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He doesn’t enter. He won’t let himself. As if he’s afraid of what will happen when he does.
Anger floods my cheeks in a fiery wave.
“Summer—”
o;They’re all iron,” someone remarks.
The professor nods, a strange look on his face. “The forbidden magic melded into the weapons made it possible for the Fae who created the weapon to wield it against another Fae. Does anyone know how forbidden dark magic is created?”
Reina, who’s standing near the axe looking for all the world like she might lift it when no one’s looking, raises her hand. “Forbidden magic is created when a soulmancer takes a Fae soul and drains its essence to use in a spell.”
“Very good, Miss Rinehart,” Professor Crenshaw says.
Reina shoots me an arrogant smirk.
“Some of these weapons may have been forged with dark magic using up to one hundred souls.” The professor sucks in his cheeks as if the very thought gives him a bad taste. “They are sentient, in a fashion. The guards outside say sometimes they can hear them calling to their masters.”
“What would happen if you touch, say, the bow over there?” Jace asks.
The professor draws near to the longbow and quiver in question, a bright gleam in his eyes. “Why it would kill me dead, boy. This bow gives its master speed and unrivaled marksmanship.”
“Were they all used in battles against other Fae?” I ask, mesmerized.
“Some. But just as many were used against darklings.”
“Even back then?” Reina asks, her love for the dark weapons matching my own.
“Oh, yes. Darklings in some form have always existed in our lands—although not to the degree they infest it now. During the ancient battles between troll and Fae, the troll created darklings using the same forbidden magic that permeates these weapons. In fact,” the professor reaches out his fingers as if to touch the tassel hanging from the quiver, then smartly thinks better of it, “a Fae princess once used this bow to kill a hundred darklings in less than a minute.”
I stare in wonder at the seemingly simple longbow, bands of iron and turquoise embedded in the ironwood. An inscription is gilded at the bottom of the leather quiver.
May every arrow find its mark the way you did my heart.
I hardly breathe as I stare at the weapon, wondering who the inscription could be for.
“You are lovely, aren’t you?” I hear myself purr before Mack grabs my arm and drags me over to a crossbow that’s supposedly haunted.
Forget the Winter Prince. I need to find a boyfriend who dedicates a forbidden weapon to me.
43
“Are you sure you don’t want to come home with me?” Mack asks. She tries to hide the worry in her voice but it’s there, along with two lines that crinkle between her dark brows whenever she’s uneasy.
I shake my head. “I’ll be fine. It might be nice to be alone for a few days, and I have to catch up on reading for Potions and Poisons class.”
She snorts. “You’ve aced every single test so far in that class. In all our classes. I think you’ve even surpassed me for highest grade in our class. Surely you can relax for a few days?”
Sighing, I give her a huge hug. How I lucked out in landing Mackenzie Fairchild as my BFF, I’ll never know. But I can’t tell her that being at her house, watching her family celebrate Christmas, will remind me too much of my family. Not without ruining her holiday, too.
And no way I’m doing that.
“Go. And I’m expecting something fancy and expensive as a present when you get back,” I say, my voice sounding cheerful despite the sudden flood of loneliness. “Mack,” I call as she walks away.
She flips around. I can tell by her hopeful smile she thinks I might change my mind.
“Merry Christmas.” Tears sting the back of my throat, and I blink to keep from shedding them.
“Happy Yule, Summer.”
