I shiver even though the night is hot and muggy. “Thank you.”
He laces our fingers together and flashes a small, secret smile. “So, about yesterday morning…”
“What about yesterday morning?” I ask, the fresh thrill of being in his orbit returning in a single rush.
That smile stretches into a grin as he shakes his head. “You forget already, B?” He slides one palm up my shoulder to my neck, caresses my collarbone with his thumb. Draws me in until our foreheads touch. “Must have been an awful kiss,” he murmurs.
“Terrible,” I breathe, and the coiled tension of the day releases by a thread.
“I knew it,” he says, then angles his mouth to meet mine—and the sound of a throat clearing beside us breaks us apart.
Sel stands at Nick’s elbow. “The drive to the airport was one thing, but now that you’re back, I need you to stay in sight.”
Nick sighs and releases me. “We need to talk in private for a few minutes, Sel. We aren’t leaving.” He moves to step around Sel, but Sel follows, stopping us.
The Kingsmage’s eyes flick down to our joined hands. “This is a bad idea.”
I can’t tell if he means our leaving the porch or our holding hands, and Nick’s stormy expression says he notices the ambiguity too, and doesn’t appreciate it. I didn’t realize I’d started to pull away until Nick’s hand tightens around mine. “Leave us.”
Sel’s eyes slide to the crowd over Nick’s shoulder, then back. “Is that an order?”
“It is.”
Sel’s mouth curves into a sardonic smile. “Cute. But your father left me in charge while he’s gone, and you’re staying here. The Shadowborn want you, and I’m not going to make their job easier.”
Nick is so incensed I can hear his teeth grinding together. “Sel…”
“Don’t make a scene, Nicholas.”
I chance a quick look over my shoulder. Tor’s watching our exchange, and so are a few others. Sarah, Russ, Vaughn, Fitz. I tug on Nick’s hand, and his eyes drop to mine. I try to communicate with my eyes that I don’t want an audience. The look on his face says he understands, but he’s still not happy. He lets me lead him back to the tables. He sits close again, so that our shoulders and hips are snug, but this time I can feel his entire body shaking in impotent rage.
* * *
Back in my room, I miss Alice already, but I also feel a guilty sort of relief that she’s gone; all of this lying and hiding is wearing me thin.
“How did you find this out again?” Nick asks, the confusion in his voice clear over the phone. I’d spent the last twenty minutes pacing the length of our room, filling him in on the mysterious figure on campus who opened a Gate twenty-five years ago.
“Are you sure Sel can’t hear you?”
“I told you, he’s on patrol with Tor and Sar and ordered me to stay inside the Lodge’s wards.” I remember the aether shield I’d touched that first time I visited the Lodge and how it ripples against my skin whenever I walk through it. Sarah had explained that the wards will keep out anyone—or anything—who hasn’t been invited. I hate to say it, but I agree with Sel; Nick should stay inside for now.
“Bree?” Nick prompts, then repeats, “Who told you about this other Gate opening?”
“I don’t know if I can say,” I say with a sigh.
He chuckles. “Okay…”
I plop down on my comforter. “I don’t want to betray this person’s trust or put them at risk. You’re the one who told me that the Regents are severely anti–aether users they don’t control.”
“I did. So this person is an aether user? On campus?”
I hesitate. But this is Nick. I can tell him at least that much. “Yes.”
“An aether user you found? Or one that found you?”
“A bit of both?”
“Are they safe?” The concern in his voice is clear.
“Yes. They want to help me. And they were here when my mom was here, although they didn’t know her well. They… keep a low profile.”
He takes this news surprisingly well. “Probably best I don’t know who they are, then. Are they like you?”
I fall back on my pillow. “I don’t think so.”
“Ah. But you believe them?”
I gnaw on my lip, trying to think of the phrasing that will keep Rootcraft and memory walks and Patricia out of the conversation. “I believe what they showed me. Why? You don’t believe me?”
He sighs, and I imagine him in his room, lying back on his bed too. The thought—and the memory of sleeping there with him—makes something warm curl up in a ball in my belly. “Oh, I believe you, but I’ve never heard of anything like that happening. Dad’s never said anything about it and neither has Sel, and as Kingsmage for this chapter he has access to all the records of Shadowborn Gate crossings, appearances, and attacks. I don’t think even the eighth-ranked Scion was Called back then, so it was peacetime as far as Camlann is concerned. As far as I know, only demon blood can open Gates, so maybe it was an uchel in human form?”
I chew on my cheek, parsing through all that I’ve seen and learned today. “Or a Merlin?”
“They’re bound by Oaths.”
“What about a human holding a vial of demon blood?”
“Where’d you get that idea?”
“Something William said earlier about taking Sel’s bloodwork.”
“Sel’s—” A pause. A sigh. “He told you about Sel?”
I scrunch up my face. “I guessed.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“Because I’m clever.”
“That you are.” Affection and pride bloom in his voice. “Well, Sel’s a cambion, so theoretically even his blood could work. But that’s still casting beyond anything I’ve ever heard of. Dark casting.”
The chanting sounded dark. “The Line of Morgaine?”
“Possibly. And this person just so happened to open this Gate and release partial-corp hellhounds at the time you think your mother was enrolled?”
“I’m positive it’s when she was here. It’s too much of a coincidence. The question is, if the Regents found out about the Gate opening, would they have kept it secret?”
“Partial-corp hounds aren’t visible to Onceborns. The Merlin would have detected the pack and sent the chapter to kill them. No need to involve the Regents.”
“But if the demons consumed enough aether to go full-corp?”
A pause.
“If Onceborns witnessed and were attacked by a corporeal pack, the Regents would do everything in their power to bury it. Work with the Vassals or former Pages in the university’s administration to keep it quiet on campus. Facilitate bribes to any outsiders in the town’s government to keep it off the news. Pay off any Onceborn families if their children were injured or killed. Mesmer them if they had to.”
“What about sending a Merlin to chase down a Onceborn witness?” I ask. “Even if it’s almost three decades later?”
“Without question.” He blows out a long, low stream of air. “I don’t trust the Order to always use the best methods, but the mission is protecting Onceborns, not murdering them.”