Page 16 of Wilds of Wonder
My eyebrows shot up. That wasn’t a terrible idea. I’d rather go with him than them. At least I’d have more time to plan an escape. Maverick wasn’t a guard. He was a scholar. I could work with that. Plus... did this mean I’d actually get to see the inside of the academy?
Probably not what should be on my mind at this moment.
The guards looked at each other uneasily. “That’s not what we were told?—”
“I’m the queen’s historical advisor,” Maverick said, voice sharp. “And if I want to bring someone in for questioning because they have priceless historical artifacts, then don’t you think Her Majesty would give me that leeway?”
The guard cleared his throat. “I suppose so, sir.”
Maverick gave a sharp nod of his head. “Then it’s settled. You can escort us to the academy, then escort them to the castle when I’m done questioning them about some of these”—his gaze flicked to the scarf wrapped around my neck—“unusualitems.”
With that he spun on his heel and strode away, and I had no idea whether to be relieved or terrified. Possibly both.
“Does that mean we’re supposed to follow?” Driscoll gestured after him.
The guards grabbed us and shoved us forward. “I guess so,” I mumbled as we marched through the snow and straight toward the Academy of Scholars & Historians.
Chapter Nine
MAVERICK
Ihad to be seeing things. Or I was losing my mind. That was the only explanation for my current situation.
Imagine my surprise when on my morning walk to the academy, I’d seen a random woman running through the streets, snow flying up behind her—and she was in nothing but her nightgown and a white fur cloak. At first, I thought she was running because she’d stolen the chest she was clutching so tightly, and I was going to let the guards handle it. Then I’d gotten a closer glimpse of the chest, of those etchings on it. They depicted the impacious fish, a rare species of flesh-eating fish that existed in the Old World. We had at least two of their skeletons on display in our academy museum, as well as some of their teeth.
I didn’t trust the guards to recognize such an important relic, so I had to intervene. My plan had been to seize the chest—until I’d laid eyes on that scarf wrapped around her neck. One thought to have been worn by one of Spirit Sky’s lovers. A scarf that I’d thought had been stolen by the white rabbit.
The very same scarf currently wrapped around that woman’s neck.
I shot a glance behind me as the guards prodded the woman and hercompanions forward. The others looked familiar, though I couldn’t quite figure out why. The tall, lanky man had produced earth magic, so he was clearly from Elwen, and the pale, short woman had used water magic, which meant she was from Apolis. So what in the bloody fires were they doing here with this woman in the frost court?
The historian in me wanted to piece this together, but the logical part of my brain reminded me that I had far greater problems to worry about. I was leaving soon. Today, in fact. On a long journey that I had barely prepared for. An important journey.
But Lady Emory Growley was wearing a scarf stolen by the white rabbit. I’d never formally met Mrs. Growley, but I’d met her husband many times.
Her husband.Fuck.
It didn’t help that she was distractingly gorgeous with her white-blonde hair that reminded me of the palest rays of the sun when they splashed across the snow. Her creamy complexion, pink cheeks, and even pinker lips. Those ice-blue eyes that seared into me.
I shouldn’t have interfered with this, but I did, and now I needed to confirm my suspicions that Emory was who I thought she was.
A blast of wind rustled my coat, and I pulled it tighter and summoned my fire magic, letting it flow through my blood and warm me against the chill. If it weren’t for the academy, I would never step foot in this court again.
That wasn’t true. A faint voice in my head whispered that there was something else keeping me here, but that voice wasn’t one I ever allowed myself to listen to.
Ahead, the street led straight to the Academy of Scholars & Historians. A huge grassy expanse opened up in front of the academy, dusted with white. Thick trees shot up in the air, branches sagging with the recent snowfall. Benches lined a walking path that led to the front doors of the academy. It was an impressive building made from crystal that shimmered and reflected the snowy world around us. It rose up with tall, pointed peaks that looked like jagged glass.
Emory and her friends stared at it in awe.
I pushed open the large glass double doors, the winter wind barreling in behind me. Students eyed me, some brave enough to makeeye contact but most avoiding my gaze. I glared at a first-year student, and she yelped and swiftly turned to go in the other direction.
Others scurried past, hurrying to their classes. A tall silver clock stood against the back wall, which would ring in a few moments, signaling the start of morning classes. I had an assistant handling the one class I still taught. He’d be taking over my class until I was back from my trip. If I came back.
Two sets of wide staircases wound upward on either side of the room, and I veered to my right, not bothering to look behind me as I marched upward.
The clock struck nine, the bell dinging out its final warning as stragglers raced to their classes and doors began slamming closed. Anyone who didn’t make it on time would not be allowed in. We didn’t tolerate tardiness at the academy. The final door closed, the last patter of footsteps fading away.
All at once, everything fell quiet. Students in their classes, professors now lecturing. All was right. I let out a breath of relief as I turned to the right and walked down a hallway lined with doors, then stopped at the one on the left with my name printed across the glass: Maverick Von Lucas, Master Historian.
