It’s only a matter of time until she needs more of me.

  She’s going to hurt me if she gets too close.

  Elise saw me as a worthy opponent.

  How could I be capable of holding this burden of hers? What can I even do to help her if I only get distracted and sink back into my thoughts?

  She was floating in a space without an up or down and her eyelids fluttered with no commitment. Nothing could be proven real even with a touch; it was all just another prop to fuel her disorientation. Her head was heavy, but her heart was light. Her knees were like jelly, but her hands were numb.

  1, 2, 3, 4. The bell is going to ring any moment now and I’m stuck here.

  Water spilled over the basin and drenched her shoes, and she scrambled backwards while attempting to turn the tap off at the same time. Her shoulder strained in a sharp pain, and she slipped on the tile floor, hitting her knees against the wall under the sink as her arms were buried in the basin to catch her.

  “Shit…” she hissed to herself, unsure whether to focus on the injury in her shoulder, knees, or dignity. If only she had her magic to ease the pain all over her body and deep in her mind, affinity shuttered away by the academy’s restrictions.

  The water had time to drain from the sink and floor, and this time she only let a small stream of water out. Anything to take away the bright red cheeks of heat and embarrassment and anything to bring her back to this reality.

  She shut her eyes and bent over the sink, basking in the coolness of the water, and believed for a moment that this chaos would pass. School was operating as usual, and it was her own doing that she kept mentally lashing out.

  When she turned off the tap, opened her eyes, and stood up, Elise was standing behind her in the mirror.

  Before Veaer could even react or verbally acknowledge her presence, Elise stepped closer, staring at their reflections, and placed a hand on Veaer’s shoulder, her fingers lightly playing with silver strands of hair.

  “Your fight was quite impressive today, for someone who hasn’t fenced before,” Elise began, with no introduction, no reason as to why she wasn’t heading to class. “Tell me, what was your strategy?”

  Veaer gulped and pushed down her flurry of unhelpful thoughts. She could only concentrate on the way Elise’s soft fingers ran through her hair and scratched her neck. The way she could really see Elise’s makeup with little eyeliner butterflies on her cheeks, blush surrounding them, and freckles made more prominent with a brown tone.

  Gods above, is this another ghost? Am I losing my mind?

  Her eyes fluttered shut again and she wondered, perhaps, if she needed more sleep.

  Then a distinct snipping noise snapped her to a more diligent state, and she flinched this time, only to meet Elise’s confused expression in the reflection and nothing other than their breaths and beating hearts. Maybe it was a sign from Tychon to get it together.

  Veaer played with the response on her lips before releasing it. “I get to know things as much as I can and use that information to my advantage. By feeling the foil, I could work out how I would have to balance it, and then it was a matter of practical application. As my opponent, I could read your body language and movements, even as we moved through bouts. I knew the space we were in and how I needed to use it. I also implemented personality.” She cut herself short there.

  The princess paused her hand in the middle of Veaer’s hair and she thought for a moment that Elise could easily grab it in her fist and throw her against the wall or sink because she knew what Veaer knew. But then she resumed, quietly humming, and then replying, “Interesting. Interesting mind.”

  They stayed like that for a few minutes, even after the bell rang. One student was missing, what was another two? And Veaer saw the mirror as a canvas and wondered what it would be like to paint Elise. Would that painting be tainted by sharp edges and red when Elise was so blue and brown and green, soft and plump and not at all dangerous at first glance?

  “I would like to commission you,” Elise said and broke the silence, now bringing confusion to Veaer’s face.

  A commission? “What sort?”

  “I’ve seen your work… the kind that involves you breaking into the fourth and fifth floor of Miriam Manor despite the barriers and lack of permission. The kind that sees the way your mind is always working. The kind that makes you flexible and quick.” Elise let go of Veaer’s hair and stepped away, now pacing the changing room, awaiting a response.

  A part of her was screaming and shaking and waving her hands about in excitement and thrill. A job for Elise, and one she was personally approached for. One where Elise had been watching her and remembering. She had half a mind to accept on the spot, but she knew she had to practise her rationality.

  “And what are the details of this commission?” Veaer asked smoothly, only revealing her bubbling feelings in the way she tapped her fingertips along her thighs while watching Elise in the mirror.

  “I will pay you—” She wouldn’t need money to sell this proposition, but it was always a nice inclusion. “—to break into Tychon’s room and gather a few items for me, before students show up, after the room is sealed off by authorities.”

  Veaer stilled, everything stilled. And she became very aware of Tychon’s presence around them, floating in the mirror and staring directly into her soul.

  “Don’t do it, Veaer,” the ghost says.

  New words. He didn’t say this yesterday. He’s speaking to me, and he means it.

  “It’s not your place to be there.”

  “What do you need in Tychon’s room?”

  An innocent question, a detail of the commission. And quite possibly an effort to confirm that Elise shared the same goal as her—find out what Tychon was doing in the cathedral, why and for who.

