Page 32 of Divine Oaths

Vivian placed one of the packets of tea into the ceramic mug. Then she poured in the hot water and handed me the concoction.

“Drink up,” she said.

Her hand was cold as she gave me the mug. As brief as it was, the skin-to-skin contact manifested my powers, but the vision was foggy, like I was trekking through water instead of seeing through the looking glass. In my vision, she’d gotten the mug from a cabinet above a platter of sandwiches in the lounge. I startled, my connection to the past severing as I pulled the mug away from her. It was still too soon to channel my powers, and the effort had me disoriented. Trying to gather myself, I focused on the tea in front of me and the tiny specks of roots floating in the clear bag.

“Do you think you can bring me the food they had in the lounge?” I said.

Vivian looked surprised, before her eyes narrowed. “How did you—”

“I was down there earlier,” I lied. “I meant to take some but didn’t know they were up for grabs.”

“Of course,” Vivian said. “I’ll be right back.” She turned to leave but frowned as a thought occurred to her suddenly. “But I’m not your or Angelica’s errand boy. And they’re going to be cold. I hate microwaves—and the one in the lounge always acts a whole fool whenever I try and use it.”

She was so odd. And kind of… amusing. “All right, deal.”

I blew over the hot tea, pretending to drink as she left the room. Hot water brushed against my pursed lips, the earthy scent of root and flower calming my nerves.

If I was younger, I probably would have tried the tea. Back then, I would have done anything to get rid of my powers. But if this tea would really keep my visions at bay, then I couldn’t risk drinking it. As much as I’d strained my powers over the last few days, I needed to talk to Kasem and figure out how to unmoor his lifeline from my powers.

When I was sure Vivian was gone, I dumped the contents of the tea into the toilet and flushed it. My roommate had placed a scented candle on top of the toilet. I didn’t have a lighter, though, so the most I could do was wave it around to diminish the scent of the tea now radiating from our bathroom before shutting the door and jumping back into bed.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A skirmish of wit

MY FIRST CLASS WAS MUSIC theory. It was on the other side of campus, in one of the two interconnected buildings where the School of Fine Art students were crammed together. Of course, it just had to be a morning class. I woke with little more than half an hour to spare, showered, and threw on a skater dress and an oversize sweater from my suitcase before making the trek from Poppy House to campus with my sheet music and bag in tow.

With orientation behind us, every inch of the grounds was teeming with energy. But despite the swarm of faces and the rush of voices, part of me was apprehensive about wandering campus alone. It was easy to get lost in Westfield. I’d learned that quickly in my first few days here and, again, I found myself struggling to find my classroom.

The elevators were packed, so I took the stairs, pushing past a cellist hauling their instrument up two flights and a soprano belting their runs. On the third floor, some lectures had already begun. Other rooms remained empty, with grand pianos perched at their center and rows of chairs and music stands gathered around them in a circle. In yet another room, students gathered to rehearse a performance.

I scanned the hallway, searching for my classroom amid the packed corridors. Instead I spotted Honey in the crowd of students, making her way toward me.

“Sianna,” she said, breathless. “I’ve been looking for you.”

I glanced around, trying to find an escape.

“I have class right now.”

“I know. It’ll only take a few minutes.” Honey smiled, but it didn’t quite meet her eyes. She gestured for me to follow, and led us to a small alcove with a window and a bench. “It’s about what you saw in the maze.”

“You mean the figure with red eyes—”

“Me and Alaster,” Honey said, cutting me off. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t, um, tell anyone about it. I mean, it’s bad enough Ojore—I mean, Jojo knows. And obviously I didn’t want Sem to find out either,” she said, nicknaming Kasem. “But if it gets out in the school, it could ruin us both.”

“I’m not concerned about helping you two maintain your relationship,” I said. She looked deflated. I sighed, forcing myself to say the next few words, even if they felt wrong. “But I’ll keep your secret.” As far as I was aware, only Honey and Kasem had been caught by Provost Henning. “I know what it’s like being at the bad end of gossip,” I continued. “If you want to sleep around with a creepy older guy, that’s your prerogative.”

Honey grinned, throwing me into a hug, which I barely managed to shimmy myself out from.

“I knew you were a darling.”

“I don’t agree with what you’re doing.”

She laughed. “I’d think less of you if you did.”

“So why are you?” I said, gesturing awkwardly.

“I don’t know.” She let out a deep sigh, looking embarrassed. “It just kind of happened with us. We grew up together, you know—me, Alaster, Ojore, and Kasem.”