I’m so tired, all I want to do is sleep.
“Let me try.” This time it’s my uncle Finn who bends over me and says, “Grace, I need you to wake up for me, okay? Open your eyes. Come on. Right now.”
I ignore him, curling into an even tighter ball, and when he runs a comforting hand over the top of my head, I moan and try to pull my pillow over my face. But there’s no pillow under my head and no covers for me to yank up and hide beneath.
I’m almost conscious enough to recognize this as strange—almost—and when someone shakes my shoulder more forcefully this time, I manage to crack my eyes open just enough to see Macy, my uncle, and Amka staring down at me, all with worried looks on their faces.
I don’t have a clue what Uncle Finn or Amka is doing in our room, and at the moment, I don’t actually care. I just want them to leave so I can go back to sleep.
“There you are, Grace,” my uncle says. “There you go. Can you sit up for us? Maybe let us get a good look into those pretty eyes of yours? Come on now, Grace. Come back to us.”
“I’m tired,” I whine in a voice I’m sure I’ll be embarrassed about later. “I just want to—” I break off as pain registers for the first time. My throat is so dry that every word I speak feels like a razor blade scraping against my voice box.
Screw mornings. And screw three-person wake-up calls.
I close my eyes again as sleep continues to beckon, but apparently my uncle has had enough. He starts shaking me gently so that I can’t even curl up in peace now. “Come on, Grace.” His voice is firmer than it was before, more no-nonsense than I have ever heard it. “You need to snap out of this. Right now.”
I sigh heavily, but I finally manage to roll over to face him. “What’s the matter?” I rasp, forcing myself to speak, and to swallow, despite the pain. “What do you want?”
I hear a door open and close and then rapid footsteps coming closer. “What’s going on? Is she all right? I came as soon as I got Macy’s text.”
The worry in Jaxon’s voice finally manages to do what the coaxing and shaking couldn’t. I push myself into a sitting position and this time actually manage to pry my eyes all the way open.
“Can I have some water?” I ask through lips that feel absurdly parched, considering I’m not wandering the Sahara.
“Yeah, of course.” Macy grabs something from her backpack and hands it to me—a stainless-steel tumbler with the lid off. I take a long drink. Then go back for two more as my throat finally begins to feel human again.
As does the rest of me.
The cold water has the added benefit of getting my brain going, and as soon as I’ve slaked my thirst, I turn to Jaxon with what I’m sure are still sleep-fogged eyes.
“What’s going on?” I ask. “Why is everyone in Macy’s and my room?”
There’s a weird silence as the four of them look at one another, then back at me.
“What?” I ask again.
Macy sighs. “I hate to break it to you, Grace, but this is definitely not our room.”
“Whose room is it, then?” I ask, looking around. And that’s when panic hits me, because I realize Macy is right. This isn’t our room. It isn’t Jaxon’s room. In fact, I’m pretty positive it isn’t even a bedroom, unless the person furnishing it is a huge fan of Scary Dungeons ’R’ Us.
“Where are we?” I ask when I can finally find my voice again.
Amka steps in before Jaxon or my family can answer. Squatting down next to me—and for the first time, I realize I’m on the floor—she asks, “Where do you think you are?”
“I don’t know.” I look around again, this time hoping to find a clue as agitation builds inside me. I’m just beginning to realize that not only do I not know where I am, but I also have absolutely no idea how I got here.
And can I just say, this is seriously getting old?
The last thing I remember is sitting down to work in the library, with a sparkling water and some M&M’s. After that…nothing. It’s a blank. Again.
“Is someone hurt?” I demand, panic roaring through me. “Did I do it again? Did I attack someone?”
“No, Grace. Everything’s fine.” Amka puts what I know she means to be a calming hand on my shoulder, but it doesn’t work. It just makes me more freaked out, as does the low, soothing tone of her voice.
“Don’t do that. Don’t try to placate me.” I push away from her, leap to my feet…and turn to Jaxon. “Please, please don’t lie to me. Did I hurt someone? Did I—”
“No!” He says it much more vehemently, voice adamant and eyes steady as he stares into mine. “You didn’t hurt anyone, I swear. You’re the one we’re worried about right now.”
“Why? What happened?” I believe Jaxon, I do, but the memory of waking up covered in blood this morning is so strong that I can’t help looking down at my hands, my clothes, just to make sure. Just to feel safe.
I’m not bloody, thank God. But the sleeve of my blazer is ripped all to hell. Because that’s not terrifying at all, considering it’s just now reaching a high of freezing outside.
Suddenly, the concern on everyone’s faces makes a lot more sense. They aren’t worried that I hurt someone. This time, they’re worried that I’m the one who’s gotten hurt.
I swallow the fear exploding inside me like a hand grenade and try to breathe. I am going to figure this out. It’s bad enough that I lost four months to this mess. No way am I going to just accept that I’ve brought it back with me. No way am I going to let this become my new normal.
“Where am I?” I ask for a second time, because I am absolutely positive I’ve never been in a room with a crystal ball before ever, let alone at Katmere Academy. And I’ve certainly never been in a room with a candle collection that rivals Bath & Body Works—if Bath & Body Works was into carved-up ritual candles and enough incense to cover Alaska twice over.
“You’re in the casting tower,” Macy tells me.
“The casting tower?” I didn’t even know there was such a thing.
“It’s on the opposite side of the castle from my room,” Jaxon adds in what I assume is an attempt to help me get my bearings.
“Oh, right. The smaller tower on the gazebo side.” I shove a hand—one that I’m working overtime to keep steady—through my curls. “I guess I just always assumed it was somebody else’s dorm room.”
“Nope.” Macy shoots me a grin that almost touches her eyes. “Your boyfriend is the only one who rates a tower. This one belongs to all the witches.”