Page 107 of Serpent and Shadow

“Oh,” I said. “Yes. I meant to mention that. I told Alaric, Jolie Harringbone, and Nyx Minh.” I paused when a muscle in his cheek twitched. “They’ve been helping me with this for months. It’s ridiculous not to give them all the information they need. Either they’re involved and helping, or they’re not. I decided they are.”

Blackstone nodded slowly, his expression unreadable.

“And you trust them?” he asked, leaning against his work counter. His long-fingered, very white hands wrapped around the stone edge.

“I do,” I said. “More than some of the people in Golden Sun.”

His expression soured slightly at that, but he didn’t argue.

“Who attacked you by the fountain?” he asked next.

I sighed, combing my fingers through my hair, which was a little wilder than usual since I’d just washed it and let it air dry, instead of using my normal range of spells and sprays to make it smoother. I’d found a few things Bones used on his own hair that I liked, too.

Morag chattered at me, her voice sharp, and I reached back into my pocket. I fished out another walnut, and handed it to her. She chortled happily as she took it delicately from my outstretched palm with one talon.

“I don’t know,” I said, a little impatient. “I was hoping maybe you could tell me.”

When Blackstone didn’t answer, I made my voice a touch louder.

“What can you tell me about divinity primals?” I asked.

He blinked, the closest he ever came to demonstrating real surprise. Then he managed to surprise me. His lips twitched, then stretched into something that was almost a real smile.

“Did Bones finally tell you, then?” he asked.

I frowned at his words, confused. “Bones? No. Alaric mentioned it.”

Instantly, the smile faded, replaced by what had to be irritation. “Did he? Out of the blue, he mentioned divinities? What interesting conversations you and your classmates share. Most Magicals have no concept of there being a third primal classification at all. It’s a subject generally only discussed by advanced theosophists and Oracles.”

I exhaled again, shaking my head.

Every conversation with Blackstone felt like a quiet argument.

“He mentioned it because I told him Bones is a caelum ignis,” I said, impatient. “And because I explained that Bones and I both have strange primals, and we suspect that’s the reason his magic doesn’t hurt me.”

Blackstone had glanced sharply at the door when I first said “caelum ignis,” and continued to look alarmed even after I’d fallen silent.

“What?” I said, confused.

“You should not say that out loud.” His pale eyes returned to mine, holding a warning that verged on a threat. “Ever. If you need suggestions for euphemisms, we will develop a system for speaking of this. But do not say those words aloud again. Not to me. Not to any of your classmates. Not to anyone.”

I tried to remember if I’d said them aloud in our earlier conversation.

I decided I’d hadn’t.

“All right,” I agreed. “Is this something we should be talking about with Forsooth in the room? The three of us, I mean?”

Blackstone let out a low scoff, and folded his arms. “It might have saved some time. And Forsooth’s tower has far greater protections than this lab.”

I frowned, thinking about what he’d said. The night I’d told Luc, Jolie, Alaric, and Nyx about Bones, I’d definitely named it. We’d talked openly about caelum ignis for several hours. I must have used the term at least ten times, likely more.

Blackstone coughed.

I glanced over, and he grimaced, his face making it clear he’d heard what I’d been thinking. Uneasiness rose in my gut as I studied his expression.

“Not good?” I asked.

Blackstone gave me a flat look.