Page 33 of The Alchemists

“Lily?”

After a moment of rustling, he caught sight of motion on the far side of the stream. Lily’s head appeared around a massive tree trunk.

“Allsaires?” She stepped forward, her aura darkening the air around her, sending the trees into sudden twilight.

He looked at the creek between them, then at a fallen log twenty feet downstream. Her eyes followed him as he crossed, and for a moment he was nervy and sure that he was going to fall in while she watched.

“Sebastian,” he said, once he stood in front of her.

“What.” She stared.

“You can call me Sebastian.”

She didn’t respond to that, her lip caught in her teeth, thoughts clearly elsewhere. “What are you doing here?”

He wasn’t entirely sure himself. “I was thinking about the ring, those symbols, and what you said. I printed off some stuff, if you wanted to look through it together.”

Her eyebrows screwed together. “You want my help?”

“I…no.” Her frown deepened. “Maybe? I don’t know, really. I just…you seemed like the person to talk to.”

“What about Vis and Beaumont?”

Lily watched his face carefully as he spoke. “They’re…we’re in a fight, I guess. It’s dumb.”

“They weren’t at the match,” she said, moving around the tree. He followed her, suppressing a grin as he saw her backpack and jacket spread between the massive roots.

“You were there?”

“It was a good win.” She didn’t look at him while she said it. “I hope Liesl makes it to nationals, though.”

“Me too,” he agreed. “You like Cantrèa?”

“I love it,” she said, once more evading eye contact.

“Ever played?” His words surprised both of them. “I have an extra foil in my bag.”

Her face moved through what seemed like a hundred microexpressions as she stared at the ground. She was going to say “no,” he realized, even though she wanted to say the opposite.

“Here.” Before she could disagree, he stooped and unzipped his bag, pulling out the thin, black cases that held his foil and a practice blade. “I’ll just show you a few things and you can decide if you like it. You let me interrupt your dance practice, after all.” He looked up, checking for opposition. “You can use my practice foil. It’ll be long on you, but it’ll work.”

He thought he might be starting to differentiate between her frowns. This one seemed steeped in confusion, but at what, he wasn’t sure. So much of her, it seemed, happened internally.

She took the offered foil, carefully testing its balance, then slipped her middle finger through the grip. Fastening the wrist strap with the non-dominant hand took practice, and as she fumbled it, Seb reached for her wrist to help.

She leaped backward as his thumb grazed her skin, jerking her hand upward out of his reach and accidentally sheathing the foil. The tree caught her, and when she looked up, her cheeks were flushed.

“Sorry, I⁠—”

“It’s okay.” She shook her head, bangs brushing her forehead, and offered her arm. “Sorry.”

“This is a good tree,” he said, for something to break the heavy silence as he fastened the strap around her wrist, avoiding a delicate bracelet. He did a double-take at the thick concentration of Æther around it. Her pulse raced under his thumb, and he could see the blue of her veins beneath her skin. He had to fasten the strap on its tightest setting. “I usually hang out with my—in the grove, but these are nice woods.”

They wandered over to a small clearing with even ground and stood facing each other. A light breeze stirred Lily’s hair, the rusty color of November leaves. Her cheeks were still faintly pink. Seb felt self-conscious, suddenly, standing in the woods with this strange girl, who stood perfectly still as she waited for his instructions.

“You can unsheathe—” he broke off as Lily flicked her wrist to the side, extending the foil. “Well, that’s lesson one down. Normally that takes people a while, and you’re not even using your own equipment.”

She shrugged, though her mouth twitched in silent pleasure. “Now what?”