Page 49

Charlotte leans forward in her seat.

“Who do you think did it?” she whispers.

My fears expand in my chest.

It may be my fault. I released an ancient evil, and he may be preying on young witches.

I catch Sybil’s eye before I swallow my nerves and shake my head.

“No clue,” I say to Charlotte.

No one else at the table has a better answer.

It’s only after dinner, when Sybil and I go to her room to work on our first assignments, that I decide to unburden myself.

I try to not let my chin tremble as I sit there on her floor, one of my textbooks open in front of me, while my friend moves about the room, watering dozens of potted plants crammed on shelves or hanging from the ceiling.

Now that a witch is dead—a witch who lived down the hall from me—I can’t help the terror seeping into my veins.

“He found me,” I say softly, jiggling one of my legs in agitation.

Sybil pauses. “Hmm?” she says, pausing to glance over her shoulder at me.

“Memnon,” I say. “He found me.”

“Wait.” Sybil sets down her watering pail. “What?” Her shrill tone has her owl ruffling his feathers before he resettles on his perch.

“Yesterday, when I was getting ready to head back here, he found me. He was lurking in the woods around the coven.”

“Are you okay?” she says, alarmed. “Did he hurt you? Threaten you?”

I swallow and shake my head. “I’m fine. No, he didn’t hurt me. Yes, he threatened me,” I answer.

“Hethreatenedyou?” Sybil’s voice has gone shriller. “Screw the Law of Three and its consequences, I will find a curse so potent, it will shrivel his dick off.”

I laugh a little at the thought.

Sybil sits in front of me, pushing my textbook aside. “Tell me everything about what happened.”

So I do.

By the end of it, Sybil has paled. “So this guyactuallythinks you’re his wife?”

I nod miserably.

“And he followed you all the way here to Henbane?”

Another nod.

I twist my hands together, chewing on my lower lip. “And now a witch is dead,” I say softly.

Realization fills Sybil’s eyes. “You think he did it.”

I scrub my face. “I don’t know. It seems awfully likely though, right? He shows up, and the next day, a witch is dead.”

Sybil shakes her head. “That…definitely doesn’t look good,” she agrees. “But it could still be a coincidence.”

I want to believe that. I really do. Otherwise, that witch’s death is on my conscience.