Dark Light of Day (23 page)

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Authors: Jill Archer

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“Let’s go,” he said, grabbing my hand this time. He pulled me farther down the alley and back behind the warehouse. We were a block off campus now. With class starting in mere minutes, it was unlikely any student would follow us here. After all, strange things happened at St. Luck’s and no one had been hurt.

When he was sure no one had followed us, he backed me up against the wall.

“Why now?” he asked roughly, touching his forehead to mine. “Why here? In the
alley
?” He laughed then, slightly breathless and almost giddy. He pressed one hand against the wall next to me while the other cupped my cheek.
Because I’m falling in love with you,
I thought.
And for one reckless moment, I wanted to feel what it was like to have you put your mark on my heart.
But there was no way I was going to say that. It was scary enough just to think it. So I told him the other thing I was almost as scared about.

“Rochester thinks you’re enchanting me,” I panted.


Me
enchanting
you
?” he said, his tone incredulous. “Try the other way around.” He kissed me then, a long, deep, slow kiss that melted the edges of my magic and, despite the chilled air, made me feel soft and warm.

After a while Ari tilted his head back but kept both hands pressed to the wall behind me. He frowned.


Rochester
said that?”

For a moment it seemed as if Ari’s magical strength rivaled Rochester’s. I hoped Rochester wouldn’t directly accuse Ari of anything. Who knew what might happen.

Despite what I’d just done, I still felt wildly confused. “We need to stay away from each other,” I said.

“We need to spend more time together,” Ari growled.

“Ari, I’m serious. I want you to promise me something. Your magic is stronger than mine. If you make a promise, I know you’ll keep it.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself, Noon.”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“My mark’s not enough?” he teased. “You want an oath too?”

“Ari, I’m…”

Well, the fact was, I was scared. And, even though I’d had this big magic moment in the alley a moment ago when I’d decided I could no longer hide my feelings from him, it was still incredibly difficult to just say, “I’m afraid.” And it was even more difficult to say, “I’m afraid Rochester is right and even though I don’t care, I
should
care.”

“I’m… concerned,” I finally said.

Ari gave me a wry smile and pushed off the wall. He stepped back and looked away for a moment. The air was still and cold. I shivered. Ari returned his gaze to mine. He reached for my hands and clasped them between us.

“You know why I was able to put my
signare
on you, Noon?”

I shook my head.

“Because your feelings for me are
real
. Remember how I said not everyone can do it? It takes reciprocity, both magically and emotionally. If I’d enchanted you, I wouldn’t have been able to mark you.”

“Have I marked you then?”

He gave me a look that was mostly unbelieving, but just the least little bit hurt. “Yes.”

“So your feelings for me… they’re real?”

“Since the day you tried to make a five-foot jump to the moving boat you’d sworn you weren’t boarding.” I tried to pull my hands away from his. He wouldn’t let me.

“What do you want me to promise?”

I bit my lip. It was for the best.

“Promise that this is it until the end of the semester. Promise we won’t see each other outside of class until Manipulation is over.”

“No,” he said simply. “But I’ll promise you something else.”

He brought my hands to his mouth and tenderly kissed the back of each of them. He looked at me, his face a mask of ferocity.

“I will
never
enchant you. Should anyone, or
anything
, ever try to, I will kill them, if you don’t first.”

Chapter 12

W
e went to Sin and Sanction late. I walked in first and Ari came in a few minutes later. Everyone probably knew we’d been together. Many of them had seen us in the lobby walking out, but Ari respected my wishes to at least try to be discreet. The class itself was hellish. Copeland strung me up for being late, calling on me an unmerciful eight times. I stumbled my way through my answers, glad Sin and Sanction was a subject that came naturally to me, because I couldn’t remember a word of the assignment I’d skimmed just last night.

