She had to be sure and so she inched towards the door, placing the index card on top of the tarot journal, and continuing forward slow and steady.

  The door flew open and someone barrelled towards her, pinning her to the ground and covering her mouth. Veaer stared, wide-eyed, at the student wearing a white full-face mask dressed in painted eyes, so many eyes, on top of her. She had little way to identify this person as a hat covered their hair, and they wore a school uniform just as she did. The only further difference was that this student wore pants rather than a skirt like her.

  The mask is such a smart idea…

  Her own identity was on full display with her bright silver hair and brownish-red eyes.

  Then they spoke, quietly enough that she couldn’t tell much about their voice over the thunder of her own heartbeat, “What in Syriphia are you doing here, Veaer?”

  You know my name.

  Voices from the other side of the door came into focus, talking about if anyone was meant to be in the room or if those guarding had seen anyone come in.

  A chill took over Veaer’s arms and her breathing became staggered. Whether it was because she was about to be caught or because an entire student was sitting on her didn’t matter. Her mouth dried.

  1, 2, 3, 4. Tap, tap, tap, tap.

  The masked person audibly swallowed and then mumbled, “You need to get out of here. The closet is mine.”

  Veaer glanced past the person and into the dim wardrobe; Tychon’s uniforms and clothing were hung up neatly, boxes and old bed sheets were stacked on the top shelf. A few things were knocked over, the culprit of the noise from earlier likely some empty shoe boxes and—

  A stack of vintage books was toppled to the side but in a strange arrangement. As if all of them were stuck together by their front and back covers, not separating even after being kicked over.

  Veaer pushed the student off and gunned it for the weird books. The voices outside increased in number, and the student quickly recovered and grabbed her ankle.

  “I said the closet is mine!” the person hissed and Veaer kicked her leg up to loosen their grip. She just needed the journal and then she could leave.

  She wrapped her hands around the stuck pile of books and shook it, then realising something was knocking around a hollow interior. She ran her hand across every edge to find an opening and the cover at the bottom of the stack snapped open, like a magnet had come loose, and she shoved her hand inside.

  She didn’t have any time to check what she had taken out and ran for the other two books on the desk. She opened the bag only to find it full of random scrunched up papers and cursed herself for not emptying it first. The bag was turned upside down, then upright, and then stuffed with the three books and index card.

  The chime of a keychain—someone was coming inside.

  The masked student had disappeared into the closet.

  Veaer looped the straps around her arms.

  A key was pushed into the lock.

  She ran for the window, climbed over the sill, held on tight, and then dropped.

  CHAPTER 11

  FRIENDSHIP AND SOMETHING MORE

  Year 1, Semester 2, Week 4

  Haiwrin Boudreau and Adair Boudreau were the kindest people in the entire world. Veaer declared it so after a week of knowing them.

  They offered her snacks when they took too much from the cafeteria, which she associated with great happiness. They brought water to her room in the evenings while she was working away at new projects that were scattered across her carpet. They sat on either side of her during homeroom and wouldn't let her move after her first, and final, attempt at changing seats.

  She liked the twins, and they were caemi people just like her. Solidarity in this academic world where they couldn’t really tell caemi apart from senti unless they actually told each other.

  One day when they arranged to meet her after classes at Haiwrin’s favourite theatre on campus, she gave them flowers. She made a loud and dramatic show of friendship, using the stage that enabled her gesture.

  Though it didn’t take long for Haiwrin to start having rehearsals when they would usually meet, so Veaer and Adair spent their time alone, learning about art and literature for their respective majors and, one day, deciding that the swirling heat in their chests and poorly-hidden, frequent glances towards each other would lead to something a bit more intimate.

  CHAPTER 12

  THE ADRAREDON LIBRARY

  Year 3, Semester 1, Week 9

  By the next evening, Elise still hadn’t told her what was next.

  Veaer sat on her bed as she wrapped gauze around her knee, having scraped it on her way down the side of the building the previous afternoon. It bothered her to have to change it every few hours.

  And when she had managed to make her way down to the bottom with the goods in tow, Elise was nowhere to be seen.

  Did I do something wrong?

  Her gaze hovered to the worn sack on her desk, heavy with the index card and three books. She didn’t want to check the hidden book she grabbed without Elise.

  But if Elise was going to ignore all her attempts to talk throughout the day, then perhaps she deserved this much for what she had achieved.

  Once the gauze was fastened, she tested her leg off the side of the bed and then made her way to her desk. When she opened the bag for the first time since yesterday, she noted two leather bound journals and a hardcover. That was promising.

  She stared at the books for a while. Does Elise already know I failed? Surely a book hidden like that would be something personal.

  The alarm clock by her bed ticked by. It had been around 60 hours since Tychon originally went missing. Soon, this would turn into an abduction or murder case. The true case.

  Elise’s long silky hair flies with each thrust of the knife and her smile is just as sharp.

  Conviction in her eyes, vengeance in her bones.

