Page 319 of Sigils & Spells

“She was a friend. A mentor at one time,” the headmistress said, and her voice took on a whimsical quality.

A knock sounded at the door, and we were joined by Leanna Stolbright, the magical talent scout who walked the world to find witches and wizards among the normals who needed training. She was a blonde-haired bitch of a woman, never smiled, and always seemed up to something forever writing notes in her little black book. She was the one who delivered my invitation to Westwood to my father, and before I could refuse, he’d sent me packing.

Okay, so maybe my hatred was a little biased.

Whatever.

“Headmistress, the Watchman sent Flint to see to your special request,” she gritted out and my pulse sped up.

It could not be.

What the fuck were the Fates up to now?

I scowled.

“Headmistress, I assure you I will make it to all my classes. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Well, Miss McKenna, I think you do,” she replied, and dismissed me with a wave of her hand.

I turned around angrily, ignoring Stolbright’s smirk, and almost bumping into my new six and a half foot nanny. Brandon’s face remained blank as he moved out of my way gracefully. I didn’t bother listening for his footsteps. The bastard was too good at being quiet.

“I missed the seminar already. You don’t have to follow me back to my room,” I growled.

“I take my orders from the Watchman, not you,mo spréach,” he replied easily.

“In that case, I’m not going back to my room. It’s only six-thirty, but I’ll be spending the rest of the night in the library.”

Take that, I thought mutinously.

The dragon would get bored, and I could be alone with my research. The earlier events of the day left me feeling better, though I admit, tired. I needed to find a way to not waste my stores of magic before the upcoming battle.

I grabbed a couple of heavy tomes from the shelf and sat at a table in the back. Brandon stood a few feet away from the back of my chair while I worked. It was disturbing the number of students who thought the library was some sort of party room. I guess that’s what happened when young people were presented with new authority figures.

Miss Cleve was whispering at the louder ones to hush, running from table to table, looking haggard as ever. I wondered if Mr. O’Flannery was enjoying his retirement; if not, maybe he would consider returning to his old post.

I was reading aHistory of Pyromantics, lost somewhere in the beautiful prose of Witch Elphaba Blair. She described the element I was born to as “the spark that birthed the creation of chaos” and I was simply hooked. It was a twist on chaos theory, speculating magic as the offspring of the great void before time began. In Witch Blair’s hypothesis, first, there was nothing, then there was fire, and from fire, everything.

“Here,” Brandon’s deep murmur sent shivers down my spine as he placed a mug of steaming chai beside me.

The fragrant drink made me sigh, and I took the cup, warming my hands from the chill I did not even know I’d developed.

“When did you leave?” I asked, puzzled.

“I didn’t. I had the cafeteria deliver this for you.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize they did that,” I mumbled, sipping the delicious brew.

“What had you smiling as you were reading?” he asked, and I looked up to see his gray eyes sharpen with curiosity.

“Oh, it’s just, the author’s voice is so passionate when she speaks about her element. Um, let me see. Here, listen to this.‘Fire has many natures. It is the creator, nurturing life, heating flesh, cooking food, purifying disease, tempering steel. But we must never forget, it is also the destroyer. Consuming all in its path. Burning at remarkable rates. Uncontrolled. Willful. It will always find a way. Fire is the symbol of destruction, of power, and of rebirth.’Well?” I asked and felt my cheeks heat in a way they hadn’t in weeks.

“Powerful,” Brandon said, his closeness doing insane things to my insides.

“Attention,” Miss Cleve’s voice rang loudly throughout the entire library, and I noticed the sentinel wince slightly at the sound.

Undoubtedly, the volume hurt his sensitive ears, and I wanted to throw something at the librarian just to shut her up. Too intense a reaction for me to have over someone who meant nothing to me.

Liar.

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