  “A journal, maybe. Any notes. I want hints, to figure out where he went.” Elise inched closer to the exit and Veaer was frightened for a moment that the princess was going to slip away, but then she paused. “I’m worried about my best friend.”

  There was something chilling in that sentence that caused her fingers to freeze. She took a deep breath in and looked away from the mirror to watch Elise’s back with her own eyes.

  A journal and notes very well could reveal what Tychon was doing. Clearly Elise had found something yesterday under his desk as well, something that told her that he was in the cathedral. There had to be more.

  “Why the specific time frame?” She needed to get as much out of this briefing as she could before the answers were locked away.

  “You like asking questions,” Elise noted, and turned her head only for a moment to reveal an arched eyebrow before she went back to being entirely too interested in the walls. “Complete the task before students show up because I don’t need everyone seeing what I’m doing. My brother already said not to go looking for him. After authorities lock the room up… I can also say that students will be disobeying Izot and hanging out around his room with the same idea.”

  “And what’s to say they won’t find his belongings first?”

  A few moments of silence passed and Veaer wrung her hands together. Elise showed no move towards answering, with her shoulders lifting slightly as the only sign she was still breathing.

  Finally, Elise took a deep breath and spun around with a smile. Veaer didn’t spend time on the details of that expression, for it instilled fear in her and that’s all she had to know.

  “I know my Tychon is very good at hiding things.”

  CHAPTER 10

  BEING IN PLACES YOU SHOULDN’T BE

  Izot returned the next morning to notify the class that Tychon was officially declared missing.

  Veaer distracted herself with folio requirements and upcoming essays, scouring her syllabus that she’d already memorised. In the next class, her professor droned on about alternate art forms and how universities would expect a unique project to really shine for the admission officers. It was something more productive to focus on than ghosts and feathers.

  She sat back in her chair after a lengthy reminder about compositing spreads and avoiding cliches, but her shoulders did anything but relax as her gaze fluttered over to Elise who sat a few seats away from her. And it wasn’t only the commission that shook her nerves and made her count each second until class was over, but that Elise went out of her way to move her classes within a day so she would be in the same Art 5 class as her. To be there when Veaer went on break, to be here because Veaer didn’t give her an answer yesterday.

  Her hand hovered over a paintbrush, and she stared at the threads of her canvas. It was blank except for staining she had done last lesson. Raw umber formed a neutral and universal stain, in this case helping as she hadn’t taken the time to decide what she would paint next. All that appeared in her mind were butterflies. The ones on Elise’s wall, the ones outside the window Elise stared at. And red admiral butterflies.

  She wasn’t proud to have not given an answer to Elise already. It may have been her only path towards getting to know Elise more. Now she only imagined Elise would be surrounded by concerned students because Tychon really was missing now, and slowly their interactions and any hold she had on Elise would fade.

  Even yet, unyielding pride stuck to her chest, that she had proven herself to Elise enough for her to have gone to her for help. Elise knew that someone with magical caemi abilities who already showed they could get from the ground floor to the top was a much better contender than anyone else to break and enter a restricted room.

  Half of the details were in place now. After authorities, before students. Fifth period, the one straight after lunch, would be optimal to complete the task. She couldn’t do it now as others would notice her leaving, and not during lunch as some students went back to the dorms to spend time. Just before they had to go back to class, she would be able to linger around the manor and then make her way up as students left. She would be done halfway through fifth period and still make it to class without being seen in Tychon’s room.

  She knew what side of the building Tychon’s room was, and she already plotted an upwards climb. If the window was locked, she would bring a putty knife to wedge through and break the lock.

  The other half of the requirement was her taking the job. The fact that she already had a plan spoke plainly and clearly, but admittance wasn’t easy, not when it could’ve been out of intimidation with each glance Elise sent her.

  Ever since Veaer enrolled at Adraredon, she committed herself to making choices rooted in her personal reasoning and motivation. She didn’t need others to guide her and when she was left at the gates, she was ready to spend the next three years on her own.

  She chose her own stream, she chose what she spent time and energy on, and she made it her resolution to find out as much as she could about the things she loved because then she would have the knowledge and from knowledge came power.

  Haiwrin and Adair became exceptions in her promise. They had weaved her in a web with their easy conversations and charming empathy. They always had a way to include Veaer in projects and hangouts, and with time and familiarity came friendship.

  Though she kept to some habits and that included keeping secrets. And that meant those two would never know what was going on between Elise and herself.

  And if she continued down this path, it would be because she wanted to, not because she was afraid of Elise.

  Veaer sought a life of satisfaction. So when she stood before the wall with Tychon’s window on it, picturing herself climbing the vines, bricks and balconies, and grabbing that journal to hand to Elise, she knew that saying no was not an option anymore.

  I want to do this. I want to do this.

  She closed and opened her fists as she went over the plan again and again.

  There is too much to gain here.

  “And so much to lose,” Tychon says.

  She couldn’t bring herself to ponder on the risks and instead distracted herself by leaning against a tree as a couple of detectives walked past her. While she kept most of their words away, she did overhear that many students were trying to get to Tychon’s room as well, through the door, like normal people.

