Page 12 of A Dusk Of Stars

Living, breathing, watching.

And they’re out of focus somehow, but I can see Serra’s eyes narrow at me and I can feel the touch of her hand on my upper arm, but my mind is buzzing and blank all at once and it’s taking all I have not to turn on my heel and flee into the safety of my room.

I catch myself running my hand down my face, saying, “Sorry, Professor Naehorn, I just…”

The next thing I know, her face is coming into focus again. “It’s alright. I take it you’ve completed your task?”

I just look at her for a second, realizing that this is the moment of truth.Thisis the moment I either tell her or keep my mouth shut.

It’s right then and there that I decide that it wasn’t my fault — that I ended up in the Lexarcanum. Even if I did mess something up, I’ll find out and I’ll fix it.

My lips curl into a smile. I’ll fix it as the Grimm Academy Archivist.

“Yes, Professor Naehorn,” I finally tell Serra. “I’ve completed the task.”

She gives me a smile. “You know, you don’t have to attend the ceremony if you’re too worn out.”

Now my stomach is fluttering with excitement. Sure, I feel more messed up than I’ve felt in ages, but it’s just the effects of the Restricted Section magic. Hell if I’m going to let that take this moment away from me — taking the Archivist’s seat at the Grimm Academy Opening Ceremony, in front of everyone who’s ever failed to take me seriously.

Chapter 5

My mind is still buzzing, but I register Professor Byrne droning on even before we walk inside. The Dining Hall anteroom is dimly lit and filled with professors standing around in groups with drinks in their hands, all turned in Byrne’s direction. That man is standing right next to him, looking over his shoulder to watch Serra and I enter as this slight but charismatic smile slides off his face. This time, I don’t let my eyes linger on him.

In fact, I don’t let myself linger on anything in particular, following Serra as she weaves her way to the refreshments table. There’s something not quite right with me. It's just too much — the details on the faces of people around me, the sounds they’re making while breathing, the smells wafting up to me from their hair, their skin, their clothes. The same goes foreverythingaround me. What’s surprising me most is how fast I am at registering movement — bringing of glasses to lips, shifting fromfoot to foot, leaning to whisper something in someone’s ear. It’s so fast, it feels like predicting it before it even happens.

Trying to fight the overwhelming feeling, I grab a drink and give Serra a nod. She leaves to stand with Lorcan and I find Carrel and Nolan by the wall with the tapestry of the War of the Elements hung to the right of the closed door leading into the Dining Hall.

We exchange smiles, but to my relief, everyone’s attention is still on Professor Byrne. I don’t think I’m capable of small talk right now.

When I turn to Byrne myself, I finally let my gaze fix on the man standing next to him with a drink in his hand.

Gods, I’m seriously distraught. Because it’s only then that it starts dawning on me, what his presence in this room must mean.

He’s the new professor.Heis Jericho Bane. And the fact is very confusing. Because he looks nothing like the image of the shriveled-up asshole from my head.

For starters, he’s around my age, maybe a couple of years older.

Then there’s the fact that he looks more like a movie star gazing at you from a billboard than someone you’d expect to see in your workplace — tall, athletic, his defined jaw cleanly shaven, and his thick, short brown hair swept back, with a defiant strand still falling out of rank here and there. He’s dressed in perfectly tailored dark gray pants and a crisp white shirt that only draws the eye to the slight tan of his radiant skin.

Then there’s his demeanor, which becomes more contradictory the more you look at him. It’s so easy and confident, yet there’s this tension and discipline in his every movement. Whenever Byrne glances at him, Bane gives a nod, his lips stretching to show off a set of perfect teeth in a smile that’s easy and charismatic, yet undeniably bored.

“With that, I hope we will make you feel welcome here,” Byrne finally concludes his little speech.

Anticipation builds inside me before Bane’s voice fills the room with a deep, smoky timbre with a touch of something sharp, “Thank you, I’m sure you will.”

It makes my eyebrows pull down, that thing inside me stirring.

His eyes sweep over us all with such knowing intensity, lingering on my frown as he says, “And I hope to justify the welcome.”

This time, his gaze is like a wave crashing into and rolling over me, making my frown grow deeper.

The next thing I know, everyone around me is raising their glasses in a toast and breaking into a loud chatter.

I tear my eyes away from Bane, only then noticing how divided his presence has made us.

While my own group and a couple of others remain where we’re standing, throwing suspicious or judgmental looks in the direction of the big shot who’s come to exert his dubious influence over our students, other groups don’t waste time closing in on him, creating a circle of sycophants fighting for his attention, the women more so than the men.

It all makes me sick to my stomach, but at least I seem to be slowly going back to normal. The sights, sounds and smells around me are getting duller, my mental focus is sharpening and I don’t feel as distraught as I did a moment ago.

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