“Oh. Apologies, Scholar Sykes—what was the question again?”
“Of all the known means to amplify arcana, only one has proven stable enough to remain legal in Atlas to this day, though it is rarely used. Can you tell us what it is?”
It took me a few seconds longer than usual to wrack my brain, but then I answered. “The Ahnki. The ancient Aetheric runes, created by the gods—typically reserved for arcane combat in times of war, or for large-scale spellwork such as city wards.”
“Very good, Miss Asher,” Scholar Sykes replied with a curt nod. “Now, the Ahnki…”
I couldn’t help myself. My mind drifted right back to Kieran, his mouth, and thatperfect fucking cockuntil our lecturer found himself interrupted by a measured rap at the door.
The room broke into quiet murmurs as the scholar sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. I assumed it was Teagan, his perpetually-late teaching assistant—but what I saw peering over the man’s shoulders was most decidedlynotthe scholar in training.
Kraiggson? What the Hel is he doing here?
I recognized the guardsman immediately, but a moment of silence fell over the classroom as everyone else observed the highly irregular disruption to our lecture.
The two men at the door had a brief exchange, voices far too low for me to eavesdrop—and then Grant handed Scholar Sykes a small, cream-colored envelope sealed with the emblem of the Elder Guard. The guardsman’s gaze drifted past the scholar for a moment, finding mine in the crowd. His mouth thinned into a straight line, his expression indecipherable as he dipped his chin, offering a slight nod in my direction. Not slight enough, unfortunately.
Godsdamnit, Grant.
This cohort was already particularly prone to gossip, as evidenced by the hushed whispers now exchanged by those paying attention. Exaggerated rumors had already been flying about over what, exactly, had happened the night I was spotted bleeding out in the captain’s arms as he’d carried me to the infirmary. None of them had the nerve to talktome about it, of course—but they were certainly talkingaboutme. Laurel had confirmed as much. My cheeks flamed furiously as I felt every single gaze in the godsdamned lecture hall turn toward me.
But my concern over petty chatter was immediately replaced with unease as Grant took his leave, because his expression had been grave—and now, there was no small amount of concern on Scholar Syke’s face as he approached my desk.
Fuck. Please be okay.
“A message for you, Miss Asher. The guardsman mentioned it was somewhat urgent, so please feel free to take your things and step outside if you’d prefer to read this in private.”
Urgent? Gods, please no.
As my anxiety rose, there was a slight tremble in my fingers as I accepted the envelope.
“I take it you may need to leave early, which is fine. Master Zephirin can share his notes from the remainder of the lecture in next week’s session, or I can have reading notes sent by end of day.”
“I’ll take the reading notes, please,” I replied, my mind too preoccupied to point out that I would rather attempt to swallow a textbook whole than trust notes taken by Percy. Still, I gave the scholar an appreciative nod and kept my head tucked low as I gathered up my things, tossing them haphazardly into my book bag.
I strode down the college hall after taking my leave, my mind still racing, worried for the worst as I found a familiar alcove and tucked myself into the bay window seating for a touch of privacy. My fingers were still trembling when I slid a nail beneath the sealing wax, holding my breath.
Please be okay, please be okay, please be?—
Good afternoon, Little Conduit.
“Oh, you motherfucker,” I groaned.
I was going to kill him.
In case you couldn’t tell…I fucking miss you. And since I was so firmly instructed to cease my habit of sending you mail sprites in the middle of your lectures, I’m sure you don’t mind me finding alternative means of communication.
And in my defense, Kraiggson’s been annoying the shit out of me all day. I needed to give the kid something to do.
But I digress…Care to swing by my office for lunch this afternoon? —K
Rolling my eyes but also relieved enough to bite back an idiotic grin, I rummaged through my bag for a spare scrap of parchment and a pencil.
Gods, you’re such a bastard. Did you really have to send a guardsman IN UNIFORM? Half of my classmates probably think I just got summoned for a tribunal, or that I’m getting my ass tossed in a jail cell again.
Also, if you need to give Kraiggson something to do, might I suggest: Jeremiah???
I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume you haven’t eaten anything today, so I’ll pick something up on the way. What would you like, you absolute menace of a man?