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The water crashed down around her. The noise was at once both deafening and silent as together Alex and the river plummeted to the ground. She tried to look down, but all she could see was more water falling beneath her and a cloud of mist much further on where the waterfall disappeared into whatever was below.

Falling.

Falling.

Falling.

Inexplicably, the moment Alex entered the mist she started to slow down. Her speed continued to decrease as she fell through the spray, blinded by the haze. When her vision finally cleared, her eyes widened in shock for a single moment before she crashed into the watery surface below.

It wasn’t the landing that had surprised her, but rather the scenery around her. She’d seen it before, only an hour or so ago, hanging in the foyer of the Library. It was as if Alex wasinsidethe oil painting—as if she’d fallen down the same waterfall and into the lake that spiralled through the valley.

She didn’t have the chance to wonder about the impossibility since, even though the vapour had slowed her progress, the fall had still pushed her deep into the water. Instead of stopping, Alex felt herself being pulled further down, and she tried not to panic as everything became darker all over again.

After a few seconds Alex noticed a light up ahead, almost as if someone had turned a lamp on underwater. Whatever was pulling her down continued to drag her closer to the light, and it became larger and larger until she was pulled straight into it… and out the other side.

Alex landed on a cold, hard floor, sucking in huge gulps of desperately needed air. She was frozen to the bone, saturated, and lying in a pool of water. But she was also alive and back in the Library’s foyer, after having apparently fallen straight through the oil painting. As she lay there gasping and shivering, she stared at the picture and remembered her earlier thoughts about it being so masterfully created that it looked like the water was rushing straight out of the picture. Someone clearly had a warped sense of humour.

Alex painfully sat up, shaking feeling back into her frozen limbs. A long, hot shower and some nice warm soup would have her back to normal in no time, she hoped. Fletcher would never let her live it down if she had to visit him twice before term even started. That just wouldn’t do.

Distracted by her thoughts and the uncomfortable sensation of her circulation easing back into her now tingling extremities, Alex only realised she wasn’t alone when someone cleared their throat, interrupting the silence.

Oh, the librarian was going tokillher for the watery mess she’d accidentally caused.

“We have to stop meeting like this.”

Alex frowned in confusion when she heard the smooth, melodic voice that definitely didn’t belong to the grisly librarian. She looked around and, after gaping for a moment, Alex came to her senses and forced herself up to her still-tingling feet.

Despite having just fallen out of a painting, Alex’s only thought was that she must look like a drowned rat with her dripping hair and her clothes plastered to her trembling body. If there was one person in the world who she most certainly didnotwant to look like a drowned rat in front of, it was this man.

“Aven,” she breathed, still panting lightly after her previous lack of air.

“Alexandra,” he greeted, smiling as he leaned casually against the wall. “I’d hoped we’d meet again soon, but I must say, I never presumed the circumstances would be quite asdramaticas this.”

“Heh,” she tried to laugh but it sounded awkward. She felt like she’d just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“I decided to drop by for a visit,” he continued, taking a step towards her, “but I have to say, your arrival was much more spectacular. This is indeed a pleasant surprise. I had no idea you were so…familiar… with your Library here.”

Alex swallowed nervously. He was too entrancing, too mesmerising—just like the other times they’d met. She shifted backwards, and his narrowed gaze followed her movement.

“I like to study.” Alex tried to act nonchalant. “Libraries are good for that.”

“This one in particular, or so I hear,” he said, his golden eyes staring straight into her own.

She wondered for a horrible moment if Aven was gifted with mind-reading abilities, like Professor Marmaduke and possibly Marcus Sparker. He’d claimed to have studied at the academy, which meant he must have a gift of some description, but she had no idea what he was capable of doing.

Dancing elephants wearing pink tutus. She dredged up the bizarre mental image and watched his face for a reaction. None came. No surprise, no amusement, nothing to indicate that he could read her thoughts—much to her relief.

“I guess it’s pretty good,” Alex agreed. She then started rambling, hoping to distract him. “But it doesn’t always help much with the practical subjects. You would know that, since you went here. Studying doesn’t work for PE, hey? Or even Combat. Actually, most of the classes here are pretty hands-on, come to think of it. So, yeah, it’s a great library, but not always a big help in those areas.”

She really didn’t like the look in his eyes. It was a calculating, knowing look that left Alex with an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was definitely time for her to get out of there.

“I’m making a mess,” she said, validating her excuse by gesturing to where her clothes were still dripping water onto the floor. “I should get going.”

Aven moved then—much faster than she thought possible—and he clamped his fingers around her upper arm.

“I don’t believe we’ve finished catching up yet.” His grip was so firm that it was almost painful, especially considering her body was still tingling uncomfortably. “It would seem we now have much more to talk about, Alexandra Jennings. All along I’d hoped I was right about you, but I was never certain. Now, much to my pleasure, I’m confident in my belief of who you are and what you can do.”

Alex tried to pull away from him, but he only tightened his grip more, enough that she was sure he would leave bruises.