A loud sigh comes from the other side of the underbrush. “I am taking it seriously, Rhett. What do you want me to do? Hmm? We didn’t find it, and the other option just isn’t feasible at the moment.”
“Because you’re working with morons.”
They must have stopped walking just past my hiding place. I remain as still as possible. I don’t know of anyone named Rhett, but that isn’t saying much.
“Sure thing,brother,” the second speaker replies, his voice low.
Someone sighs, the sound short and irritated. “Did you know there have been reports that Adair was in Casacia recently?”
“Which Adair? There are two.”
“Both,” Rhett answers.
The reply comes back low and cold. “When? They’ve been here every single day. I have eyes on them within the academy at all times.”
Rhett chuckles softly. “During your Asylamation week. It was brought to my attention that there was a reported wraith attack within the city that hasn’t been made public.”
An attack on Casacia? So that’s where Kingston was coming back from that first day.
“That doesn’t make any sense. Students don’t report to active duty until they’ve graduated,” the second speaker says, clearly bewildered.
I hold my breath and slide out from behind the log. Slinking across the ground, I move closer, hanging onto every word. Snow sloshes into my boots as I crawl through the wet powder.
“That’s the interesting part… why would the military remove a handful of Noctryns from Kintoira to assist during an attack? Not to mention, why would the wraiths be so bold as to attack a heavily guarded city? What are they after?” A few seconds pass before he speaks again. “The whole purpose of sending you here was to finish what I started. But I’m thinkin’ you’re becoming a tad bit too comfortable in that uniform,” he points out, a soft thud following his words as if he’s tapping the other man’s chest.
“It’ll get done, Rhett. Just like I said it would.”
“Good. I’ll be in touch.”
His footsteps trail off, leaving me once again in silence. After a few moments, the second speaker quietly follows him.
I stand and move toward the thick branches that were shielding me from their view. As carefully as possible, I peel back the overgrown bush and poke my head out. His steps are quick, and the distance between us is vast enough that I can only make out the back of his drawn hood. Any kind of identification is impossible.
I wait a few minutes before pushing all the way through and following the trail back to the academy. I head straight to Finnley’s room. I need to talk to someone I trust. I have a sinking feeling this has something to do with the missing professor. Maybe even the dark object that was stolen.
The door shakes beneath my heavy knocks.
Silence answers.
Come on. Come on. Please be in there.
“You looking for Finnley?” a voice asks from behind, startling me.
I spin around, my gaze falling on the girl from the bonfire. Ambrose’s little messenger. She’s propped against her doorframe, both arms crossed over her chest. Her mahogany hair is pulled up in her signature tight ponytail. She watches me with a silent question.
“No,” I drawl. “I’m knocking for the fun of it.”
She shrugs, turning to go back to her room.
Dammit. “Wait,” I call out, pushing all my pride aside.
She turns back around, her sharp gaze falling on me.
“Do you know where he is?” I ask begrudgingly.
She flicks her head in the direction I just came from. “Saw him in the study hall a few minutes ago,” she says simply.
I give her a short nod of thanks and head that way. I can feel her eyes on me the entire length of the hall. As soon as I round the corner, I practically break out in a sprint. The moment my feet hit the landing, a large hand shoots out, wrapping tightly around my wrist.
