Page 49

“I’ve been around the block a time or two, Harlow Daygon,” Phyllis nodded. “I’ll have something put together for you. If you want. Seeing as we are family now.” Her smile was wobbly and I felt the olive branch extended toward me.

A way to block the bond. I didn’t like how that rib below my heart twanged, but I gave her a thumbs up. “Yes. I want. When?”

“A few days. Saturday should be good. If you take it in the afternoon, you’d have most of that night before the dulling wears off.”

Most of the night, hot damn.

My thoughts were already swirling. I could get Liam, we could go out to maybe the Dark Wood, off school grounds, and then maybe he could help me find my Quirk?

“Thank you, Phyll,” I grinned across at her, which was why I saw her face go white, her eyes wide.

“No.” Her eyes shot to mine. “I told you not to call me that, ever. You need to go now. Please.”

I stood; Fable was already at the door. Still, I hesitated.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to –”

“Just go, Harlow.”

I glanced toward the pile of materials that had covered the photo of her and Nocta. “I’m sorry I upset you, Phyllis. I truly am.”

“Everyone’s always sorry, but it doesn’t change a thing. I’m done talking,” she whispered, and then collapsed into a heap on her chair, her eyes closing.

Fable and I shared a look. I’d pushed her too far.

We made for the door, closing it behind us.

I blew out a slow breath and looked at Fable.

“Damn. She came unglued. Did you know that was going to happen?”

I shook my head and then winced and shrugged. “She reacted strongly before, too. I think ... I think one of her friends, or maybe even her boyfriend who died used to call her Phyll.”

I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Fable ticked her fingers as she spoke. “Okay. So, we learned a little more about Lucy. And we learned that Phyllis has some serious demons. And she’s going to help you out of your sticky situation. And ... well, that’s about it.”

“You sound disappointed. That was a lot for a single interrogation!”

“I just feel like there’s more,” Fable said. “Like there is so much more she could have said.”

We made our way to one of the few spots that was quiet and not quite as public. An alcove in the center of the third floor that allowed you to see both ends of the hall. We ducked into it.

“Maybe she has a journal or a diary.” I frowned.

“Did you see one?” Fable asked.

“No, I’m just taking a leap that after being stuck here for like a hundred years, she might have kept some sort of record.”

“Good point,” Fable said. “And if not, maybe something else. More pictures, letters from loved ones ...”

“If she won’t give us the info, I’ll take it,” I said, reiterating the promise I’d made to myself earlier, only this time, out loud.

Fable wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s one thing to steal a little whiskey, but that’s not personal. A journal is private. Or really anything you find in there. Not to mention entering her room without consent. She won’t be your friend ever again or make you that bond-blocker stuff.”

I hadn’t thought of that. But being bonded to Typhon, as irritating as it was, would end at some point. It had to. “I’ll take the chance.”

“And I’m right in assuming you want me to stand guard?”

I sighed. “Yes, and yes. As much as I hate it, it’s a price I’m willing to pay to get to the truth that’s hidden in the past. This school has so many secrets, and all of them seem to be wrapped around Nocta.”

Fable nodded, her eyes tight. “We are doomed to repeat the past, if we don’t understand it.”

I pointed a finger at her. “Exactly how I would have said it. We need whatever information we can find. The sooner the better. Let’s do it tonight. At dinner, she’ll be out of her room.”

Fable chewed her bottom lip. “It will be noticed. You don’t miss meals.”

She made a good point. “You’ll have to go then and tell them I’m not feeling well, they’ll believe it after the other night. I can handle the rest on my own.”

“I don’t know, Harlow. This makes me seriously nervous.” Fable shook her head.

“I did this for a living.” I winked at her. “I’ll get in, get what I need, and get out. No one will be the wiser. Trust me, I’ve got this.”

But most assuredly, I did not have it.

I waited until I saw Phyllis leave her room an hour later, still a little unsteadier than usual after the drinks. Fable met her just a few feet from her doorway.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Fable said, her voice pitched softly.

“Where’s Harlow?”

“Lying down, too much ... tea.”

“Hmm.”

Once they were gone, I waited for another five minutes before I made my way to Phyllis’s door and put my back to it. Her lock was not as sticky as Typhon’s.

Not by a long shot. I was through the door in under thirty seconds. Flicking the lock open, I let it settle in place so that the door wasn’t fully shut. I’d hopefully hear if someone was coming along.

I let myself feel the bond to Typhon. He was several floors down, irritation flowing from him to me. Something was bothering him, keeping his attention.

Good enough.

The room was dim, all the lights turned way down. I held up my hand, flicking two fingers with a simple rune to bloom a light over my palm.

I went straight to the pile of books and papers, rifling through until I found the picture of Nocta, Phyllis, and the other kids I’d seen die at his hand.

My guts clenched and I made myself breathe in through my nose, out through my mouth.

I picked up the picture and made myself look at just Nocta.

I didn’t have any pictures of my father, but in that dimly lit room, I could see my face in his.

The line of his cheekbones, the arch of one eyebrow, the intensity in his eyes.

Phyllis was a couple of people away from him in the picture, laughing. Happy.

They were all smiling, all except my father. Shaking slightly, I turned the picture over.

