Page 40 of Divine Oaths

I didn’t need to be told a second time. I stood as Angelica and Provost Henning ushered us out of the office, the two of them staying behind to talk to the president.

“Come see me in my office when your classes finish,” Angelica said as I exited the room. “I have that salve I mentioned for your hands. Kasem, let me take a look at your cheek.”

“I said I’m fine,” Kasem repeated. “It’ll heal on its own.”

Kasem didn’t wait for her to protest. He left the office, and Alaster and Jojo followed closely behind. Outside, they went their separate ways, Alaster and Jojo in one direction, Kasem in another. And I just stood there, weighed by all that had happened, knowing distinctly that in my first days here, I’d made an enemy out of Westfield’s faculty, its president, and its heir, and my own fate outside the university was falling from reach.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

What’s given freely

IF I HURRIED, I COULD catch the last few hours of classes. Maybe I could forget what I’d seen in the maze, what I’d witnessed in the alleyway and even in the president of Westfield’s office. Maybe I could drown myself in school and piano lessons, just as I’d imagined my life would be here at Westfield before the fire. It would be better than this, caught between two sides warring for an inheritance. But if Kasem inheriting Westfield was really connected to the stabbing and my powers, then, like it or not, I needed to find the truth.

So, instead of returning to music theory, I followed Alaster and Jojo.

They’d gotten far before I’d started pursuing them, and I found myself alone in the corridors leading down to the tunnels Provost Henning had marched us through earlier. I used my powers to retrace their steps, brushed my fingertips against the cool stone walls and knelt to trace impressions of their footprints making their way through the tunnels. The images flashed in my mind; the tunnels were used mostly by faculty, but once in a blue moon, students found access to them and snuck kisses, drinks, and everything else in between within the shadowy hallways.

The images pooled through my mind, the past years flashing like strobe lights. Breathe in, breathe out. It was painful and overwhelming to channel now. But I pushed through the pain, and focused on drawing out the moments from the recent past, so I was seeing not months and years before, but days and hours, moments ago, when Alaster had been here. The image of him emerged slowly. I caught hold of the vision, followed the trail of his footsteps. But it was like trekking through water. Like the world around me was frozen in time.

A chill overtook me, numbing my lips and raising the hairs on my neck. I shivered, and when I opened my eyes to the present, the burnt tips of my fingers shimmered with an icy residue. A soft hum drummed in the back of my mind. Or was it behind me, trailing in the distance, or farther up ahead, down the corridor? I stood, turning the corner. My heart sank with realization.

I was lost.

Somewhere along the way, I’d taken a wrong turn. The stone walls here looked older, like the marked ruins of a forgotten chamber. Along its surface, medieval sconces lined the walls. But the glow from their iron fixtures was like phosphorus; a steady hum of acidic green pulsed from within them. The hallway was silent. But there was that hum. Ever present.

Pulsing.

Pulsing.

The path behind me mirrored the one ahead. I touched my cheek; scratches lined my face. They burned now, burned with the memory of the hedges.

At the back of my tongue, the metallic taste of copper and zinc clung to the air.

Click. Click. Click.

I tried to check my phone. There was no service. But there it was again. Footsteps. Farther off but getting closer, and closer, and closer. The sounds cut into the humming walls, splitting the silence like a blade against my ears.

Maybe Angelica had been right. Maybe my visions were getting out of control, even more so now than they had been since the night in the alleyway. But what if this wasn’t manageable or reversible? What if things got worse, to the point where I’d be trapped seeing things from a timeline that wasn’t mine? Like my mother had been when she’d been on the brink of losing her sanity.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to jolt myself back to reality.

But I wasn’t seeing visions. I was in the present. I had to be.

Click. Click. Click.

From the corner of my eye, a figure emerged, up ahead. He was bathed in the soft blue light of my phone, and the familiar trail of sawdust and blood dripping from his jacket was suffocating.

He’d found me. Back in the maze and here again. The figure without eyes.

I spun away, pretending I hadn’t seen him. But he knew. He knew I had seen him. The cold burn of his empty stare watched me, taking me in, devouring me from a distance.

I pressed my phone to my ear and pretended to talk.

“Hi, Vivian. Yeah, I’m coming to class. Just got lost. Again.” I’d been an idiot not to get her number. Even if my phone had no service, Vivian was the only other person who might be able to help me. I started walking, faster.

Click. Click. Click.

Footsteps trailed behind me. The sound of my own against the stone walkway was heavy. Tangible. The figure’s was like the echo of sound. Like the memory of it.