  I can only watch in awe, in disgust, in fear, in admiration.

  How can a young girl be so brave? And so cruel?

  What is going on? I should leave.

  But a laugh rings in my ears from somewhere distant, and she just keeps going as if it doesn’t bother her.

  If it takes a pain this horrible to be wrapped in her arms like that, maybe I will take it.

  Veaer snapped back to reality when a knock sounded at her door. A sheet of paper slipped under her door and that was enough to make her get up and pick it up.

  Library. 20 minutes. Key is under the mat.

  Short and succinct, right to the point. The thought of Elise drove a bolt of heat to her cheeks yet an image of the masked intruder took hold of her. Whether this instruction was delivered by Elise, or the mysterious student had found her again, she hoped to the gods that it was Elise.

  The library at Adraredon Academy was not just a room with half-filled metal shelves and some dingy carpet flooring. It was entirely unlike the one Veaer had at her public schools before getting into Adraredon.

  For when she retrieved the small key from under the welcome mat, and used it to unlock the library, those large wooden double doors opened to an arrangement of dark tables with old glass desk lamps surrounding the centre of the complex which housed a raised librarian’s counter. Bookshelves took up almost every inch of wall except for the door and a staircase which led to two more floors upwards, and there was enough space in the middle to look straight up to the dome glass roof. The glass wasn’t so clear to allow blistering sunlight through during the day though at nighttime, it was transparent enough to see the stars.

  Considering how vast the library was and how she was supposed to be in bed, a creeping feeling settled in Veaer’s system. She played with the hem of her jacket and thought herself fortunate to have put on her running shoes over her school loafers in case she had to make a break for it—she thought the same for wearing track pants over her skirt.

  She had only seen the library during the day when there were people to occupy it. Not when anything could jump out of the darkness at any moment and take her away. There was nothing to even signify that Elise was even here yet. Or was someone else expecting her?

  “You came.”

  Veaer whipped around as she clutched the leather journal tighter. A desk lamp switched on and she noticed Elise sitting at one of the tables by the door, bending over a small specimen frame and using tweezers to gently adjust a butterfly’s wings. She was shadows and starlight at once, the warm bulb emitting enough light to recognise the young woman, but the library continued to be shrouded in darkness. Her dark hair was done up in a bun this time and she still wore her uniform but with an Adraredon Academy branded hoodie on top. Even with just this small detail, Veaer held her breath. She hadn’t seen Elise casually before, hadn’t considered she ever would. But here it was just the two of them and maybe she would be greedy enough to want more.

  Veaer ran her tongue between her lips. “You asked me to.” It came out more as a question than an answer. Then Veaer continued, in an effort to recover her uncertainty, “At least have the light on before I come in, next time.” But either way your beauty shines. I would paint you onto a dark canvas, and the canvas would be grateful for the light.

  “Imagine if someone else found the key.” She held her hand out and lowered her eyes to the book. Her eyelids were still covered in eye shadow.

  Veaer pursed her lips and stepped forward. She wanted to draw more words out of Elise, not just simple answers. More than just their short conversations. Or maybe she only spoke more to closer, familiar people—such as Tychon.

  Veaer couldn’t feel his presence right now.

  She wanted to be someone Elise found comfort in sharing with, though she had to be patient and play her cards right. The first move would be handing over the book. She still wanted to know what was inside, and to find out with Elise.

  Elise placed it carefully on the table, her hand running up and down the spine, her eyes fixed on the gold writing on the front cover that Veaer didn’t notice previously. “Alright, thank you. Just leave the key here on your way out.”

  No.

  That can’t be it.

  In a flash of irritation, Veaer was glad to have left the other clues in her room, not knowing what was to come from this session, desiring some semblance of control. She was right for not setting expectations, because Elise truly treated this job as just that. If Elise wanted the wares of Veaer’s experience and knowledge, she would need to let her in first. They both wanted the same thing, right?

  “No.” Veaer avoided eye contact with Elise until she walked around the table, pulled out a chair and then took a seat. Then her gaze was all over Elise’s confused expression. “We’re not done yet.”

  Elise’s lips twitched, like she was about to burst out laughing. She tilted her head. “Well, yes. I asked you to do something for me, and you have done it. Thank you.”

  “I’m not here just for a thank you.” Veaer placed her hand firmly on top of the book and kept her gaze on Elise. She noted how the rays in her eyes disappeared when they weren’t in the light.

  “Okay, what are you here for then?” Elise asked and Veaer’s cheeks flushed. “Oh, right, the money. I can have it wired to your school account so you can purchase what you like on your student card. Or I can hand it to you in cash?”

  “No, no, not the money either!” Veaer said all too loud in the empty library. She grumbled and shrunk in her chair. She couldn’t bring herself to admit the words now that she was here.

  That I want to let someone in.

  Or I want them to let me in.

  I want to solve this, and it should be with you.

  But you’re interesting and clever and creative. And I am not very much at all.

