Page 54 of Fate's Sweetest Curse
“I think the alcohol is giving her acid hiccups,” Sani said to Viren. “We’re on a trek for some bread.”
“Good idea.” Viren’s gaze cut to mine and held for one beat, two, before she regarded Sani again. “Nice to meet you, Sani. Hattie, I’ll see you around.”
We split up, Viren heading upstairs and Sani and I continuing down.
When we reached the ground floor and were far out of hearing range from Viren—whom I was pretty certain possessed sound magic—I piped up. “Viren is—”
“On the research team,” Sani finished. “I figured.”
“I was going to say ‘nice.’” I lowered my voice, choosing my words carefully so that I didn’t upset my Oath again. “How did you know?”
“Only an Oath would make you choke on your own words like that.”
“I’ve never had that happen before.”
“She must be a specialist.”
I cast a sidelong glance at Sani, surprised by the accuracy of her observation.
“Secret research programs don’t divulge their specialists,” Sani explained. “It’s too revealing.”
“What if folks already knew about her specialty before she took her Oath?” I asked.
“Specialties evolve; her current work can’t be proven.” A shrug. “It’s not a perfect system,” Sani added. “And I’m not sure of the exact rules of your Oath, but your inability to talk about Viren’s role means that something about it is…sensitive.”
I study blood, she’d told me.
According to my Oath, thatmattered.
“You’re astute, you know that?” I said, poking Sani with my elbow.
She gave me a coy shrug and looped our arms again. “I’m an apprentice of the Archives, remember? We love context.”
Silvery moonlight slanted through the high windows that lined one side of the ground floor walkway. Students loitered in the hall, some sitting on the windowsills, others leaning lackadaisically against the wall, chatting and flirting. It was well after suppertime, but it seemed half the student body at the Collegium was nocturnal.
“Your hiccups excuse…” I said slowly, thinking aloud. “You did that on purpose. Why did you not want Viren to know you caught on to my Oath’s interference? Why feign ignorance?”
Sani’s voice barely rose above the echo of our footsteps on the marble tile. “At the Collegium, knowing more than you ought can be dangerous.”
Knowing too much almost got me killed, Hattie, Anya had said.
I didn’t like the similarity in their sentiments.
“Are you still worried about me being murdered?” I teased. “You know, not all research programs hold political significance.”
“The secret ones do, though.”
Something about her tone made me stiffen. Fear spread in my belly like an ink-drop in water, a black wisp of dread. With my arm still looped through hers, I pulled her off to the side, stopping in the relative shelter of a recessed doorway.
“What do you know, Sani?” I whispered.
She lifted her chin, a world of mystery in her dark eyes. “People forget that history isn’t simply the documentation of the past—it’s a study of behavior. The observations I make? They’re shaded by the context of what I’ve learned.”
Sani paused, waiting for a gaggle of oblivious half-drunk students to walk past. Once they’d disappeared down the hallway, she continued. “There’s a reason history repeats itself: it’s because people don’t learnfrom their mistakes—not even when mistakes are spelled out by the Mirrors of Fate. The future isn’t a placid lake, untouched by what surrounds it—it’s a river that flows from the past, with a strong and erosive current. Knowledge, politics, Fate—they all have momentum. Inertia.”
“But do you know—”
“I don’tknowanything,” Sani interrupted. “But I see patterns, Hattie. And the patterns I’m seeing lately… Time and time again, they’ve proven to be deadly.”
