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Morgan blinked, a little thrown by the suggestion. “I guess,” she said unwillingly, feeling her brow furrow. Sure, she’d been practicing, but that didn’t mean she’d gotten any better, did it? “I don’t… feel any better at it. It’s still hard, and weird, and I still don’t really know what I’m looking at, or how to interpret what the colors and shapes mean—”
“Slow down,” Acantha cut her off, raising an eyebrow. “You just started. It sounds like you’re better at it than you were before you went. What’s the problem?”
Morgan looked at her for a long moment, then laughed. “You’re right. Of course you’re right.”
“Part of the job.” Acantha tilted her head. “You were telling me about this guy.”
“That’s pretty much it,” she said with a shrug. “His friends showed up, he tried to grab me to prove what a tough macho guy he was, I shifted and knocked him flying. I haven’t seen him since.”
“Did you report him for attacking you?” Acantha asked, her voice quiet but her anger very clear. Morgan hesitated, shaking her head reluctantly after a pause.
“I thought about it. But honestly, Acantha… he’s already in enough trouble with the school. And it’s not like anything they could do would make him feel any worse than he already does himself. Trust me on that,” she added, feeling a shiver run down her spine at the memory of the dark, swirling vortex of his aura. “Besides, I don’t think he was trying to hurt me. I don’t think he could even if he tried,” she added, smiling a little. “I mean, look who my self-defense teacher was.”
“Absolutely right,” Acantha said with a scowl. She sighed. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, Morgan. If you don’t think you should report him, then I’m not going to insist that you should. But I hope you take care of yourself. It sounds like you’ve given him enough chances, you know?”
“Absolutely.” Morgan nodded. On this point, at least, she was crystal clear. “I won’t be giving him the time of day. Lesson learned.”
“Good lesson,” Acantha said, smiling faintly. “Don’t let your empathy get the better of you, you know?”
Morgan nodded. “I can understand why he’s acting like an asshole while still holding him accountable for acting like an asshole.”
“Spoken like someone who got very good grades on her exams,” Acantha said, dusting her hands off and then rising to her feet. “Now, I think we’ve got maybe an hour before it’s too cold to keep swimming. I suggest we make the most of it.”
And so the afternoon wore on into early evening, the subject of Archer set firmly aside, and Morgan focused all her attention on enjoying the time she had with her sister and her family. Once the sun set and the air turned cool, they all trudged out of the water. Unwilling to go home just yet, though, they decided on lighting a bonfire on the beach instead. Above them, the sky was patchy with clouds, stars glinting through here and there. Morgan lay back in the sand, seeking out the now-familiar constellations she’d spent the term studying.
“Why are the stars the same?” she murmured, half to herself. “Everyone says every insula’s completely different from all the others. So how come we all get the same stars?”
The meditative silence that elapsed told her that nobody else had an answer for that one, either. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to mind much. There’d be time for the mysteries of the universe later. Right now, she wanted to focus on how pleased she was to be here with the people she loved… because tomorrow, she was heading back to university. New term, new outlook.
And with any luck, she wouldn’t see Archer again.
Chapter 18 - Archer
Archer shifted from foot to foot, not wanting to let on how nervous he was in front of the Dean. If he couldn’t keep his cool, at this point, what power remained to him? The old man was studying the paper in his hands intently, that faint frown on his face that could mean anything from the best news to the absolute worst. Archer hated it. After spending two miserable weeks studying harder than he’d even imagined possible, all that remained was the feedback from the three relevant teachers, all of whom had received his work the day before and been given the evening to deliberate on whether he’d done well enough to remain at the school.
Finally, the Dean looked up with a small smile on his face. “Congratulations, young man. It seems you’ll be joining us for another term.”
Archer nearly collapsed with relief at the news. Instead, he hung onto his dignity with every shred of willpower that remained to him, fighting the urge to punch the air and whoop with glee as he offered the Dean a solemn little nod. “Thank you, sir. I’m grateful for the opportunity.” Then he hesitated, his mind drifting back to what the Dean had said about his father. True to his word, the Dean hadn’t let on about the real reason Archer was staying at the university over the break. His father had even congratulated Archer for his dedication to optimizing his time at Brisant in his response to his letter explaining that he wouldn’t be coming home for the break. “Really, sir,” Archer added, his voice quiet. “I appreciate it. More than I can say.”
