Kirin lowers his eyes, watching his footfalls as a few students pass us on the red stone path. All around us, the campus bustles with life—witches and mages scurrying to class, a group of students practicing levitation on a patch of grass behind us, two mages making out in the shade of a giant saguaro. If anyone is worried about the events going on outside our magickally-protected borders, no one shows any signs of it.
Life, as always, moves on.
But not for us. Not for the Arcana, the Keepers of the Grave.
“I know that, Stevie,” he finally says when the students are out of earshot. “We all know that. Whatever her designs, we just didn’t think she’d make a move so quickly. Our assumption, our mistake. It won’t happen again.”
“I made too many assumptions with Phaines,” I say, remembering how taken I was by his grandfatherly demeanor.
“Hey.” He stops in his tracks, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Stevie, I won’t let you out of my sight in there. Not for a minute. I promise.”
“I know.” I smile, hoping it’s enough to reassure us both. “Did you meet her yet? Officially, I mean?”
“No. She spent yesterday getting settled into her new office, and I managed to avoid direct contact. But it’s only a matter of time before she wants access to the archives, and I’m the one who has to sign off on that.”
“Is she in the security system?”
Kirin shakes his head, leading us down the path again. “I’m trying to hold off as long as possible. There’s plenty for her to do that doesn’t involve rare manuscripts, but like I said, she’s going to want access sooner or later. Probably sooner.”
“If she wants to spy on me, the archives lab is probably the best place after my apartment.”
“The lab is already warded against spy spells—a precaution the Academy took from the beginning, given the sensitive nature of the documents. I’ve added some enhancements to the screening process, too. But none of that can stop her from spying the old-fashioned way—snooping and eavesdropping.”
“What the hell does she want?”
It’s a rhetorical question, but Kirin answers anyway. “That’s what we’re hoping to find out. So for now, we play it cool, just like we told Baz. Right?”
“The waiting game… It’s so frustrating. I just don’t want to get caught with my pants down again.”
“I… right. Of course.” Kirin looks away, his ears turning red, and I realize the stupidity in what I just said.
Kirinliterallyleft me with my pants down in the middle of the library, right after making my whole world explode in technicolor glory. I came, he left. Pun intended.
It’s kind of a raw nerve for both of us, and I feel the guilt leaking into his energy, hot and prickly.
I grab his arm, stopping us on the path. “Kirin, I didn’t mean—”
“I know you didn’t,” he says softly. “It’s just a… just a saying.”
“A stupid one that I didn’t mean to say.”
“It’s okay, Stevie. I’m the one who screwed up.” He looks my way again and tries to smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and it’s not long before it falls away completely. “Stevie, there’s something else I need to tell you.”
I feel the shift in his energy, his guilt and concern and protectiveness whisked away by a dark, swirling hole of sadness and loss. The change is so abrupt, it makes my own heart feel hollow and cold.
“Kirin…” I look into his eyes and find the same sadness lingering. “I know we need to talk about what happened between us, but I can’t. Not yet. Not here. We need to focus on work, and I—”
“It’s not…” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Stevie, I just wanted to tell you about my sister, Casey Appleton. I know you met her in Cass’s class yesterday.”
My cheeks heat—a mix of embarrassment and, if I’m being honest, disappointment. “Right. Yes, she was observing us. I was going to ask you about her earlier, but the whole Janelle thing took over.”
We continue our walk.
“Casey and I aren’t close. Before yesterday, I hadn’t spoken with her in ten years. Same with my brother and parents. It’s just… one of those things.”
Pain. Loneliness. It rushes at me hard and fast.
“But… why?” I blurt out. My parents were my whole world, and they were taken from me—something none of us had any choice in. I can’t imagine the pain of knowing they still exist somewhere, but for whatever reason, don’t exist in my life.
