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“Weird. ” I sat back on my heels to regroup. Surely this was pickable. Every lock was pickable, right? Generally, I was a whiz with good old breaking and entering. I always kept random useful bits in my pockets—paper clips, safety pins, pop tops—enough to pick any lock…except this one.
I studied the medallion, utterly perplexed. A sideways figure eight, the symbol for infinity, was carved in the center. There were two triangles etched within that, one triangle in each half of the eight, so that they touched, their silhouette like a sideways letter X. The triangle on the right was indented, a little niche in the metal.
Was this the keyhole? I’d never seen such a thing.
My hand hovered over the medallion, and I realized I hadn’t yet touched it. Something about it radiated with power. Creeped me out. It was such a peculiar symbol, such a magical symbol. I had the eerie feeling that handling it might have horrific consequences. My hand hovered until my biceps began to tremble, and then I just felt stupid.
I was being weak. It was time to be brave. To be rational. Not to be freaked out by some stupid old lock. I had nothing to lose. I touched it to prove to myself I could.
Exploring it with my hands, I was no less perplexed. I tilted my head this way and that, wishing the ambient light might suddenly catch something I’d missed. But as far as I could tell, this was unpickable—not just hard to pick, but unpickable. Impossible. Cryptic. In all the books I’d read, I’d never encountered such a thing.
The metal was cool and damp with sea mist. A thin layer of corrosion felt like dirt under my fingertip. I wriggled my finger, using my nail to feel for some seam or edge, but there was nothing. Nothing to pry open, nothing to unfasten, unlock, or unlatch. There’d be no picking this thing. The triangle was hollow.
Not unlike my heart.
CHAPTER THIRTY
I lingered in the dining hall, unable to make myself care enough to move. I’d failed. The more time that passed, the more deeply I doubted myself. The more profoundly I believed there might’ve been something I could’ve done differently. Better.
If I hadn’t been able to prevent Emma’s death, then at least I could’ve avenged it. But now I couldn’t even do that. My sole and final goal had been to break into that keep. There was an entire goddamned hole in the cliff leading inside the castle, but I couldn’t even find my way through that.
I sucked.
And then there was Alcántara. My defeat was his triumph. I couldn’t bear facing him, but I had no choice. Assassination class was next period. He’d know by now how I’d completed his assignment. I’d killed Toby, innocent farm boy. I’d gutted him on the end of a damned dung fork. I dreaded giving Alcántara the pleasure.
The worst part, though? It was the fear that I hadn’t needed to kill him. Not really. And yet, not only had I done it, but for an instant, I’d relished it. That was the part that really sickened me.
So I’d gotten Toby after all, and what did that make me? Maybe Yasuo had spoken truly. Maybe I was a killer.
Yasuo. He was out there somewhere. How much longer did he have walking among us before he appeared on the other side of those bars? He felt called to the Draug already—the other Trainees had had to go out there to retrieve him.
And what of Rob? Was he even still alive? His last words had been about the girls, how we fed the vampires. Was that why Yas attacked him? Had his comment evoked memories of Emma somehow? I didn’t want to contemplate what it said about me that I wished I could’ve been the one who’d gotten him in the end.
What did any of it matter, anyhow? I couldn’t get into the castle. I was a failure all around.
Rob would probably heal. Then he’d seek me out. And I had no doubt he’d eventually find me. He’d catch me off guard, eventually. Eventually, he’d kill me.
I sloshed my spoon in my cold chicken soup, mashing soft carroty bits along the edge of the bowl. Lunch was winding down. I heard the clack of dishes and cutlery. Chairs scraping. Chatter grew louder as kids drifted by, then faded as they bused their dishes and headed out the door. The noises grew fewer and farther between.
I felt a body sit next to me at the table. Ronan. Surprise, surprise. I felt his lecture mode vibrate along my side.
“You are too reckless. ”
I met his eyes. “This is news?”
An instant’s vulnerability put me on my guard, and I carefully schooled all emotion from my face. I feared if I let the tiniest bit show, the dam would break and I’d snap completely.
“Going out with me in the dory is one thing, but roving the countryside”—he paused to temper his voice, pitching it calmer, quieter…steelier—“that is another matter entirely. I’ve begged you to have a care. There has been too much sneaking around. You’re in danger of…”
“Of getting killed? Duh. ”
He was silent for a moment, and I glanced up expecting to see his Ronan-look, but the tenderness that waited for me instead caught me off guard. “In danger of losing it. Of losing yourself. Losing heart. Forgetting who you are, truly. ” He touched the backs of his fingers to my cheek. It was the lightest of touches, but I felt it sear through me. Was he using his powers, or was it simply the heat of his touch? “You must protect yourself. And I don’t simply mean your body. ” His fingers traced down my neck to my chest. “You must guard your heart. Who you are. ”
I could protect myself. The first step would be to put a stop to this confusing interaction. I edged away from him. “Don’t you get it?”
That snapped him out of it. “What I get is that you need to stop wandering off campus,” he said sternly.
“They have to be stopped, Ronan. I’m going to stop them. ”