I hung out with Ivy and Fitz during the break between Sin and Sanction and Oathbreaking and assured them there would be no more study group lapses. Ivy was completely recovered from Serafina’s attack. Her red hair was unbound and flew madly around her face, which was pink with color and curiosity. Both she and Fitz wanted the scoop on Manipulation.

“You’re our entree into the madcap world of Maegesters,” Fitz said, chortling.

“Let’s get lunch at Marduk’s,” I said, suddenly missing it. I hadn’t been there since the night before Peter had left. “I’ll fill you in then.”

Fitz and Ivy nodded enthusiastically and we shuffled into Oathbreaking. I had to admit, I found the cases somewhat dull compared to the one we’d discussed in Manipulation. But I did my best to pay attention, take notes, and participate.

By late afternoon, Ivy, Fitz, and I were installed in a back booth at Marduk’s. I ordered the Innkeeper’s Pie. Fitz ordered a cheeseburger with a loaded baked potato and Ivy chose the vegetarian chili. I hoped they weren’t going fresh free because of me. While we waited for our food, I told them about the other MIT’s.

“Most of them sound pretty horrible,” Ivy said. “Too bad. I was hoping they might be more sympathetic.”

I gave her a dubious look. “Who cares about them?” I said. “I’ve got you two, right?”

Fitz sat up straight, a look of surprise on his face. Members of the Host didn’t usually go around telling Hyrkes how much they meant to them. His surprised look dissolved into an ear splitting grin and, I couldn’t be sure—it could have been the heat from the fire—but I thought I saw two spots of color form on his cheeks. My declaration of friendship had made Fitz blush.

Ivy smiled at me and grabbed my hand from across the table, squeezing it. “I knew I would like you from the moment that nose-blowing, lozenge-sucking student affairs lady told me you were my roommate.” She let go and leaned back in her chair.

“What about Ari? Where’s he?”

“We’re opposing counsel,” I said.

“No!” Ivy said, slapping her hand down on the table for emphasis. A&A had the same restrictions regarding collaboration outside of class. She and Fitz knew immediately why Ari and I wouldn’t be spending much time together during the rest of the semester.

“That’s rough,” Fitz said.

I nodded and tried to think of a way to change the subject.

“Ivy,” I said, “does your family ever have trouble with the level of the Lethe?”

“No. Why?”

“We were discussing a case today in Manipulation and some of the parties had trouble traveling on the Lethe because the river was so low.”

“Call Estes, the Lethe’s demon patron,” she said. She shrugged, indicating that this was a no-brainer. “The travelers need to make their sacrifices.”

I smiled to myself.
Exactly.
A simple solution to a simple problem. It was thinking like a Maegester that complicated things.

W
hen Ivy and I returned to Megiddo, I had two letters. The first one was from Peter.

Noon—

My parents were furious that I left Joshua School midterm. They made it clear I wasn’t welcome back home until the semester ended. Sound familiar? I suppose they thought I would slink back to school, but I moved into an old abandoned gardening shed at the edge of our property. I’ve been breaking into my own house at night to search for the spell. I half hope I’ll be caught just to see the look on my mother’s face.

The spell continues to elude me. The Aster Archives are a dirty, disorganized, and dusty place. My dad’s an Angel, but his faith is only a step above perfunctory and he’s no historian. I doubt my mother has ever even seen the crypts. Our records have been ill served.

I’ve found very little on my ancestor, Jonathan Aster, the Angel’s post-Apocalyptic scribe. I did find a previous version of his manuscript,
Last Stand,
however, its pages were so rotted and its ink so faded, it was impossible to read. Interestingly, his remains are not here in the family crypt. He must have been buried elsewhere.

Do not lose hope, Noon. I’m not giving up and you shouldn’t either. I’ll find the spell. I promise.

Peter

I considered Peter’s letter. It certainly showed a side of him I’d never seen before. He’d always been so diligent, so dutiful. I think the reason we’d never dated was because his mother hated me so much. The Peter I knew would never have defied her and I couldn’t imagine him breaking into any house, much less his own.

