet floor.
“Oh, dear,” Fallon croons, shaking her head with a sigh as she glances at the vials. “Guild Master Lorel won’t be happy you’re so clumsy. Wait until she hears.” She looks at me with mock concern. “You might want to clean up the mess you’ve made.”
She shoots me one last evil grin before she turns briskly on her heel and leaves.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Of Violins
It’s dark by the time I finish my kitchen labors, and I’m glad to leave, worn-out by the work and from enduring the hostile silence and forced politeness of the other workers. I go straight to the archives to complete my assignments and pore over Apothecarium texts for several bleary hours, dismay spiking as complicated formulations refuse to stay put in my sleep-deprived head.
Exhausted, I drag my feet toward where Rafe, Gareth and Trystan are lodging. Gareth’s only with them until week’s end, when he’ll travel back to Valgard with the other Maritime apprentices, and from there to the sea.
My brothers’ lodging house is a long wood-and-stone building with multiple chimneys that sends up River Maple–scented puffs of smoke into the chilly night air.
I’m enveloped by warmth upon entering. Tapestries adorn the walls of a welcoming common area that houses a roaring fireplace, several benches and a number of chairs. There’s wood flooring instead of stone, and it’s soothing to my tired feet. The male scholars, most of them Gardnerian, mill about talking, eating and studying. I feel a sting of jealousy.
You could be living somewhere pleasant like this, I can almost hear my aunt say. You could be with your own kind, in the plushest of lodging houses. If only you would agree to fast to Lukas Grey.
And get an ice pick through my head? No, thank you. I shake away thoughts of Aunt Vyvian and stifle the memory of Lukas’s hot kisses.
I approach the House Master’s desk, get permission to meet with my brothers and make my way down a dim hallway. I count down to the correct room and knock briskly on the door.
The door opens, and surprise slams into me.
Yvan Guriel is looming over me, his brown hair tousled and sticking out at odd angles, like he’s run his hand through it in irritation one too many times.
I can see from his expression that he’s just as surprised to find me there.
“What are you doing here?” I demand, struggling to keep my composure in the face of his hostility.
“I live here,” he replies caustically.
Thrown, but undaunted, I try to look around him into the room. “Where are my brothers?”
He doesn’t answer, just glares at me hotly.
“Well, if this is where my brothers lodge, I need to drop off my violin,” I say testily, lifting the instrument’s case.
“Your violin?” he sneers, like I’ve said something offensive.
“So that the Icarals I’m being forced to live with don’t set it on fire,” I explain stiffly, trying to ignore how infuriatingly good-looking he is.
He flexes his angular jaw, and his intense green eyes burn into mine.
“Can I please just leave it here?” I finally ask, exasperated.
Reluctantly he opens the door wide, shoots me a look of hatred, then turns his back on me, stalking over to a broad desk lit by a small lamp. Thick physician texts are open on it, along with what must be an essay in progress.
Recognizing Rafe’s things, I slide my violin under my brother’s bed.
“Thank you for your hospitality,” I say to Yvan’s back, shooting him an angry look that I know he can’t see. Then I walk out and slam the door behind me.
*
Lukas is leaning against a tree, hidden by the shadows, as I walk out of the lodging house.
“You went in strong last night, I can tell.” His voice is silky smooth and warm with approval.
I stop in front of him as I let the startled feeling settle. It’s hard to make Lukas out, only the metal hilt of his sword and the gilded edge of his cloak catching the faint moonlight. My eyes adjust, and I can barely make out the subtle shimmer of his skin.
“I did,” I reply evenly.
“And? Are the Icarals afraid of you now?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He pushes himself away from the tree and strides toward me.
I step back and hold up my hands to ward him off. “Oh, no. I need to stay far away from you.”
His grin widens. “No, you don’t.”
I step back farther. “No, I really do. Or Fallon’s going to kill me.”
“She won’t kill you. She’ll just make your life miserable. But it’s worth it, don’t you think?”
Before I can comment on his audacity, he flicks his wand, and I’m bound and pulled straight into his arms. The bindings dissolve as he embraces me and kisses my neck. I halfheartedly push at him, and he gives a low chuckle. My resolve weakens, carried away on the cool night air.
“Why is she so obsessed with you?” I ask breathlessly.
He gives me a sly, dark smile. “You have to ask?”
I frown at him and move away a bit. “I thought your affinities clashed.”
He cocks his head. “They do. It’s like I’ve told you. She thinks it’s exciting. I find it off-putting.”
“And our affinities?” I wonder, his hand caressing the small of my back.
He pulls me in closer, his breath warm on my ear. “All that fire. And wood. We match up quite nicely, don’t you think?”
My breath goes uneven, my palm on his chest. He’s so warm.
Lukas grins and steps back, holding out his arm to me.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask with some wariness as he leads me back in the direction from which I came earlier.
“Trust me,” he says. “I want to show you there’s more to this place than crazy Icarals.”
*
We wind our way through the torch-lit University streets, past lodging houses and crafter’s Guildhalls. We finally come to a stop in front of an elegant building adorned with impressive wood carvings, scenes from The Book of the Ancients adorning every arch and crevice.
It’s a museum of Gardnerian art.
The young military apprentice on guard duty immediately comes to attention when he sees Lukas and hands him a ring of keys without question.