The Golden Lily (Bloodlines #2)

"Typical," she said with a chuckle. "Purple... well, let's see. From what I've observed, it's a complex color. It's a spiritual but passionate color, tied to those who love deeply and also seek a higher calling. It's interesting in that it has such depth. White and true gold tend to be the colors associated with higher powers and metaphysics, just as red and orange are linked to love and baser instincts. Purple kind of has the best of all of those. I wish I could explain it more clearly."

"No, that makes sense," I said, pulling into the airport's circle driveway. "Kind of. It doesn't exactly sound like me, though."

"Well, it's hardly an exact science. And he's right - it's there in you. The thing is..." We'd stopped at the curb, and I saw her studying me carefully. "I've never noticed it before. I mean, I'm sure it's always been there, but whenever I looked at you, I just saw the yellow of most intellects.

Adrian isn't as adept at reading auras as I am, so I'm surprised he noticed what I missed."

She wasn't the only one. Spiritual, passionate... was I really those things? Did Adrian believe I was those things? The thought made me feel warm all over. Elated... and confused.

Sonya seemed like she was about to say more on the matter and then changed her mind.

She cleared her throat. "Well, then. Here we are. Thank you again for the ride."

"No problem," I said, my mind still swimming with visions of purple. "Have a safe trip." She opened the car door and then paused. "Oh, I have something for you. Clarence asked me to give it to you."

"Clarence?"

Sonya rustled through her purse and found an envelope. "Here you are. He was pretty adamant you get it - you know how he is when he gets worked up about something."

"I do. Thanks."

Sonya left with her luggage, and curiosity made me open the envelope before I drove away. Inside was a photograph, showing Clarence and a young guy, close to my age, who looked human. The two of them had their arms around each other and were smiling at the camera. The unknown guy had straight blond hair that just barely brushed his chin and stunning blue eyes that stood out against suntanned features. He was extremely handsome, and although his eyes mirrored his smile, I thought there was a little sadness too.

I was so caught up in his good looks that I didn't notice his tattoo right away. It was on his left cheek, an abstract design made of clustered crescents of various sizes and orientations, lying together so that they almost looked like a vine. It was exotic and beautiful; the rich indigo ink a near match for his eyes. Studying the design more closely, I noticed something familiar about its shape and swore I could see a faint glimmer of gold edging the blue lines. I nearly dropped the picture in shock. The crescents had been tattooed over an Alchemist lily. I flipped the picture over. One word was scrawled on it: Marcus.

Marcus Finch, whom the Warriors had claimed was an ex-Alchemist. Marcus Finch, whom the Alchemists had claimed didn't exist. The crazy thing was, unless someone locked away like Keith counted, there were no "ex-Alchemists." You were in it for life. You couldn't walk away. Yet, that obscured lily spoke for itself. Unless Marcus had had a name change that somehow eluded the Alchemists, Stanton and the others were lying to me about knowing who he was. But why? Had there been some rift? A week ago, I would have said it was impossible that Stanton wouldn't tell me the truth about him, but now, knowing how carefully information was parceled out - or not - I had to wonder.

I stared at the picture a few more moments, caught up in those haunting blue eyes. Then, I tucked it away and returned to Amberwood, resolved to keep the photograph a secret. If the Alchemists wanted to deny Marcus Finch's existence to me, I would let them continue until I figured out why. That meant my only lead was Clarence and the absent Warriors. Still, it was a start.

Somehow, sometime, I was going to find Marcus Finch and get my answers.

I was surprised to see Jill sitting outside our dorm when I walked in. She was in the shade, of course, still able to enjoy the nice weather without the sun's full force. We'd finally moved into a sort of autumn around here, not that eighty was what I usually associated with brisk fall weather. Jill's face was pensive, but she brightened a little when she saw me.

"Hey, Sydney. I was hoping to catch you. Can't find you anymore without your phone." I made a face. "Yeah, I need to replace that. It's been a huge pain." She nodded in commiseration. "Did you drop Sonya off?"

"She's on her way back to Court and Mikhail - and hopefully a much more peaceful life."

"That's good," said Jill. She glanced away and bit her lower lip.

I knew her well enough by now to recognize the signs of when she was bracing to tell me something. I also knew better than to push the matter, so I waited patiently.

"I did it," she said at last. "I told Micah it's over... really over." Relief flooded me. One less thing to worry about. "I'm sorry," I said. "I know that must have been hard."