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Rune glanced at the familiar purple dahlias on the wallpaper. Then the grass-green tiles beneath her feet.
“This is Summer Hall.”
The girl behind the desk nodded. “That’s right. Which hall are you looking for?”
This one,thought Rune.
A bad feeling cramped her stomach. But she was already running late. If she didn’t leave soon, she wouldn’t make it to Gideon’s by two o’clock.
“Thank you,” she said, backing out the double doors.
Outside, the air had grown colder, the sun hung low in the sky, and thunderous storm clouds were rolling in from over the sea.
Am I losing my mind?
First, the missing blood vial and access coin. Now, a missing Verity?
As Rune ran for the stables, her cloak billowing out behind her, she tried to think.
She’d been to Summer Hall hundreds of times. She could easily picture Verity’s room in her mind. The white roses on the wallpaper. Verity’s perpetually unmade bed. The towering stacks of used books on the floor, threatening to spill over at any moment.
It couldn’t not exist.
Unless it was an illusion.
That thought stopped Rune in her tracks.
She thought of the way Verity was always poring over Rune’s spell books, her fingers tracing the symbols.
Was she memorizing them?
She thought of the perfume Verity doused herself in, the scent so strong, it often gave Rune a headache.
What if she douses herself intentionally to cover another scent?
The scent of her magic.
But that would make Verity a witch. And if it was true, why hide herself from Rune, who wasalsoa witch?
The sky darkened overhead, and Rune looked up. Storm clouds were rolling in fast.
Her head spun, unable to make sense of it. But Rune was running out of time; she was late to meet Gideon. Once she did, she would head for the palace, where, she hoped, Verity would be waiting with an explanation.
As the rain started to fall, she fetched Lady from the stables, and together they raced toward Old Town.
FIFTY-FIVERUNE
GIDEON WAITED FOR HERin the doorway.
Leaving Lady in the rain, which was coming down in sheets, Rune withdrew the boxed flowers from the saddlebag and made a run for it, keeping the hood of her cloak pulled over her hair.
She was grateful for the storm. It would help cover her tracks once she’d gotten Seraphine out of the palace.
As Gideon held open the door for her, Rune stepped, dripping, into the foyer.
“Come in,” he said, heading into his parents’ shop, where the lights were already on.
His gunpowder smell filled the entryway, bringing a rush of memories swirling through Rune. Memories she didnotwant to relive right now. She pushed them aside and followed him in, letting the door fall shut behind her.
