Page 112 of Possession

Before continuing, I take a breath. Of course, she had to be vague, offering a warning of the price but no mention of what it actually is.

But I’m willing to pay anything. If it’s eternal torture, then at least it’s something I’d have picked. I’d have a choice; I’d be free.

***

Hours later, and I haven’t started reading. I’ve read the notes Cera left, sought out a translation book from the library, and have everything spread before me; nothing should be holding me back, and yet… There's a line here, and, once I cross it, there’s no going back.

I’ve been agreeable my whole life, but it’s gotten me nowhere. I have to be ready to give what magic demands. I have to be able to protect myself instead of relying on Simon or Henry.

I flush at the thought of Henry. I feel bad for not telling him about my meeting with Cera and wonder if I should confide in him. It isn’t too late—maybe he could offer counsel before I do something that I can’t return from.

But what if he stops me?

I shut my eyes and imagine it: Henry would close the book and take it from me, kissing my eyelids until I fall back into him. And while resting in his arms, he’d make promises, telling me that he would keep me safe. Nothing would keep us apart; he would not allow anything to scare me.

In this fantasy, he might even say that he loves me. He might propose and tell me we’ll spend the rest of our lives together, that he can’t imagine us ever apart.

A romantic and stupid thought.

Aris won’t leave me alone, and Jaegen won’t either. Only the two of them can fight one another, so I need to pick a side and stick with it.

I’m not disillusioned enough to believe that I can learn anything that would protect me from them. For one thing, they’re gods. For another, magic takes years to learn. But this isn’t about becoming all powerful. There are only two things I need: to block Aris from reading my thoughts and to find a way to summon Jaegen on my own. Beyond that, I don’t know. If the price of magic is really so high, then I might stop there.

But, in order to stop, I’d have to actually start… which I can’t seem to do.

I sigh, frustratedly rubbing my temples. I know what I have to do, but it would be so much easier to do it if I knew the consequences of doing it.

But that’s just another secret.

My eyes narrow on the books in front of me, and I tap my thumb against my thigh, thinking. My nerves come from using magic, but reading isn’t the same thing as casting. When I do use it, I’ll have to know what each sigil means. I could start translating now and make the decision on using it later.

Finding this to be a fair middle, I start writing. And, almost immediately, I hate it. For one, the work is tedious; finding the translation for a single word can take up to thirty minutes. The print in both books is miniscule, and one is in cursive—not what I learned in school, but foreign cursive that complicates matching the letters to the translator’s alphabet. It’s extremely difficult to read and even harder to understand. What’s worse, I don’t know if I’m doing any of it right.

By some miracle, I make my way through the first three pages of the spellbook and am considering taking a break when my door slams open.

Heart racing and falling in my chest, my knee-jerk reaction is to throw the book across the room to hide what I’m doing. If the Grand Mage learns about my book, I’ve no idea what will happen. He could kick me out or lock me back up, and there’s not a thing I could do without it.

By some chance, the guy who bursts in doesn’t even notice the book. I don’t know him; I’ve seen him around once or twice, and he might live down the hall, but I’ve no idea who he is.

I go to tell the stranger off for barging in on me, but the look on his face stops me. His skin is pallid, eyes are wide and terrified. My words die in my mouth.

“The school!” he yells, gripping my door frame with trembling hands. “It’s under attack!”

Chapter twenty-six

The stranger stays for less than a second before rushing to the next door, throwing it open to repeat the same message.

“Attack?” I mutter as his voice gets quieter, becoming more strained and frenzied as he repeats himself.

Attack. The meaning of the word evades me for a moment because it makes no sense. It just doesn’t fit in this context; I can’t reconcile the hours I spent bored out of my mind, reading, with the fact that I’m now in danger.

I stare at the place the boy occupied, seconds ticking past, before something finally connects in my brain, forcing me into action. I rush to shut the door and drop to my knees to pack a bag, shoving clothes in with half a mind, retaining enough reason to also grab the spellbook and my translation tome. At the last moment, I pack a safety-pin as well.

Possessions condensed into one bag, I now hesitate, unsure what to do now. I need to see if Henry is all right, but the stairs to his room are difficult to get up, and he lives across the school.

I also need to know what’s going on. Has Aris come to take me back? But he’s locked away, isn’t he? And he wouldn’t leave anyone alive to warn me, unless he wants to play cat and mouse. But if not Aris, then, who?

Has Cera betrayed me so quickly? Is it the Following of the Forewarned or Cera, finally come to kill me? But how did they get in? Henry said that the brotherhood had to invite people to enter. If the Following is here, there must be a traitor of epic proportions in our midst.

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