Give the Dark My Love(49)

“Carved into the flesh?”

“Dead flesh. You start with the death of a loved one. And then a knife.” He picked up a scalpel from the table. “The runes mark the body for sacrifice.”

“But if the person is already dead, that doesn’t seem like much of a sacrifice.”

“You’re treating the desecration of a corpse rather lightly, Nedra,” Master Ostrum said, but he didn’t sound as if he were chastising me, merely commenting. “Could you so easily carve into the flesh of someone you loved?”

I thought of Ernesta. I caught my reflection in the glass covering Master Ostrum’s potions cabinet, and I imagined that it was her, not me, looking back. I imagined her eyes empty, the scalpel slicing into her skin, a trickle of blood between her eyes.

I looked away. “No,” I said slowly. “No, I don’t think I could do that.”





TWENTY-NINE


    Nedra



By the time I left Master Ostrum’s office, the sun had long since set. There was no moon on the horizon, just the glow of the quarantine hospital’s clock.

I made my way slowly back to the dorm, thinking of what Master Ostrum had revealed to me. I didn’t notice the boy sitting on the stairs until I almost stepped on him.

“What are you doing, leaving a professor’s office so late at night?” Tomus sneered. I could smell the ale on him from several steps away, but his words were not slurred, and his eyes glittered in the darkness.

“Research,” I said without pausing. I kept my head down, one foot in front of the other.

Tomus grabbed my arm, jerking me around. “Research,” he repeated, sneering.

I tried to pull away. His grip was viselike, his fingers digging into my forearm, purposefully twisting my flesh.

“What are you going to do?” I said in a low voice.

“Anything I want,” he snarled.

He thought he could scare me, but I had seen Death today. Nothing could scare me. He thought his leer would make me cower. I could see it in his eyes. He believed in himself, in his ability to intimidate others. It was almost laughable, the idea that he had any power at all.

“Hey!” Grey came from the other side of the building. “What’s going on?” His voice was unusually aggressive.

Tomus threw his hands up. “Nothing, nothing,” he said in a mocking tone. “Your girlfriend’s out late, that’s all.”

“I can stay out as late as I want,” I snapped, moving down the steps and away from them both.

“Have you thought about our last conversation?” Tomus asked Grey, holding him back from joining me.

Grey jerked away, jogging to catch up with me. “Mind if I walk you to your dormitory?” he asked, somewhat breathlessly.

I shook my head. My fingers ran along the long, narrow scar across my palm.

Grey pulled my hand away and wove his fingers through mine. “He’s just jealous,” he said.

“He’s not.” Our steps didn’t slow; we both wanted to leave the quad. Tomus wasn’t following us, but he was still there, watching. I knew it without turning. “He isn’t jealous of you, and you have the top alchemical marks.”

“He is,” Grey said. “He just thinks he can use me later, so he hides his anger from me.”

“What did he mean?” I asked as we reached the door to the dormitory. “About your last conversation?”

Grey’s face flashed with exasperation. “There’s a group of students who think now is the perfect time to start protesting the government.” His fingers ran up and down a little arrow that had been carved into the doorframe.

“The governor?” I asked.

“And the Emperor,” Grey said. He stepped ahead of me, opening the door to the girls’ dormitory. “Don’t worry about it. They can’t really do anything but shout.”

Rather than step through the door, I reached for him. “Come up with me?” I asked. “We could study.”

I could see the hesitation in his eyes, but he nodded and followed me to my room. Once inside, Grey looked around my bare room. It was a little homier since I moved in, but not by much. He casually opened the scroll of parchment on my desk, revealing the map my father had given me.

“Why don’t you have this framed?” he asked. “It would look nice on the wall.”

I raised my eyebrows at him. Did he think I put up with paper-thin curtains over my window and couch cushions as pillows for my bed because I was so focused on work? I hadn’t framed Papa’s map because I couldn’t frame it. It cost too much.

“I understand,” he said, letting go. The large paper curled slowly, like a cat preparing for a nap.

“What do you understand?” I asked.

“This isn’t permanent for you.” Grey turned in a slow circle, taking my room in. “None of Yūgen is.”

I picked up a book from the bed, fiddling with it. In a way, he was right. I hadn’t come to this school expecting it to be my home. School was merely a doorway for me to pass through in order to enter the rest of my life, not a place to make attachments or friends.

But when I looked at Grey, at the hope that somehow still flared within him, the hope for us—none of my plans mattered.