“School?” Kai says, in the same tone you might saya root canal?. He gives a short, dark laugh. “No. Don’t think I will.” I must wilt, because he softens. “I’m sorry for you, though. I know this is your kind of place.”
“I’d stay here forever if I could,” I murmur into my coffee.
“Well, flunk enough classes and maybe you can. So long as the tuition checks clear, anyway.”
I roll my eyes. “You know what I mean. Like, become a professor.”
“Mm.” Kai blows on his coffee.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just, I could see you doing that. Research, teaching, the whole publish or perish bit, tenure.” He spins a hand. “Only thing you’d be missing is the houndstooth jacket and the long white beard, but otherwise? Textbook medievalist.”
He grabs for my chin, smirking, but I push him away.
“Okay, okay. I need to get packed.”
I don’t mind the teasing, actually. It’s just too sad to think about what isn’t going to happen.
I'm upstairs,folding a sweater, when it hits me.
Only thing you’d be missing is the houndstooth jacket and the long white beard.
My mind leaps back to Morgan, at Porter’s, talking about whoever taught Vivian magic:It’d be pretty fitting for medievalists here, wouldn’t it?
The photograph. The man in the beard, next to her. The look in his eye—the admiration, the awe…
You are the finest pupil I have ever taught, Ms. Vale. Well, so far as I know, anyway. We’ll see what the past brings.
I freeze, sweater half-folded in my hands.
The photograph. The bearded man. Those bright eyes, like he was seeing something no one else could.
Like he's astonished to have ever met such a creature.
"Oh my God," I whisper.
The sweater drops from my hands.
He wasn't just standing next to Vivian in that photograph. He was looking at her like she was a miracle. Like she was his star pupil.
Because she was.
Vivian was Emrys’s student.
He trained Vivian. He taught her magic.He knew her.
I didn’t clock the bearded man ashimin the photograph, because of course I didn’t. Normal time logic means of course my present-day Latin professor wasn’t also a much older gentleman in a picture taken over a century ago.
But Emrys ages backwards. Which means in the 19th century, hewouldhave been older.
And if he knew her…
If hewill knowher…
Then maybe there’s one last chance we can connect this whole thing.
In four steps I’m out of my room and down to the landing. Below, in the foyer, Callahan has his coat on, looking into the living room.
