Page 44 of House of Marionne

I reach for it, but my fingers crash into his. He takes my hand and gently unfolds my palm and sets the badge inside it.

I clear my throat. “Thank you.”

“Are you surprised I like to read?” he asks.

I snatch my hand away and loop the lanyard around my neck.

“You wear everything you’re thinking on your face, Quell.”

“Not everything.” I grind my teeth. “Thank you, Mrs. Loudle. I shouldn’t be too long. Session is starting soon.” I hurry off, hoping to avoid any questions from Jordan about why I’d want to peruse the Secundus section.

“So have you been busy with . . . you know?” Loudle asks. “Nasty whispers about the Sphere, I’m hearing. Do you know if toushana has something to do with it? Darkbearer days are gone, they say. But ‘they say’ a lot of things.”

I slip past them inside. Hopefully she’ll keep him wrapped in conversation for a few beats longer so I can peruse without a stalker on my heels.

The Secundus section is much quainter, with lounge chairs for reading. It’s completely empty, which is a small relief. Shelves cover every inch of wall space. There’s even a decorative ladder of blankets in a corner. I pick a section and scour the book spines, periodically checking to be sure Jordan’s still tied up in conversation outside. Nothing on Draguns.

I graze another row for anything even close to toushana, Dragun lore, or Order history. A set of cracked leather spines embossed with gold lettering catches my eye on a low shelf. The Rare Breed. I have to get down all the way on my knees to pull them out. They are unyielding when I tug, like they haven’t been touched in forever. I pull harder, and one gives.

The rest of the letters on the spine have worn off, but inside, the title page is intact. Draguns: The Rare Breed, vol. 1 of 3. I grab it and the two others, creating a small stack in my arms. I glance back again, and Jordan’s pulling away from Mrs. Loudle. My heart thrums faster as I move to the checkout table. I slip the books under the scanner and shove them in my bag, and then a low voice spins me around.

“So you like to read, too, I gather? Only bookish people are impressed by that.”

“Who says I’m impressed?”

“Your surprise—”

“I’m surprised you do anything for fun.”

For a moment, he says nothing, his mouth parted. “It’s good to see you up and at it early,” he says.

By all indications, nothing about him seeing me pleases him, other than his persistent ability to get in my way.

“I have to get going,” he says.

“Oh, I’m so disappointed.” I could kick myself for letting his annoyance bait me.

He taps the lanyard on my chest, ignoring my snide remark. “You’re welcome.”

I offer nothing more than a tight smile.

“Remember, your best today, protégé.” He turns on his heel and leaves, and I stay and read as long as I can.

When I get to a section on “Dragun Legacy,” I skip over a few parts about “Early Wars” but stop at “Draguns: Multifaceted and Lethal.” I pull the book closer, my eyes flying across the words as my brain tries to sift them into meaning. Draguns are a brotherhood that spans Houses and supersedes House loyalties. Their universal sigil is a single, hooked dragon talon. Draguns have the unique ability to master multiple areas of magic. I twist my shirt hem between my fingers, remembering the cracked column at the throat of the Dragun after me. Who was he if not with the brotherhood? I bite my lip and try to remember what Dexler said on my first day. Binding with one form of magic usually dulls the other forms. Draguns are the exception.

I sit up and flip the page, looking for examples. Some comprehensive list of the types of magic Draguns wield. The dark kind, especially. But I find nothing but a pressed mosquito, guts smashed on the page. I slap the tome closed, and I realize the time. I toss my books into my bag and hurry to session.

I arrive to Dexler’s room and crash into my seat. Despite being a few minutes late, things haven’t started. Today’s my second shot at proving I can do this. I can’t afford any screwups.

“Easy there, tiger. We don’t do track tryouts here.” Shelby tosses me a bubble gum.

“Funny.” I tuck it away. “I didn’t see you at the Tavern the other night.”

“Oh, yeah, this guy and I were out doing stuff.”

Rose flings herself into the other chair beside me, apologizing for her tardiness—still no diadem on her head.

“I was actually going to ask you about emerging,” I say to Shelby.