  “Don’t you want someone else to help you with this?” Veaer decided on, but instantly ran through the implications that she was just like so many other students trying to stick their head into this as well. She wasn’t just one of the others.

  “There is plenty of help already.” The sarcasm wasn’t lost on Veaer. Elise didn’t open the journal.

  “I mean real help. Someone who absorbs information and thrives in it. Someone who won’t stop at anything to get answers. Someone who’s going to do more than sit around Tychon’s room and wait.” As she spoke, her words became smoother and more confident. Her gaze flickered between the journal and Elise. Her hand shifted to the edge of the princess’ hand. “Someone as curious as you.”

  Something in Elise’s expression fell away and her mouth moved a few times like words were floating through but never materialising. She closed her eyes and looked away and Veaer thought she might have done something wrong, but the next moment her right hand was being taken into Elise’s.

  “Your right hand is your dominant hand?” Elise asked, giving her a serious stare.

  Veaer blinked and forgot herself in Elise’s eyes. Then, when the silence became too much, she answered, “Yes, it is.”

  Elise turned Veaer’s hand, drew lines across her palm and measured Veaer’s fingers against her own. The books were like a warm cocoon and the singular lit lamp meant she couldn’t look anywhere else but Elise. Not at the stars above, or the pure knowledge that surrounded them, or the darkness that threatened to take them away.

  She was afraid that if she did look away, and for too long, that a star would fall from the sky and crash through the glass ceiling, spraying them with shards and they would lose this moment and their future forever.

  And then, with a stroke of Elise’s finger along the middle of Veaer’s palm, a beautiful smile bloomed on the princess’ face.

  “You’re smart. A drawback or an advantage as you find yourself using your mind to get your way with things and people. Your self-motivation is infectious—it can make you a good leader. You consider how others acknowledge you important but at the same time, you keep your feelings so close to you that, in a moment’s notice… you’re quick-tempered or fast to depress.” Elise inhaled and Veaer held still. “You’re a planner. You love details. There’s something about the way you act… like you would rather ask forgiveness after doing something than permission beforehand. It’s the way you counteract planning forever. Being robust is important to you, to have things you’re exceptional at, to have many solutions, to observe and indulge. Finally, you say with utmost confidence that you owe everything to yourself. I think you’re right.” She glanced up, a twinkle in those deep brown eyes. “You are very curious.”

  Elise removed her hands and the warmth left with them. Veaer shivered and let out a breath slowly and sharply. She soaked in the feeling of emptiness that came before she inhaled.

  Elise, Elise.

  Patrons above, I want to grab your shoulders and pull you tightly into me. I want to grasp your hair in my hands and see your eyes widen as I bring myself closer. I want to run my hands down your arms and hips and hold you there. I want to press your back against your chair right now and—and…

  She exhaled.

  “You are magnificent,” Veaer whispered, and her heart beat louder than anything as she crossed her ankles under the table. “That was beautiful.” You are beautiful. “How did… Is that really just from my palm?”

  “You recently turned eighteen, in April, which means that your lines have developed well. Though, lines do change and typically every six months you will notice.” Elise was back to looking at the leather-bound book but her face glowed more than Veaer had ever seen. “I read the shape of your hand, the shape of your fingers, how your index and ring finger measure, if your middle finger curves slightly a certain way, any ringed lines under your fingers, your life line, your head line, your line of fortune, if they intersect, affection lines, travel lines…” She used her right hand as a demonstration and traced and pointed at each aspect she listed until she fell silent and dropped her hands, immediately going to open the notebook.

  Veaer blinked at the abrupt change. “Why did you stop?” You speak like music. “I would love to learn more some time. Maybe I can read your palm.”

  Elise softly chuckled, suppressing it with the lift of her hand against her lips. “Maybe, someday. But for now, the rest of the world thinks we’re sleeping the night away, so why don’t we make the most of our time?”

  And she turned to the first page.

  PART II

  “I killed a plant once because I gave

  it too much water. Lord, I worry

  that love is violence.”

  ― José Olivarez, Citizen Illegal

  CHAPTER 13

  DIVING FROM A PEAK HIGH ABOVE

  “Ah… he loved to encode his belongings,” Elise mumbled, picking apart the letters with her eyes. Loved. A slip of tense. “Mirrors, mirrors.” She reached under the table and pulled out a few sheets of paper from a compartment alongside two pens.

  “So why are we in the library so late?” Veaer asked as Elise drew W and then a line through it to make two Vs, then B and sliced it horizontally, though it didn’t exactly create anything except two short Ds. It was when she did H and gave the paper a confused look that she crossed them out and rewrote the letters with no strikes. “Shouldn’t there be some sort of key for this?” Veaer waved her hand vaguely at the page, as if the fog of confusion would part and the message would make itself clear.

  “This is how I take back time. There is so much to do during the day, so many people to be around. I wonder if I sit here in the dark, I’ll have some sort of epiphany. If not, then I have a few hours to be with me, by myself.” Oh, but now I’m here. We’re by ourselves together.