The second letter was even more unsettling. It was from Night.

Noon—

Maize is an amazing place, so full of life. I wish you could see it. I never thought I would be comfortable with who I am. I always wanted to be able to blow things up and blast people on sight. I guess you’re the one stuck with that power now.

Seriously, though, I hope you’ve found at least half the fulfillment in your new career as I have in mine. Can you picture me delivering a baby? But I have. Three, in fact. The one last night was a boy, born too early. He was jaundiced, anemic, and had a small hole in his heart. The touch of my hand on his chest healed him.

The only dark spot in Maize is worry over another missing Mederi. Our monarch informed us tonight that Peony Copperfield from the Gaia Tribe is now missing as well. Apparently, Gaia’s monarch was expecting her back in Farro last week to consult about a patient but she never showed and no one’s been able to find her.

Please be careful, Noon. Who knows where the rogare demon is hiding…

Night

I slept like the dead that night. I think it was the atomic release of emotions earlier with Ari. Or maybe it was realizing that declaring hadn’t changed everything. I still had Ivy and Fitz. We were still eating lunch at Marduk’s.

And I still hated having to eat Innkeeper’s Pie.

T
uesday dawned brighter and colder, reminding me that, though the Yule greens would be burned this week, winter was far from over. Ivy and I scarfed down stale pastries and coffee laced with sugar and headed to meet Fitz for a crack-of-dawn Sin and Sanction cram. Later, we suffered through Meginnis’ meandering morning lecture on esoteric Evil Deed remedies like detinue, replevin, and trover and howled over Fitz’s one-man skit about demon conflicts of interest in Council Procedure. I’d avoided looking in Ari’s direction throughout the morning’s classes, but couldn’t help noticing that Fitz’s antics made even him laugh. Dorio, never one to condemn a clown, gave Fitz extra class participation points. More than a few students were outraged. Neither Fitz nor Dorio cared. By late afternoon, it was time for Manipulation again.

Unlike A&A, Manipulation was held every day of the week. It was grossly unfair. If the demons didn’t kill us, the workload would. As Fitz and Ivy headed home, I tromped up to the fourth floor of Rickard, bracing myself for another brutal round with Rochester.

When I entered the classroom, only Rochester, Ari, and Mercator were there. In contrast to the day before, the environment was almost welcoming. I nodded to Rochester and Mercator and slipped into my seat beside Ari.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey yourself.”

It was kind of silly that I hadn’t talked to him yet since we’d already shared two classes.

“Fitz will end up as a litigator,” Ari said, chuckling. “And Ivy will become a lobbyist and represent the interests of the ferry owners on Satyr Hill.”

I scoffed. “How do you know?”

“Just a guess,” he said, smiling.

Rochester sat behind his desk, reading. His gaze flicked to us and, for the briefest moment, the edges of my signature shimmered as Rochester probed and prodded. He probably didn’t even know I knew what he was doing. But after yesterday’s release I couldn’t imagine there was much buildup of anything to get me in trouble so I let him. Perverse bastard. I stayed open and easy, continuing the casual banter that Ari had helpfully started when I walked in. We appeared, I hoped, like two students who were no more than friends.

Tosca, Brunus, and Sasha arrived en masse, which blew my somewhat buoyant mood. I shut down immediately to lessen the corrosive effect of their combined signatures. Sasha’s signature reminded me of rusted iron, which was interesting. I wondered what others felt when they encountered his magic. To me, it felt like he might once have been a strong magic user, but something had happened to him. Maybe he’d damaged his own magic through misuse or maybe he’d been attacked. Of course it was equally possible he’d been born that way.

In any case, he threw nothing my way, didn’t even look at me. Tosca came in like a dust devil, but the edges of his swirling vortex never reached me. Brunus scowled at me and took his seat beside Mercator, who he didn’t acknowledge at all.

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