  She knew that Tychon was popular among students for being a diviner, who did tarot readings for others. Even the faculty indulged in the cards and were flexible during class. The cards were always right; a chant that flooded the school.

  Elise appeared around the corner, floating like a shadow, and approached Veaer with a bag in one hand.

  “Are you ready?” Elise asked, handing the worn bag to Veaer. “To hold the items. I doubt you can climb down easily while holding whatever you find.”

  Her words were full of assumption. Correct assumption, but nonetheless without inquiring with Veaer first. Perhaps Elise already saw it on her face during Art 5, or when she turned the corner to see Veaer standing in position, just as requested yesterday. Maybe her actions spoke for themselves.

  “I’m ready.” She looped the straps around her arms and waited for the class bell to ring.

  Her hands were caked in dust as she got to her feet on a third-floor balcony. She clapped them together and surveyed the remaining journey, then looked back down to make sure Elise was still there. The princess stood against the tree, in the shade and keeping quiet. Her eyes remained on Veaer but her expression didn’t reveal any thoughts. Somehow this felt more like a show than a necessary climb to Tychon’s room.

  She stood upon the balcony railing and jumped to grab the next ledge she could get her hands on. Then she shuffled across and let her left hand go, temporarily holding her entire body weight by her right hand. This time she wore a short sleeve shirt as to not threaten any rips that would give her a hard time. As much as she loved climbing, she would be happier once her feet were on the carpet in Tychon’s room.

  Once she got to Tychon’s window, she steadied her feet on a narrow edge and tried opening it. It was locked. She slid the putty knife out of skirt pocket. It took a few attempts to stick the knife under the window frame while balancing on the side of the building, but eventually it stuck without her help and so with one hand holding onto the sill, she leaned back and then forced her other hand to push the putty knife further in and snap the lock off. It flew across the room and onto the carpet, and she stilled for a moment, ready to duck if anyone on the other side of the door caught the sound.

  No one burst through which gave her permission to lift the window and dive into the room, her arm hitting the floor as she avoided the curios and boxes stacked under the window. With a hiss, she rubbed her shoulder and sat up, eyeing over the room. Even with the window open, everything looked darkened, like the room knew Tychon wasn’t going to return.

  She stood up, knowing she had three goals:

  1. For her sake, get to know Tychon as much as she could, based on his dorm room

  2. For Elise’s sake, find his journal and anything that would give her answers to “where Tychon is”

  3. Do both as soon as possible since the longer she stayed, the higher the risk for someone to walk in on her

  A bookshelf to the right of the window was stuffed with books and other decorations like prayer beads, crystals, and candles. A few deity and saint statuettes were placed on the shelves, and she noticed others around the room as well. A group of small ceramic butterflies sat on the bedside table, and she pocketed one with another gaze over the room. If there was any correlation between the cathedral and Tychon, it was that he heavily dipped into religion and spirituality.

  She started with the bookshelf for potential ritual books that could be grouped with personal journals too.

  She ran her finger across the spines as she read them. Many were old textbooks for different majors in the academy, some were simply fiction novels, and then she came across a set more akin to Tychon’s interests. Meditation, tarot cards, energy reading, angels.

  Angels?

  She hardly knew much about them, but something rang familiar. Perhaps it was the white feathers from that day or some of the winged statues around the room. She slid the book from the shelf and weighed it in her hands. She could only carry a few things in the backpack, so she’d have to keep focused. For now, she placed it on the desk and scoured the rest of the shelf.

  Crouching lower, she found a worn leather journal and had hope that this was it, but when she opened it, the pages were full of small sketches of tarot cards, the names of other students at the top, and scribbles of analysis and interpretations. This must have been his tarot journal rather than a personal one. She placed it on top of the book of angels.

  On the walls were different tapestries, one a large version of The Magician tarot card, one that seemed to be a full map of the school, and another was a palmistry diagram. To the left of the window was Tychon’s bed, made and pristine, and above the headboard was a landscape painting of The Sun and The Moon tarot cards, except the figures on both emerged from their card frames and held each other’s hand. She stepped closer and ran her hand along the brushstrokes lightly and then lifted the canvas to see E.E inked on the back.

  She dipped to the floor on all fours to look under the bed. There were only so many places his journal could be, and Elise seemed sure that he hid it in his room. She didn’t find the journal under there but an index card. There was some writing on it, so she reached out and grabbed it, but didn’t have time to read when she heard something fall in the closet. Her limbs locked in place which wasn’t ideal for the position she was in. No one else was meant to be in here—she wasn’t meant to be in here.

  A person, a rat, a detective, a ghost? Tychon’s ghost? Telling me to leave, telling me this is a bad idea.

  The closets in the manor were big enough for someone to squeeze in if they wanted to, but it wouldn’t be very comfortable to stay there for long. If it were just the ghost then everything was fine, but ghosts couldn’t really knock things over, could they?