It’s the same thing I felt last night when Baz told me his story, and I wonder if Kirin and Baz realize they’re not alone in this pain.
“I’ll… I’ll tell you about it sometime,” Kirin says, his energy shuttering a bit. Defensive. Scared. “But my family drama has to wait. We’ve got bigger priorities right now. I just wanted you to know that despite our personal estrangement, Caseyisa good agent—it was always her dream to work for APOA, and she’s always been honest, hardworking, and smart. She’s done well for herself there. I trust her to do her job, and I trust that her heart is in the right place when it comes to keeping students safe.”
“What does she think about what’s going on here?”
“Well, Phaines is obviously their main concern. She warned me to keep an eye on Janelle, too—said that Eastman is already suspicious of her on account of her past relationship with Phaines and her history with treasure hunting.”
“Baz mentioned something about that, too,” I say. “Does Casey know about my mother’s prophecies?”
“That they exist? Yes. I also confirmed that you and I are working on the translations—she would’ve figured that out eventually anyway. But I haven’t told her about the Dark Arcana or what we suspect Phaines was really after.”
“So your trust of her only goes so far.”
“For now.”
The path curves, and up ahead, the library comes into view, a circular tower that rises out of the landscape. It’s my favorite building on campus, but the closer we get, the tighter my stomach twists. The last time I walked this path, my steps led me straight into the arms of a killer. I was robbed, poisoned, mutilated, and nearly murdered.
My knees begin to tremble, but I force myself to keep going, one shaky step at a time. Ihaveto do this. That psycho isnottaking this from me.
Sensing my sudden trepidation, Kirin puts a hand on my shoulder, his energy returning to concerned and protective. “You okay?”
I force myself to nod, but my mouth has gone dry, and I can’t seem to find any words.
“Maybe we should come back tomorrow,” he says gently. “Give you a little more time to—”
“No,” I snap, finally breaking through the nerves. “Kirin, we don’t have time. You know the stakes. You just said it yourself—we’ve got bigger priorities right now.”
“But one more day? It’s not the end of the world.”
“You don’t know that. It might beexactlythe end of the world.” I close my eyes and let out a long breath. “I have to do this today, Kirin. The longer I put it off, the harder it’s going to be.”
He doesn’t like it—that much is obvious. His protective energy is kicking into high gear, and I can tell just by looking at him that it’s taking some major willpower for him to keep his mouth shut.
But eventually, Kirin nods. “We stay as little or as long as you want. The minute you want out of there, we leave. No questions. Okay?”
I smile, some of the fear receding in the wake of his kindness. “Thank you.”
We’ve just reached the front steps when we see a familiar figure waiting for us at the entrance.
“Cass? Everything okay?” Kirin asks as we approach, even though it’s clear everything isnotokay. “Did Baz get a hold of you?”
“He did. I’m heading over to the suite now, but was hoping to catch you both here first. There’s something I need to tell you.”
We follow him into the lobby and over to a quiet alcove. He’s shielding his energy, but I can tell by his demeanor that it’s bad news.
“There was another attack last night,” he says, keeping his voice low. “A mage walking home from water magicks class out at the River of Blood and Sorrow.”
“What happened?” I ask, my heart jackhammering. “Is he okay?” My voice trembles, bile rising in my throat. “Was he…” I can’t even bring myself to say the words—I just make a slicing motion across my stomach.
Was he carved? Bled? Sacrificed in a twisted ritual to appease the Dark One?
“No.” Doc slides his hand around the back of my neck, a shockingly intimate gesture for the normally reserved professor that instantly fills me with warmth. “Nothing like that. He was just a little roughed up, missing a chunk of hair.”
“Someone took his hair?” I ask. “Why would they do that?”
“We don’t know yet,” Doc says. “But I can assure you, no one steals the hair off your head for benevolent magick.”
Goosebumps erupt across my arms. Despite the brutality of what Phaines did to me, the idea of someone cutting a chunk of hair from my head feels more sinister. Darker.
