Ican’t tell whether Divination class has gotten better or worse since I sparked my matches. Cole has stopped heckling me, maybe because he’s wary of getting too close and feeling the tug of our bond, but every time I glance over at him, he seems to be studying me.
Is this version of the professor waiting for me to screw up? Does he still think I’m cheating in my assignments somehow, or does he figure he’ll discover some loophole to free him from our connection?
Or is something completely different eating at him that he hasn’t bothered to share?
I sit casually at my desk, pretending I don’t notice and also that I’m barely aware of my other two matches in the room. Next to me, Cadance is babbling on about a new lotion she’s discovered that “practically makes your skin sparkle.”
I guessshewasn’t too offended by my caustic remarks the other day.
“Next time I’m there, I’ll pick you up a sample,” she offers, and I make a vague noise of gratitude.
When Cole stands up to get the class underway, my stance tenses despite my best efforts.
His penetrating gaze sweeps over us. “We’ll be attempting a new partner exercise today. Go out into the school and divine a prediction as you have before—with the help of one of your classmates. Two minds working together can either cause confusion or bring more details to light, depending on how skilled you are in your observations and assessment. As before, the more impactful the prediction, the higher your marks.”
Cadance touches my arm as if to claim me, but Cole keeps going. “To keep the assignment fair, since I know that’sveryimportant to all of you, I’ve picked your partners based on your class rankings.” He consults the tablet he’s holding, as if he’d need to check for this one. “Mr. Worth and Miss Devine, that puts you together.”
I manage to stop my eyebrows from jumping up and cast a cautious glance toward Byron. Did our professor come up with this activity specifically to stick us together… and what were his reasons for giving us a chance to talk free of suspicion?
I’d like to think they were generous, but I have more doubts than a phoenix has feathers. Cole hasn’t seemed to approve of any aspect of our union so far.
As he rattles off the rest of the pairs, I move with feigned reluctance toward the door to meet my partner. Byron joins me on the threshold.
“One and two,” he remarks, referring to our class ranks. “You’d better not drag me down, Devine.”
I grimace at him, even though I’m pretty sure he’s just playing his own part. After the month I’ve had, it’s moresurprising that I held on to the second spot than that I didn’t overtake him to claim first.
We step out of the classroom together, keeping a careful distance apart. I glance down the hall with its arched ceiling and brass sconces. Luminary likes to play up the castle vibe.
“Where do you want to hunt for a good prediction?” I ask.
Preferably somewhere we won’t run into our classmates so we can talk more freely.
Byron tilts his head with a sway of the short coils of his hair. He must be thinking along similar lines. “How about the teacher’s lounge? A divination about the staff will probably get higher marks, and there shouldn’t be much of anyone using it while classes are in session.”
It’s also out of the way, down a hallway past a bunch of the professors’ private offices. Perfect as long as we keep our voices down.
I nod. “Sounds good to me.”
Neither of us says anything else as we tramp up the stairs and pass several classrooms before we reach the staff area of the school. The aged hardwood floor creaks faintly under our feet. A whiff of tart varnish reaches my nose.
Byron glances around and speaks in an undertone. “Have you figured out your glim yet?”
Irritation prickles through me alongside a jab of guilt. I’d ask why everyone is constantly wondering about that, except I know why. It’s the most obvious point of interest after you’ve sparked a match.
A memory floats up of a myth I read once when I was absorbing everything I could about the various South Asian cultures Mom might have belonged to: a king asking a river goddess to marry him, the goddess agreeing and promising to stay as long as he swore never to question her.
I wish I could extract a promise like that from my matches. Although of course the king in the story screwed upand finally burst out with a question after all, ruining the whole marriage.
And I’m not delusional enough to think I have divine-caliber sway anyway.
So I simply shake my head. “I’m sure it’ll become clear when I need it.”
May I never need it again.
Byron shoots me a penetrating look, and my skin tightens all over again. Do I really want to be alone with him, risking him unraveling all my secrets?
After my day with Salvatore, I did make a silent commitment to open up to my matches more. To let them help me with the problem that’s looming over all of us, even if there are still a few things I can’t risk telling them.
