Page 96
Story: Blood & Betrayals
The question I came to ask disintegrates into nothing, the ludicrosity of it too much to handle. “I was just wondering if,” I take a breath, trying to keep my voice even, “there is a potential motive yet, or if it is all just random.”
The irritation in his eyes melts a little, and he gazes steadily at me for a moment, thinking. He waves his hand again, and the door closes behind me. He reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out a small box. I tilt my head, watching as he opens it and pulls out a small pendant of raw black tourmaline. The shape is rough, with a rim of gold around it, but what makes the gem so captivating is the eight-pointed star of obsidian at the center. It is so polished and perfectly cut compared to the rough beauty of the tourmaline that they shouldn’t work together, but they fit.
The headmaster holds up the necklace by the chain. “You will wear this, tell no one, and never take it off.”
I frown, looking at the necklace. “Why?”
He quirks a brow at me, looking unimpressed. “It was not a request.”
“Will everyone be receiving one?” I ask.
His jaw twitches in annoyance. “No. You asked about a motive. There is one. You will wear this.” He waves his hand again, and an image appears in front of me. I can’t see the body, but I can already tell this is the scene of the crime. The gore is clear even from this angle, but that’s not what he’s showing me. On the wall behind her, written in blood, is a message.
SHE BEARS THE MARK OF NIMUE. SHE WILL BE OURS.
The blood trickling down from the letters turns my stomach, and a sense of foreboding slams into me, rattling my bones. A moment later, the screen is gone and the headmaster hands me a file. I look down at it, dread filling me.
“Open it,” he commands.
I try to swallow down my fear, but it lodges in my throat. Reluctantly, I open the folder. Inside is my completed application for the school. The handwriting is sloping, delicate, cramped, and flurried. It’s nothing like mine. The headmaster stands from his chair and rounds his desk, pointing to a seal in the top corner. The red wax curves into a half circle at the bottom, and above it is what looks like a woman standing in a lake. Her arms are at her sides, slightly outstretched, and her head is turned slightly to the left. It’s the most intricate seal I’ve ever seen.
“The mark of Nimue. Whoever applied for you has marked every single page with it.” He looks at me again and then lifts the necklace. “Now, are you going to continue to be stubborn?”
Maybe my original question wasn’t so ridiculous after all.
I shake my head, brushing my fingers over the mark. “No, sir. I just… I don’t understand. This is very overwhelming.”
The headmaster stands in front of me and sits on the edge of his desk. He gently pries the file from my hands, and it disappears into thin air. “I understand, but you’re not a person who will buckle under the strain, are you?”
My spine straightens at the challenge, and I meet his gaze. “No, sir.”
He nods once and then pushes off the desk. Standing behind me, he puts the necklace around my neck, and I twist my hair up to help him. “You tell no one.” I shiver when the pendant touches my chest. When I look up, the headmaster is standing in front of me again. “The authorities do not know about the connection to you, and I would like to keep it that way. Unfortunately,” his jaw ticks, “they know about Mr. Morningstar. I could not prevent it.”
I swallow, touching the pendant. The power sparks under my fingers, but it immediately warms to me, licking curiously at my skin. “She… She looked like me. Do you think they thought?—”
“It’s a possibility,” he replies without letting me finish my thought. Obviously, he had noticed. “Do not blame yourself for the actions of a killer,” he says as if reading my thoughts.
I look away, the guilt sinking deeper into me.
The headmaster tsks. “You are stronger than this, Miss Tuatha De Daanan.”
Why does he keep saying that? And why is it working on me? Why do I want his words to be true? Why do I want to be stronger?
I look back at him, nodding. “Yes, sir.”
“There are those who die in the fire and those who thrive in it.” He walks back around his desk and sits down in his chair. “We’ll speak soon.”
I nod and turn, walking toward the door, but I pause before leaving his office, my hand on the handle. I glance over my shoulder at him. “I’m glad you’re back, sir.”
He looks at me, those silver eyes seeing way too much, but he simply nods and picks up another file from his desk.
Connor is leaning against the wall when I leave Headmaster Emrys’s office. He smiles sheepishly when he sees me. “Hi, babe.”
“Con? You’re going to see Headmaster Emrys?”
He shakes his head. “Alice told me you were here.”
I lift my eyebrows, making a mental note to discuss with Alice how much of this situation we should tell Connor. If any of it.
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