Page 57

“Come to my room,” Avelene says as we step into the school, the walls warm, almost cozy. “You shouldn’t be on your own after that.”

“You don’t even know what happened,” I whisper.

“And you don’t have to tell me,” she says. “But the offer stands.”

“No, I…I need to be in my own space for a bit.”

“Saturna,” she says in a warning tone.

“I will be fine,” I tell her, pasting on a weak smile that would fool no one. “Just let me have the night.”

She looks at me a long second, pursing her lips. “If you change your mind, you come to me. At any hour, you hear?”

“I will.”

I turn into my own corridor and head into my room.

The moth is on the beam over the bed. She doesn’t greet me like she usually does, but I think she can tell I’m not in the mood for chatter.

But instead of getting undressed or taking off my shoes, I stand back against the closed door, palms flat on it, and take in several deep breaths, my mind churning. I know what I’m going to do, and I know I have very little time to do it.

I pick up the lantern from the hook beside the door and step outside. I have to reach Baz before he steps on that ferry.

Chapter

Sixteen

BAZ

The captain is already loosening the stern line when I hear her.

“Baz!”

I turn with my hand on the gangway rail. The pier at this hour is lit only by three lanterns on iron stakes that wave slightly in the sea breeze, and the fog has thinned enough that I can see the stones underfoot for twenty paces back toward the water gate where Saturna emerges, running toward me, still in her slippers and the black Trial robe over the white shift with her hair loose around her shoulders.

The captain chooses this time to speak for once.

“Boarding or not, Professor?”

“Not…”

He grunts in response as he pulls the gangway in and casts off. The ferry putters out into the fog and is gone before Saturna reaches me.

She stops a few feet away, her breath coming hard and fast and there’s a line of color across her cheekbones from running in the cold and her shift is a little too visible under the robe where it hasn’t closed properly at the throat and I do what I can to be a perfect gentleman and not stare. I meet her eyes and they are the same ones I held in the clearing, too open, too alive, bringing something back with her.

“You missed your ferry,” she says.

“I suppose I did,” I say, clearing my throat.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” I pause, watching a smile flicker on her face. “There will be another one. They run late tonight to get all the teachers back to their homes.” And it’s just as well that none of them were on this ferry, or they’d be wondering what I’m doing talking to a student this late.

“It’s just…I need to speak with you.”

“I’ve gathered that much,” I say and then look up at the school where the guards are doing their patrols around the building. The security at Collegia Mortis, otherwise known as the watchers, takes their job very seriously and while I don’t think paying attention to a professor’s after-school interests is part of their job, I can’t be too careful.

“But not here,” I continue. “There are two watchers on the sea wall tonight and both of them know my face. Walk with me.”