Another one of those faint little smiles… but this one reached the Dean’s eyes. “I hope this will serve as inspiration,” he said, tapping on the piece of paper with one slender finger. “We’ll be expecting excellent results this term.”
“Absolutely,” he said, nodding fervently. One thing was for sure—after the fortnight he’d had, he was never risking letting that happen to him again. It was a miracle he’d even survived it, let alone made the grades he needed. But he had to admit, he had a much better grip on the information. A lot of it had actually been pretty interesting, grueling as the structure and pace of the intensive learning had been. He was looking forward to the comparatively relaxed pace of learning during the regular school term.
Speaking of which…
“Oh, no,” Archer groaned theatrically, stopping dead in the doorway of his dorm. “I thought I’d organized to have you guys expelled.”
Brody and Zack both hit him at once with a hug that was enthusiastic enough to mess up not only his hair but his shirt and jacket, too. Laughing, he fought his way out of the assault, elbowing both of them in the ribs until he could extricate himself. Their suitcases had, of course, been abandoned halfway into the living room. The place that had been so neat and quiet while they were away was already starting to look like a disaster area again… and Archer wouldn’t have had it any other way. He was genuinely surprised by how good it felt to see the guys again, to feel the school filling back up with crowds and noise and fellow students.
How embarrassing. He was actually gettingattachedto this place. He knew he had to do his best to keep that a secret… but he still couldn’t shake his good mood as the afternoon wore into evening and he began to readjust. The truth was, part of him hadn’t believed he was actually going to make it to this point. He’d been so convinced he was going to get kicked out despite all the extra study over the break that now he was actually here, he couldn’t quite believe it was happening.
But as the evening wore on and more and more of his friends swung by to say hi and grab a beer from the freshly-stocked fridge, he began to believe it. And what was more, he was actually looking forward to the term. After how grim the last few weeks had been, it felt good to just sit and laugh with the guys, to hear the stories about what they’d gotten up to on their breaks. Nobody asked him much about his own time off, which he appreciated. They must have known that he hadn’t left the university, but if they were curious about why, someone must have warned them not to ask about it. He had a feeling it might have been Brody. He was more perceptive than a lot of people gave him credit for, that guy.
He couldn’t help but think he should have organized a more official welcome back party. But the full moon was coming up that weekend, and it had felt silly not to combine the two. Besides, he hadn’t exactly had much spare time over the last two weeks. Archer had expected the exhaustion to overwhelm him—after all, while everyone else had had two weeks off, he’d spent it working even harder than he had during the term. So he was surprised to find, when he returned to classes the following day with the rest of the cohort, that he didn’t seem to be lacking energy. If anything, it felt good to keep working, pressing on right where he’d left off. He found himself taking more notes than he had the last term, paying closer attention to his lessons, and when he got back to his dorm in the late afternoon, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to finish off his handful of homework tasks before he joined his friends in the living room for their usual evening of socializing.
And so the second term got off to a much better start than the first. All the while, Archer tried to pretend he wasn’t worried as hell about what would happen when he eventually saw Morgan again. He knew better than to hope she wouldn’t be coming back. With her wits, the only way she’d have failed an exam would have been by sabotage… and she was far too clever to let something like that happen to her, anyway.
The moment of truth finally came. Archer climbed the long staircase to the tower with a heavy heart for the first evening class of the term. If it wasn’t for the knowledge that Morgan would be there, he’d have been looking forward to seeing professor Rowton at this class. He’d gotten quite fond of the professor during the break—it felt strange not to have seen him over the last few days. But he couldn’t keep his attention away from the familiar shape of Morgan, sitting ramrod straight in her usual seat, her head already lowered toward the textbook although the class was still a few minutes away from starting.