November 8, 1965.

Exactly one day before the Neverthorn Nine were killed.

“Fruck.” Chills rippled through me. I slid the picture back.

If I were hunting for something hidden, what better spell to cast than ‘Finders Keepers?

' It was an oldie but goodie. I just had to figure out the proper way to do it instead of relying on my shorthand version.

It took me ten tries to get it right, but then the rune outlines finally formed.

I did a little shimmy of excitement and filled it with energy.

“Journal,” I whispered.

I fully expected the spell to take me to a specific place in the stack. The spell had other ideas, hovering in the air, sparking tiny little bolts like red lightning, leading me to the cupboards where the teacups were. The sparks shot up to the top shelf, well above my head.

I pulled myself up onto the counter and stood, opening the cupboard.

The top shelf was covered in dust. I leaned closer. What looked like two journals were tied together with a thin string. As I reached my hand in, I felt the magic over them.

Protective, and it sparked a burning sensation on my skin. There would be no grab and dash on this, I would have to figure out how to break the spell if I had any hopes of taking it.

I paused. Going up onto my toes, I looked in at the journal cover, the one on top.

Nicodemus Oliphant

Fall Semester, 1965

Fruckfruckfruckfruckfruckfruckfruckfruckfruck

I couldn’t breathe.

It wasn’t her journal. It was my father’s.

The urge to grab it and damn the consequences had my hand moving again. But the patter of footsteps changed my plan. I dropped soundlessly to the floor even while my heart beat a rhythm that I wasn’t sure was even possible without it stopping soon.

I slipped over to the door and paused, as did the footsteps. The bond between me and Typhon spiked just before he spoke, his tone sharp. “We can’t take risks like this again, Tarquinius. Someone could have been killed.”

Tarquinius snorted. “I will decide what risks will and will not be taken. That is not your job, Doyen Moreno. Or would you rather find a new one? How much luck do you think you’d have with that? If anyone knew ...”

Typhon’s rage and fear shot through me as Tarquinius kept on blabbering.

“And while we are discussing risks, you need to get a handle on these House of Phoenix students. Off to the fairy circle, no less. No more leaving the school for them. And you will not take a single one of the House of Phoenix on any of your little field trips again. I know you want to help, but I’m sure that Harlow Daygon used a slew of bastardized magic while she was out there.

I am certain that her cavalier use of unsanctioned runes is what released Lucinda in the first place.

That would make her – and by association – you responsible for how things . .. ended.”

A stab to the heart, for both myself, and for Typhon. But he did not back down.

“Nocta himself is getting closer to breaking through the weave into Everdark every single day,” Typhon replied, his voice low and tight.

“The weavers can’t keep up. It’s not a matter of if anymore.

It’s a matter of when . House Phoenix is our only hope against him.

We’ve been pushing them hard in their classes, and they are learning.

Faster than I would have thought. But they need us to give them the tools owed to them.

We either allow them to flourish or the Dwimmer world will be forever lost to the dark side. Is that what you want?”

Holy. Sheet. Everdark ... the closest thing to Hell that the Dwimmer world had.

I held my breath.

There was the not so quiet grinding of teeth.

“We need to control this. Look at Zeed. Useless now, because his Quirk was triggered out in the wild, without me there to help guide him. Magic without rules and boundaries is nothing but chaos. How do you think we got here in the first place? We cannot have history repeating itself. I will request more volunteers from the Senate. Ones that aren’t as nosy as that damn O’Connor.

Until then, any work with the House of Phoenix students will go through me. That’s an order.”

A single set of heavy footfalls sounded down the hallway. A moment later, I carefully reached for the bond I had to Typhon. Though it was quiet outside Phyllis’s door, I knew he was still standing there. His attention was not on me.

He was royally pissed.

“Fucking prick,” Typhon muttered and then started away, down the hall.

I waited until I felt him drop down a level, before I slipped out of Phyllis’s place and headed to the seventh floor.

As I reached the dorm, I saw a figure waiting for me outside my door. I didn’t have to force my smile. “Opie!”

“Hey, Harlow.” Her blue eyes were shadowed, glittering with unshed tears. “Can I talk to you?”

My own face fell. “What’s wrong?”

“I think ... I think the boy I like has a crush on Phoebe.” And she promptly burst into tears. Patting her back as I pulled her into a hug, I dragged her with me into the room.

What I wouldn’t give for my only problem to be that of an unrequited crush.

I grimaced and tucked her under my arm. “Boys lie and kind of stink, Opie. That is a truth that will never fade.”

She hiccupped a laugh. “Really?”

“Even when they are all grown up. So ... my best piece of advice? Act like you don’t give a sheet about him. He’ll either come around or he won’t. But you don’t need to stress about him.” The words were good advice, and even as I said it, I knew I had to follow through on it.

“Why are you laughing, Harlow?” Opie sniffed up at me.

“Because sometimes I’m stupid about boys too. You’ll still want one when you’re grown up, even if he’s all wrong for you.”

The laughter kept bubbling out of me, a combination of nerves and understanding. Because I knew that whatever it was between Typhon and me ... it was far from over, and the puzzle pieces I kept finding did nothing to drive me away from him.