Page 17 of Winterveil

“You’ll see” was all Dr. Iver replied.

Silence filled the room. Dr. Iver’s stare was so intense that Nadiya felt compelled to look away, just for a moment, gaze scanning the bookshelves and the large bay window that displayed the courtyard. The groups of students below were tiny and blurred from a distance.

When she looked back, Dr. Iver said, “You did a good job there, you know. Convincing her to come.”

She hadn’t planned to say anything to Giselle at all. Dr. Iver certainly hadn’t told her to. The words had just risen up, unconscious and unbidden.

Don’t you want more than this?

I think you already are more than this.

Nadiya couldn’t explain it, even to herself.

“I’m glad it helped,” she said. “But I still don’t understand why . . . I mean, she’s . . .”

Redneck Barbie. Matteo’s voice echoed in her mind. A mean-spirited and inane nickname, but not entirely off the mark. Beauty and superficial charm weren’t prized at Valeran, despite Matteo’s own crowd of admirers. And her accent would set her apart as much as her pageant queen looks. Valeran was for rich kids who committed crimes out of a particular type of indulgent boredom. They ended up at the academy instead of prison because their outlandish behavior sold papers and Dr. Iver paid attention.

How had he even heard of the girl arrested for credit card fraud, languishing in a drafty jail in the backwoods of West Virginia? Surely that hadn’t made the national news.

She wanted to ask. She wanted to ask so many things. Nadiya felt like she had accumulated a thousand questions over the years, bitten back and swallowed down. Whenever she thought about speaking them aloud, something always stopped her. Something inside herself. Maybe Dr. Iver had planted it there.

“That isn’t something for you to worry about,” Dr. Iver said. “Later, when the time is right, you’ll learn. For now, it would be of great help to me if you would endear yourself to her. Keep an eye on her.”

Nadiya’s heart leaped. It was a childish sentiment, but she couldn’t help feeling pleased that Dr. Iver was entrusting this to her. She liked being useful, important. It felt like safety.

“Okay,” she said. “I will.”

Dr. Iver reached over and cupped her face in his hand. “Good girl.”

The words made her glow. Nadiya leaned momentarily into his touch. Then she said, “Maybe Giselle doesn’t want friends.”

“Everyone wants friends,” Dr. Iver said. “Even you, it seems. I’ll upload her schedule to your tablet. I’ve put her in the advanced cryptography class. With her talents, it would be a waste to have her slog through the introductory courses. And she’ll have private tutoring with Professor Blanchard as well.”

Nadiya nodded slowly. “All right.”

At last Dr. Iver gave her the sort of smile she understood—gentle, uninhibited. With another brush of her cheek, he let his hand drop and then rose from his seat, walking around his desk. He opened the top drawer and searched about for a moment while Nadiya sat, waiting.

“I noticed that you didn’t use them last night,” Dr. Iver said. He found what he was looking for and held it out to her.

Nadiya stood and joined him at his desk. “It was fine. I didn’t need them.”

“No nightmares?”

She shook her head.

“I’m glad,” said Dr. Iver. “But just in case.”

He set the plastic pouch on his desk. Nadiya hesitated a moment before reaching out. Then, taking care not to expose the raised red flesh of her palms, she picked it up. Through the transparent vinyl she could see the pair of nodes, partially wrapped in their microfiber cloth. They were about the size of a quarter each; when she was younger, Nadiya had called them her bad dream buttons.

“Good dream buttons,” Dr. Iver had corrected her. “They’re what keep the nightmares away.”

Nine years. She had used them every night for almost nine years. Nadiya slipped the nodes into her hip pocket, right next to where she kept her real father’s silver cross.

Six

Spring 2037

Rural Virginia