The only thing worse is when someone leaves without one.
Make it make sense.
His eyes search mine like he’s looking for all the answers before settling on one question. “Do you still have the dagger I gave you?” he asks in a hushed voice.
My shoulders slightly drop. Not the question I was hoping for.
“I do,” I reassure him. “Although I’m not sure what you think is going to happen. I promised you I would carry it on me at all times, and I don’t break my promises.”
I instinctively touch the thigh sheath hidden under my loose-fitting pants. The material is soft and not form-fitting, making it easy to pull up and remove my dagger quickly if need be.
“You can never be too careful.” He looks away, like he’s hesitating to say more. Ambrose has never been one to shy away from the truth with me, and he’s not going to start now. “Just remember your promise and keep it hidden.”
“I know you’re hiding something, Ambrose, so spill it,” I demand, planting my hands on my hips.
He rubs the back of his neck, his perfect teeth biting down on his lip before coming to a decision. It’d better be to tell me the truth, or dammit, we’re going to have problems. We don’t hide things from each other, ever, and we aren’t starting now. “Don’t trust people here, Nori. Not everyone has good intentions,” he finally warns. His voice has taken on a deeper edge than he’s ever really used with me, and I’m starting to wonder what exactly I have gotten myself into.
Chapter five
I was right. The goodbye sucked just as much as I thought it would. It also didn’t end with a heart-stopping kiss like I daydream about an unhealthy amount of times per day, but it still felt good seeing him.
I press my lips together tightly.
Get it together, woman.
Maybe if I keep reminding myself I’m deep in friend territory, it will sink in. At the moment, I need to focus on other things, though. Like passing this trial and not meeting my untimely demise.
I’m too young to die—I haven’t even experienced life yet.
Not only do I have to successfully place to stay the hand of the executioner, but I also have to place specifically as a Veil or face the very real possibility of being repudiated by my own mother. No one hates Noctryns quite like her. In fact, I think the only thing she hates more is my father.
No pressure or anything.
Taking a deep breath, I calm myself with the hopes that if I was meant to be in that regiment, I would have felt something by now. Some sinister force flowing through my veins just waiting to be released. But I don’t. I feel light and valiant, like I’m a good person who only wants to make a difference in this world.
At least that’s what I keep reiterating to myself.
Mallory and I make it just in time for the test. The professor is already standing at the podium in his dark robes and looks up when we enter. We quickly make our way to Finnley and take the two seats he saved for us while trying to be as discreet as possible.
I get situated, assure myself that not everyone is staring at me for almost being late and let my eyes roam across the sea of ivory-colored prospects already in their seats. It’s a sobering thought that most of us won’t make it to the commencement ceremony. I think statistically only like 40 percent, or something like that, complete Asylamation.
Frowning, I pull myself from the macabre thoughts and focus on my other surroundings. The large lecture hall is so quiet that you could hear a quill drop, which is astonishing, considering almost every seat is filled with students. All one hundred and three of us. The stadium-style seats are divided into three sections, with the three of us seated in the upper-left, back row.
The only sound that slightly reaches my ears is Finnley, softly steepling his fingers on the old wooden desk. I notice the Gothic vibe carries over into this particular room as well. Dark stone walls blend into a nebulous vaulted ceiling that appears to have stars shimmering throughout it. It’s actually quite mesmerizing.
“They’re not really stars, but thousands of tiny glowworms,” Mallory whispers from my left, as if she read my mind before turning her attention back to the professor. It seems her dad gave her more insight into the academy than my parent did.Or maybe my mother deemed it too trivial and not worth mentioning.
Either way, it’s a sight to behold.
Bending down, I reach into my pack and pull out a quill. I’ll never be more ready than I am right now, especially after reviewing the questions.
Thank you very much, Ambrose.
The professor clears his throat and begins. “You are all here today because you think you have what it takes to place in a regiment of Salaryan’s army. I commend you for your bravery, or stupidity, depending on how you want to look at it.” He pauses dramatically, letting his gaze roam around the lecture hall. “My name is Professor Moravek, and if you place in the black regiment, I will be your professor for blood magic.”
His face is completely blank as he folds his bony hands in front of him, patiently waiting for the hushed whispers to die down.
I hear Finnley blow out the breath from his cheeks. I guess we’re really in it now. What’s next, a class on necromancy? This is why some of us just aren’t made to be anything but Veils. The very idea of dark magic is just repulsive to some of us.
