Page 11 of A Court of Ash and Midnight
“It’s nice to meet you both,” I say. I know enough from my travels to know that an Incantrix is the fancy term for a magic wielder, though I have no idea what the degrees mean, or how many levels there are. I file that away mentally for investigation at a future date.
The professors both offer me thin smiles, but it’s clear they are less than enthused to be here. It seems Professor Julian is my only ally at Shadow’s Keep.
“I brought you here, Embyr, because I figured we shouldn’t waste any time in discovering why you appeared at our doorstep, and why you’ve been hunted all these years.” Professor Julian fixes me in a gaze that makes me feel a bit like a butterfly about to be pinned to a board. “Whether you realize it or not, there must be something about you that these hunters wish to gain.”
There’s a moment of silence, and under the weight of three sets of heavy gazes, I have to fight the urge to flee the room. Especially since it’s clear from the expressions on the faces of theother two that they don’t believe there’s anything special about me.
So, I decide to rob them of the satisfaction and cut right to the heart of it. “I am flattered, Professor Julian, but what if I’m a perfectly ordinary human? And what if this is all some coincidence, or perhaps I’m only being hunted because of some family vendetta I can’t recall?”
The Professor juts his chin out stubbornly. “Even if that is the case, that must be quite the vendetta for someone to hunt you relentlessly for eight years. That isn’t nothing, is it?”
“I suppose not,” I say slowly. “But I—I hate to impose on your hospitality only to disappoint you.”
“Why don’t you let me worry about that, hmm?” He crosses his arms over his chest and looks down at me. “Come over here by the window. We’re going to do some simple tests.”
I hesitate a moment before forcing my feet to carry me across the room. I hate the way my heart pounds in my chest. “What kind of tests?” I ask when I’m in position by the window, though I know very well what he’s going to say before he says it.
“Magical ones, dear. Now, relax and let us get to work.”
Professor Gwynoch approaches me first, looking at me disdainfully with her turquoise eyes. She raises elegant hands in the air before her, and I feel a stir of magic. It feels like a storm brewing… the air growing tighter, an electricity riding on it, a faint taste of metal and rain on the back of my tongue. A chilly wave of air spirals up and around me, a slow-moving cyclone that encircles my body. I can feel the moisture on it, and when I fidget in discomfort, I bump into a wall of mist and feel a small zap like lightning against my skin. I freeze and fight to keep myself from clamping my eyes shut in fear.
After what seems an eternity, the professor lowers her hands and the magic falls still. “Nothing,” she says in a cool tone, casting a pointed gaze at Professor Julian.
Looking unruffled, Julian gestures for Professor Wyllora to approach.
My whole body tenses as the raven-haired fae comes toward me. The elemental air magic had been unnerving enough. What kind of test is an Incantrix who specializes in dead spirits going to perform on me?
Wyllora does not raise her hands as Gwynoch had done. She simply stands before me, hands clasped behind her back. I don’t notice anything at first, but then the air begins to grow cold. Not cool and misty as it had before, but downright icy. I feel a shiver of air move past my left shoulder, and I flinch. I can’t help it. There’s anotherwhooshof air, and riding on it, a soft susurration, a whisper. My heart starts pounding so loudly I’m certain they can all hear it, my blood feeling like fire in my veins. The soft stirs and whispers grow in numbers until there are at least a dozen different voices, so faint that I can barely hear them, but loud enough to make me question my sanity.
What’s most unsettling is the way Professor Wyllora’s gaze sweeps back and forth beyond me. She’s clearly looking at something I can’t see. Many somethings.
This test goes on for nearly a quarter hour.
Finally, the voices cut off abruptly and silence falls around me. Wyllora turns to look at Julian. “Nothing yet. The spirits will investigate and get back to me.”
My mouth feels dry, my tongue thick and heavy. “You…you spoke to my ancestors?”
“No, of course not,” she says sharply. “If I had, then I would have answers already. The ones I did summon will seek your ancestors and see if we can discover something useful.” Her tone indicates that she finds this incredibly unlikely.
“And what did the first test do?”
Professor Gwynoch looks bored. “I was testing to see if you had a reaction to the air element. You did not.”
“I could feel it, though… like a storm,” I say.
“That’s not the reaction we’re looking for,” she scoffs.
I raise my brows. “But… it’s not as if I could have magic.”
“On the contrary,” Professor Julian says, “most humans possess at least some magic. It’s just further below the surface and takes more training to summon it, unlike the fae.”
“And you think… you thinkIpossess some sort of magic?”
“One would assume, given your history.” He shrugs. “Why else would these hunters go to such trouble?”
“I can think of several possibilities, Julian,” Wyllora says dryly.
He ignores her, staring at me again in that way that makes me feel like an experiment, a specimen.
