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Loss was an old, familiar friend. I knew death better than most, and I refused to let Saige go without fighting with all I had.
We were just getting our chance to learn about one another. Trust each other.
She held me last night with more tenderness than I’d ever known. When she looked at me, she didn’t see a misfit, an orphan, the angry person I’d allowed myself to become. She saw who I could be. Who I wanted to be.
I needed her. I needed to help her.
Finally, all my years of being a recluse and studying everything I could get my hands on would be of use. When I passed the main resource desk of the library, Ms. Froth gave me a smile, and I waved without deviating from my path. She, like the other librarians, was used to my being around and never bothered me. Even when I spent more time than a student generally should in the ancient text room.
I used to have to ask for it to be unlocked, but two terms ago, they gave me a key so they didn’t have to be bothered. This room held great appeal, not only because of its contents but the privacy. Four years of coming here, and I’d never met another student.
Generally, only the university-level students needed these books, and they could request them at the desk rather than coming back to find them on their own.
That meant no one would disturb me while I searched through the restricted grimoires containing curses we weren’t allowed to learn. They weren’t the only books I’d found over the years that had no place being on campus, but I had no interest in dark magic. I only stumbled across them by accident a few years ago, looking for proof of dragons, kelpies, and unicorns during my King Arthur phase.
I gathered as many of the books as I could remember and spread them out over a study table. The answer had to be in one of these. Curses weren’t something I knew much about, but I picked up on enough from my general research to know they could be broken. The possibility was there. We might not even need to know the exact curse she’s under or who cast it.
There might be a spell that’s generic enough to twist with our intentions to use as the cure. Finding it was the only obstacle now, but I would. I had to.
Saige’s life was in my hands.
