Page 8 of Heir of Autumn
“Okay then, no big deal,” I said. “You’re totally free to work on sewing projects or whatever, if you like.”
Satchel’s cheeks blushed faintly as he mumbled something that sounded like a bashful “Thanks.”
Dr. Fang chuckled and shook her head. “Just maybe stay away from spools of thread while you’re in the oriel. Or fishing lines, if you run into them. Haven’t seen anything this bad since the last time I had to free my cat from a ball of yarn. Hah. There’s a new nickname for you. Catchel.”
“Please, Doc,” Satchel groaned, smushing his hand against his face. “Let me keep what’s left of my dignity.”
I had to admit, Catchel was kind of cute.
4
I stareddown into my coffee cup, glaring at my latte as its fancy, artfully styled foam cooled, the little bubbles slowly popping. The barista had made a cute cartoon frog, but with how long I’d let the coffee sit, Señor Frog’s smile had turned into a frown, echoing my own expression. It was like looking into a mirror. A murky, milky mirror.
“You should drink it before it gets too cold,” Sylvain muttered, nudging me with his elbow, scraping his fork against his slice of cake.
“I will,” I grumbled.
There we were in one of the Wispwood’s cafés, a few of them scattered throughout the academy’s floors, ready to provide students with much-needed caffeine boosts. And we were with our friends as well. Having Bruna and Namirah around should have been enough reason to lift my spirits too, but — ugh.
“Evander fucking Skink,” I growled.
“There, there,” Bruna said, reaching across the table to pat the back of my hand.
Namirah lifted her enormous cup of coffee to her mouth, lips pursed in disapproval. “Should have kicked his head off his shoulders a long time ago.”
I frowned accusingly at my froggy coffee cup. “How could there possibly be only a single copy of a water-breathing spell on campus?”
“You mean a single simple copy,” Bruna said, resting her chin in her hand. “All the others are far more complex. Difficult. It’s like Evander knew.”
Namirah nodded. “And you have to take into consideration that the alternatives offered by human technology are more practical. Scuba diving, oxygen helmets, that sort of thing. Except you hardly have time to take classes and earn your certification, now do you?”
I crossed my arms and leaned back in my chair, defaulting to a scowl. “As if anyone’s going to be around to check on my certification. What, is there some elemental lifeguard waiting in the oriel to card me and see if I’m worthy?”
“Of course not,” Namirah said, scoffing. “The best you’ll get is Headmaster Shivers skimming the water line with one of those nets. You know, the kind to collect dead goldfish with? Except big enough to hold your water-logged body.”
I stared at her in horror, too shocked to form a proper response, gawping exactly like a goldfish. A not quite dead one.
“Namirah!” Bruna barked. “So inappropriate.”
“Am I wrong, though?” Namirah held both hands against her chest, eyes huge, fingers pointed at her heart. “Tell me. Am I wrong? I mean, why is anyone risking wading into the Oriel of Water at this point, anyway? That’s why you can’t find any good water-breathing spells. All forgotten. No demand.”
Of course, the natural course of our travels meant that we were also headed straight down the path into the Oriel of Fire, which was even crazier. But that was a problem for future Lochlann.
“You’re not wrong,” Bruna said patiently. “But this is important. Headmaster Belladonna herself tasked Locke with finding a way to enhance the Wispwell’s production. Remember, we’re trying to head off the infection on all fronts here. The oriels, the Verdance, and now, on Earth, too.”
I rubbed my palms in deep grooves up and down my thighs, jaw set, teeth clenched. “Gods above and below. It’s a lot of pressure, I’ll tell you that.”
“Would’ve been lovely if the task came with a reward,” Satchel said, strutting around on top of the table, weaving between our cups and saucers. “Not that you negotiated one, did you, Locke?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Listen, staying in Belladonna’s good graces will be reward enough. Knowing that she’ll be less likely to blast me into smithereens for wearing Aphrodite’s trinket is going to be a huge relief.”
“Ah, of course,” Sylvain said. “Her ongoing suspicion about the guardians. Well, our ongoing suspicion, I should say. Even the scary woman hasn’t been able to deduce your strange newfound ability, has she?”
“I’m going to assume that you meant Doctor Fang.” I held up two fingers. “You’ve called both her and Belladonna scary, so it’d help to be more specific.”
Sylvain tapped the edge of his plate with a fork. “I can’t help that I find them so intimidating,” he said, oddly meek.
Kind of cute, how my big, boisterous prince was okay with admitting that. It might have come from growing up around strong women, like his sister and his mother. I shuffled in my seat nervously, suddenly remembering that I was going to meet his scary women pretty soon, too.
