Page 160 of Bone Year

He looks at me for a long moment. The neutrality of his face hasn’t shifted, but something behind his eyes has gone thoughtful.

“I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Take your eidolon and go back to the lecture hall. Elizabeth can send the next student in.”

I lift Poppy up. She comes to me without resistance and I tuck her into the crook of my elbow and turn for the door.

“Miss Rose.”

I pause.

“Helena Raven.”

He is watching me. The careful neutrality is back. Whatever flickered at the back of his eyes a few minutes ago has been put away.

“I’ll be looking into it. If anything comes back to me, I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

I release a pent-up breath and find my seat next to Lux again.

Draven turns to look back at me, his eyebrows furrowed.

I quickly look away.

“So how was it?” Lux asks.

“It was good. Primm will do great. You’ll be great.”

She smiles and pulls her pink hair to one side.

“So I was thinking, what if you wore a silvery-light-blue dress for the ball. I think it would really make your eyes pop, and it would look good with your hair.”

I sigh. “Sure, I think that sounds nice.”

Malric enters the room, he and Elizabeth whisper to each other for a moment. Then they both look over at me.

“Maelis, gather your things, please. You’re needed in the patient wards. It’s Cael.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

“The walls of this academy are older than the kingdom that thinks it owns them. They will outlast every name carved into them, including yours.”

— Founding Chronicle, redacted

Malric had the decency to tell me Cael is close to death and has been asking for me. I don’t wait for him to tell me anything else and hurry as fast as I can to the patient wards.

I enter his room and find him on the bed. He has always been thin, but not frail. Today, he is small. The blanket has been pulled up to his chest, and his arms are laid out on top of it the way menders lay out the arms of a patient who is no longer turning on their own. His skin has gone the pale gray that demon skin goes in the last hours, a color I have only read about in Cane’s textbooks. His eyes are closed.

Am I too late?

I approach the end of the bed, holding my breath until I see his chest rise and fall.

I promised him I’d listen to all of his stories and keep him company until he died. I thought we had more time. I’ve been listening to his stories for months and I’m not ready for them to end.

Poppy appears and crawls onto the bed, lying right up against his side.