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She finally understands. “They are that big!”
I cast her a dubious look.
“You’re just jealous,” she insists. While I can’t deny I’m envious of Eliya’s curves, I’m very certain they’re not over-exaggerated like her illusion’s are.
“All right, I’m just jealous,” I say, holding my hands up in defeat. If not for this splitting headache, I wouldn’t have surrendered so quickly.
Eliya flashes me a triumphant grin and points to my mirror. “It’s your turn, anyway.”
I didn’t realize we were taking turns and go to explain that I can’t concentrate because of the heat and my headache, but then I notice Professor Nyton standing behind us. He’s a tall, thin man, and it’s a wonder I didn’t notice him sooner. His arms are folded across his chest, and he peers at us through his monocle.
I really hope he didn’t hear our conversation about Eliya’s breasts.
I’m left with no choice but to turn to my mirror and gather aether into my fingers. I focus on my reflection as best I can: the oval shape of my face, my dark brows which pinch together in concentration, and the sunlight reflecting off my long hair. When I’m satisfied that I’ve captured every detail, I release my magic.
“Speculus!”
The aether spills out and forms my illusion. It’s identical in every way, like my reflection has sprung from the mirror. The clone’s unblinking eyes stare back at me.
A slow clap sounds from behind. “Splendid work, Ashbourne. Truly splendid. Though we should expect no less from the Grandmage’s daughter.”
Most of my tutors see me as the lazy student I am. A few are somehow convinced I’m a genius. Professor Nyton is one of the latter. But I suppose I am better at Illusionary Class than Alchemy or Medeicus. It isn’t as boring, and I spend less time asleep.
Professor Nyton continues his lap of the room and watches the other adepts as they replicate themselves. The twins—Jaron and Braedon Trindell—are doing an especially good job, no doubt because the two boys are used to staring at identical versions of themselves. But Professor Nyton doesn’t marvel at their illusions. Not like he did with mine.
When he’s out of earshot, Eliya scoffs at me. “Yours is only good because you spend too much time in front of the mirror.”
If we weren’t in class, I would splash her with a water spell for that. Actually, I’m tempted to do it anyway. Professor Nyton would probably let me off lightly for it, especially if it were just a small splash.
My expression cracks into a wide grin. “Now look who’s jealous.”
She just wags her tongue at me and waves her hand, dispersing her illusion. Then she sets to work at creating a new image of herself, this time shorter and less voluptuous.
I return my attention to my illusion. It still gazes straight ahead with its unblinking eyes. Though I’ve succeeded in creating a perfect replica of myself, the next step is to make it mimic my every move.
In the mirror, I catch Kaely glaring at me. Her fists tighten, and so do her clone’s. It seems she is ahead of me yet again, having already mastered the next stage of the spell.
Yet when Professor Nyton passes her, he spares her no more than a glance.And that only fuels her rage.
While I don’t hate Illusionary Class, I’m glad when it ends. It’s our final lesson of the day, and I can’t wait to crawl back into bed.
Eliya’s arms are linked with mine as we cross the Arcanium’s atrium and step through the portico which leads outside. When we pass the rows of pillars, she turns to me and says, “So, did you like the locket?”
With a frown, I glance down. The necklace is hidden beneath the high collar of my robes. “From Arluin? How did you know?”
“He asked me if I thought you’d like it,” she replies, as we descend the staircase which spirals around the statue of the Founder of Nolderan, “but I told him it would be too plain for your taste. He looked quite sad when I said that, though, and I felt pretty bad. But I changed my mind when he told me what he planned. Anything too fancy would distract from its purpose.”
“Oh,” I say. “I didn’t know he asked you about it.”
She stops in front of Grandmage Delmont Blackwood. It feels like he’s scrutinizing our every move, but that’s silly since these statues can’t move. “So?”
“So what?”
She grabs both my arms. “What did you tell him? He proposed to you as planned, didn’t he?”
I scan across all the adepts leaving the Arcanium. First-years and second-years finish at three o’clock, while the upper years have classes until later this afternoon. There’s still plenty of people around us, however. Eliya may not shun Arluin for his father’s crimes, but many others do. Though I suppose after what he told me yesterday, his father’s crimes are also his own.
I don’t dwell on that thought.
