Page 54 of House of Marionne

“I belong here.” I mutter the mantra to myself, but it sounds hollow. I squirm to get a bit more comfortable with this thing on my head. Careful to not shove it into the pillow too hard. I pull the covers tight to my chin, and my thoughts shift to Octos, the tally marks all over his arms. The rogue life he lives. But I have my own self-destruction to fight off. I hug my pillow and obey my heavy eyelids.

“I belong here,” I say again, low enough so Abby can’t hear. I have to say it until I believe it. I have to say it so I can face tomorrow.

PART THREE

SEVENTEEN

Morning comes entirely too soon, but despite my heaviness from too little sleep I pop out of bed. Abby’s already gone. After a bit of curtsy practice and table manners studying, I’m up and dressed and out the door for etiquette. But downstairs, the grand foyer is set like an auditorium with chairs arced around a podium.

“You’re here.” Abby hooks her arm into mine, guiding me to a seat.

“What is all this?”

“She called an assembly this morning because of last night.”

“My diadem?”

She snorts and points to the Sphere, which hangs above the impending meeting, its blackened matter tossing to and fro treacherously. The tiniest crack lines its surface.

“Was that crack always there?”

She shakes her head. “Happened last night.”

As we move to a pair of seats in the back, I quickly realize the foyer isn’t swarming just with students, but with adults, too. This is serious. I clear my throat and press back into my seat. Fear wells up in me. My diadem emerged the same night the Sphere cracked. I hope that is a coincidence.

“It’s a big deal, seems like?” I say to Abby.

She faces me, thunderstruck. “A huge deal. If the Sphere ever empties, magic is gone. For half a century at least.”

I stiffen, her words ricocheting through me. “Gone?”

“Yep. Gone. No magic. Anywhere.”

I’m sure it’s hard for her to imagine a world without magic. But the thought doesn’t sit with me the same. If there was no magic, I’d be free in a way.

“And, rumor has it, the Headmistresses of the Houses would pay the price.” Her countenance pinches with the hint of something sinister. She slides a thumb under her throat. “I mean, it’s only a rumor, but still.”

I’d say execution seems a bit severe, but those who’ve earned their place, built their trades around magic, would be livid. They’d expect someone to pay for it.

“Is there a way to fix it or patch it or something?”

“No idea. No one even knows where the Sphere is. When it was made, it was hidden for the protection of all magic.”

The crowd is a sea of golden and silver diadems, and the events of last night pick at me. The Sphere commands my attention. Its tiny specks—names—etched on its surface seem to gleam angrily. Blackened matter crashes against its glassy surface, ferocious and thrashing as if it intends to claw its way out. I bite down knowingly. That’s how my toushana feels.

My hands twinge with a hint of chill as my worry unfurls. I rub them together, fixated on the Sphere hovering like a foreboding storm. I press my feet more firmly to the floor and urge away the cold seeking purchase in my bones.

“It’s so angry,” I say, before forcing myself to look away.

Abby cocks her head. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. I guess it does sort of look mad. My father told me the stuff inside used to be clear with glowing granules of Dust.”

“So the Sphere’s been changing for a while?”

“Guess so, yeah.”

Then it couldn’t have anything to do with me.

“My parents are up in arms about something disturbing the balance.”

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