Calabaraia, it had said.
“Now,” Professor Hargreaves began. “Can anyone tell me when Calabaraia was first discovered by humans?”
And because of Harker, she knew the answer.
She put up her hand. “There are rumors that it was found and formed a relationship with as early as the seventh century, in some parts of the globe. Though, of course, many such places ensured this knowledge remained protected.”
“And do you know why that it is?”
“Because we were not trusted.”
“Indeed. And do you know when—”
“In England, it was discovered in 1812, by the wealthy landowner Lord Henry Amberson. He accidentally opened or found a doorway in his garden and began his first explorations due to losing his eldest son through it,” she said and knew when she did that Harker turned to look at her.
She kept her eyes on the professor, but felt his just a few inches below her sightline.
She paid no attention, however. The professor was looking at her too curiously for that. “Very good—Miss Morrow, is it? Well. Nice to see a student with such a keen interest in history. Perhaps you might even enlighten the rest of the class a little further on the subject of his son,” she said—and when she did, there seemed to be a sharp light in her eyes.
Like this was a test of a different kind.
Less deadly than before.
And one she had an idea of how to pass.
“He was found and brought back to the manor.”
“I see. Well, we cannot all be aware of every—”
“Only he wasn’t the boy anymore at all. He just looked like it.”
Hargreaves had already turned her attention to her stack of neat lecture notes.
Now her attention turned back. She had very pale eyes, and they zeroed back in on Mina with an intensity she wasn’t quite prepared for. Mina knew why, however. The official accounts didn’t mention that part. They behaved as if Amberson’s meddling in the things he hadn’t understood were heroic, with no consequences.
Only Hargreaves’s paper had acknowledged otherwise.
“And do you know what that is called Miss Morrow?”
“Arbrigor. It means... replacing or doubling.”
“Indeed it does. Though, of course, the practice is very rare and only liable to occur when humans perform corrupt and unpleasant acts. Remember, all of you, that the accords of 1843 were put in place for a reason. We may only trespass on their lands with great care, and they may not trespass on ours save for a few very regulated and rule-based set of circumstances. The library, for instance. Demonstrations and the like. Mingling among our kinds is unseemly in ways that are never to be encouraged.”
She eyed her class on the last word. As if she expected each one of them to start drawing doors and jumping through them or using summoning spells for purposes they shouldn’t.Like fraternization with otherworldly things, Mina thought.Or maybe so they could sit three seats down from you, plotting your demise.
“But I was wondering, Professor. Do they always obey the accords?” she asked. Not pointedly, not aimed at him, just out of curiosity really. But once the words were out, she knew he shifted in his seat.
And the weight of his eyes on her grew greater.
“Well, of course. It is binding upon them.”
“Because we learned how to use the magic they gave us against them.”
“I wouldn’t put it quite like that. We learned to recognize what we could wield, and opened doors to better let it through. Then simply put safeguards in place to make sure that certain perilous practices could no longer occur.”
“You mean like monsters emerging from the depths, to stalk us.”
She could have heard a butterfly bat its wings in the silence that followed that. And she knew why, too. Every single person in there was most likely thinking of the quiz, and the werewolf, and what it meant if something could simply break through without any sort of way to avoid them at all. No questions you could answer correctly, and stay safe. No Professor to create any kind of boundaries.
