Page 141 of Malcroix Bones Academy

“Alcohol, please,” I said, still watching the dancers. “Nothing too strong, though.”

He smiled and nodded, then walked away on his furred boots, the heavy broadsword flapping against his back.

I smoothed down the black skirt a second time, and tried not to feel self-conscious about my belly showing. I remindedmyself that the costume was practically Victorian compared to Miranda’s, who’d decided to go as a succubus in nude-colored, mostly see-through netting and blood-streaked hair.

Even Jolie dressed in more revealing clothing than me, wearing what amounted to a belly-dancer costume for some fictional character in a book she loved. Most of her upper body had been completely bare, with a scant bikini top made of charmed jewels that threw off colored lights, over a very low-slung, see-through skirt with more light effects, and ribboned sandals.

She’d looked positively stunning, of course, but that was hardly the point.

Why didIfeel so visible?

I’d never been this weird about dressing up. I even liked going with fairly revealing choices at times, too, if the occasion warranted. Maybe everything going on lately had me more on edge than I realized.

Maybe the cat headdress was too much.

I scanned faces and bodies, and told myself I wasn’t looking for anyone in particular. I definitely wasn’t looking for a flash of white-blond hair, or any other part of that particularly frustrating face or body. Honestly, I kind of hoped he wouldn’t come at all. Gods,wouldhe come to something like this? He didn’t strike me as much of a joiner, but maybe?

“I hope this is okay.” Graham’s deep voice made me jump. I turned and he smiled at me sheepishly, holding out a smoking, silver goblet. “They didn’t have mead, or even wine. They assured me this wasn’tterriblystrong, though.”

I nodded, and took the goblet gratefully.

Although I suspected it would be a bad idea to get completely hammered, I couldn’t help hoping the drink might be alittlestrong. After weeks of studying and poring over my mother’s journal, and now poring over the secret passages she’d leftinside, I could use a night where I wasn’t thinking too deeply about much of anything.

“Do you recognize the costumes?” Graham asked.

I glanced out at the floor, and shook my head. “Only a few,” I confessed. “I recognize some of the gods. Vampires, of course. Faeries. I’ve seen a few dragons.”

He chuckled. “No one expects you to pick it all up overnight, Leda,” he said. “It’s pretty shocking how much you’ve learnt already, given how new you are here. Even with your crazy, off-the-charts test scores.” He fingered one of my braids off my cheek. “It’s pretty intimidating to us mere mortals…”

I tried not to hear the condescension in his voice.

Then I told myself I was imagining it.

Honestly, whatwaswrong with me tonight?

It struck me that maybe I’d really done this for the absolute worst of reasons. The Skyhunt tournament in the fancy box, and now the costume party. I didn’t really view Graham romantically, as much as I could acknowledge he was objectively attractive. I didn’t even feel a strong spark with him in a friendship way, which is why I’d originally refused his clumsy passes during our Flying course.

Had I really only asked him out in a feeble attempt to salvage my pride with that blond arsehole? If so, that was more pathetic than if I hadn’t come at all.

“Unicorn hair for your thoughts,” Graham murmured. Reaching cautiously towards me, he touched my cheek a second time. “You alright, Shadow?”

Gah, I was already here. I should at leasttryto have fun.

And maybe I wasn’t being fair to Graham. I hardly knew him, after all. And he reallywasa bona fide hot guy. He clearly had a better-than-average body, which he’d obviously wanted me to know by not wearing a shirt under the fur cloak. I’d seen otherwitches checking him out since we got here, and on the walk over from Grathrock.

I lifted my drink, and drained the rest of the frothy, fruity concoction in one go.

Glancing up at Strangemore’s slightly wider eyes, I plunked the empty goblet down on a nearby table.

“Do you think you could teach me how people dance here?” I asked.

He stared a second longer, then lifted his own goblet and shotgunned the last of his drink, too. He set the empty silver vessel on the table next to mine.

“Absolutely, ma’am.” He smiled, and offered his arm. “C’mon.”

The dance floorhad filled up by the time I felt I might be getting the hang of it. My face and neck were sweating slightly under the headdress and dense braids, and my arms glistened under the faery lights, but everyone else was sweating, too, and no one cared.

Graham turned out to be a better dance teacher than he had been flight instructor. He was patient, funny, and surprisingly light on his feet, even in the furred boots. He didn’t seem to mind particularly, the one time I’d trod all over him, either.