Page 37 of House of Marionne

She snatches up her bag. “You’re going to stress yourself out of emerging. There’s a reason Secundus and Primus are still practicing that with you in class. It takes time. Magic can be stubborn.”

“Tell me about it.”

She hands over her notes.

Abby’s kindness tugs at me. The disaster with Grandmom tiptoes through my memory. I feel like an outsider everywhere but in this room, it seems. “Are you going to hang out here awhile? I need to study, maybe we can study together or something.”

“For sure. Hey, are you all right?”

“Sorry, was that weird?”

“No. You just . . . For a moment you seemed sad or something.”

“I’m fine, really.” I turn my back to her and skim the first page and immediately spot a problem with how I’ve been doing things. It suggests when I feel the heat of the Dust stirring in me, instead of trying to amplify it right away, I should latch on to it and just hold it there. Let it rev up like an engine to make it even stronger. I sit on my bed, pondering. I’ve definitely been latching on to the warmth and trying to spread it right away. So that it chases away my toushana. Maybe this can help.

“How long did it take you to emerge?”

“Sixty-three hours.”

A little over two days. “Hmm.”

“Oh my goodness, girl.”

“What?”

Abby tosses her plate aside and primps in the mirror. “Come out with me?”

“Out. No, I don’t—”

“You’re way too uptight. You won’t emerge if you’re wound up like this. You need to relax.” She squeals. “And I know the perfect place.”

Going out is not my scene. I’m already in a fishbowl here. “No, really. I need to study.”

“Oh, come on. There’s hotties there,” she says as if that’s a dangling carrot that has any appeal at all to me. A strangled laugh escapes my throat at the ridiculousness.

“And gossip.” She swipes my schedule from my desk.

Right, which is why I shouldn’t be there. I laugh again, but she mistakes it for my being excited and throws an arm around my shoulder.

“Please.” She holds my schedule up. “You don’t even have morning sessions tomorrow, so you can sleep in.”

“I’d planned to use that time to practice and get to the library.” I also need to get a better handle on my toushana. Its random thrashing inside me is going to get me killed.

“I’ll take you to the library myself at eight. I swear!” She crosses her heart with her half-eaten slice and holds it up in salute. “You won’t regret it, I promise. Literally everyone who’s anyone will be there. It’s better than the end-of-Season balls, and those are usually so wild they make Debs Daily.”

“Fine,” I relent. “If relaxing will help, I’ll go. But only for a couple of hours. I need to make some real progress.”

“You’ll probably emerge by the time you wake up tomorrow, Marionne.”

I sift through the closet of clothes Grandmom gave me for something that looks casual and not super noticeable. Maybe black. Or gray. Abby refreshes her makeup and slips into a dress that accentuates her diadem. Grandmom didn’t give me any T-shirts or comfy pants. I settle on an olive top that ties at the waist and my same pair of dingy jeans.

“What’s this place we’re going called?” I ask, grabbing my bag.

“The Tavern, why?”

“I was going to leave Grandmom a note.”

“Don’t be dense.” She takes the pen out of my hand. “The Tavern is obviously prohibited, which is precisely why we’re going.”

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