Page 22 of Demon of Dreams

“Giant Darth-Vader-y guys, with horns and tails and stuff?”

My breath caught. “That’s what they’re called?”

Ash nodded. “Mercenaries, mostly, but Professor Romero says it’s not unknown for them to act independently. They feed off the pain of other beings.”

It was unnerving, having your worst fears allayed and stoked at the same time. I wasn’t crazy, and I wasn’t imagining the things that had chased me. But if those things were real, it meant theyweretrying to hurt me. Or kill me, even. It meant I really was in danger.

“Fuck,” I whispered. “So this is all real?”

“Unfortunately!” Ash gave me a half-smile, half-grimace. “But you’re safe here, I promise. Dean Mansur works hard to make sure of that. And Cinda’s an incredible healer. Whatever damage you took on your way here, you’re gonna be okay. It’s only been twenty-four hours, and she said you’ve basically recovered already.”

Ash kept saying people’s names like I should know who they were. I hoped this wasn’t the kind of magical university that went in for pop quizzes, because I wasn’t retaining anything. But something else he’d said stopped me cold.

“Twenty-fourhours?” I repeated, sitting up straighter. The cat kneaded my legs with her paws until I stopped moving. “I’ve been unconscious a whole day? I have to tell people where I am. I have to—I mean, I have alife, I can’t just disappear like this.”

“You didn’t tell people where you were going?”

“There wasn’t exactly time. Jesus, I have a job. I havetwojobs. I can’t just abandon them. I need to call some people, then figure out a way out of here.”

Ash winced. “That, um, might be a little difficult. Vesperwood and phones don’t really mix. Most of the time, that’s fine. You’ll get fitted for your vocator soon.”

Saying that, he raised his right arm to display a winding curlicue of metal and stone that curved around his wrist. “You can use that to message other students. And there’s always the tubes for official mail.”

“Tubes?”

“Technically it’s called the Intracampus Scribal System, but everyone just calls it the tubes.”

He gestured over his shoulder at a long, glass and brass tube that came out of the ceiling in one corner of the room, then ran along a wall before dropping down to a small shelf at waist-height right next to the door. There was a small, brass-bound wooden chest there, with two rolled up scrolls of paper sitting inside it.

I shook my head, overwhelmed with all the phrases he was throwing around so casually.

“But if you’re trying to reach people outside,” Ash continued, “that’s a little more complicated. I’m sure the dean can help you with whatever you need, but Cory, now that you’re here, I don’t think you should leave. Not for a little while, at least.”

“Why? I’m only here because of that damn raven, and those weird blogs, and—wait.” I went back over our conversation in my mind. “You never answered my last question. You said you didn’t know what I am. Not who, butwhat. What does that mean?”

Ash flushed. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. It’s not considered polite to just up and ask someone. With some people, there are signs, and other people will come right out and tell you, but if they don’t volunteer the information, you’re not supposed to ask. I swear I wasn’t trying to be pushy. It was just me being thoughtless. Not that that makes it better, I guess. I should probably just talk less like Felix says. I’m sorry if I offended you.”

“I’m not offended,” I said slowly. Iwasstarting to feel tired, though. Just sifting through everything Ash said was exhausting. “I’m just…lost.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know what I am either.”

The words were barely out of my mouth when a door on the far side of the room swung open. Light spilled in from the hall, silhouetting a tall figure in the doorway. A deep voice spoke.

“What you are, Cory, is in danger. And we don’t have much time left to save you.”

I stared as the stranger walked into the room. He raised a hand and whispered something I couldn’t quite hear, and suddenly a light above the doorway went on. It was a perfect sphere, and I couldn’t see the lightswitch he must have pushed, but that was the least of my worries.

The man was tall and thin. He had warm brown skin and short dark hair with a white streak over his left brow and a prominent widow’s peak. I wasn’t sure if he was angry with me, or if his eyebrows just made him look that way. The look in his dark brown eyes didn’t clear anything up. His lips were a deep red, and currently pressed into a thin line as he gazed at the two of us.

He was dressed way more formally than Ash, in a three-piece suit of charcoal gray that probably cost more than four months’ worth of my wages from the diner. The long, elegant fingers of his right hand pulled a gold pocket watch from his vest pocket. He inspected it for a moment, then snapped it shut and returned it. His left hand was closed over the top of a cane.

Ash hurried to his feet, brushing his hair back from his eyes again and straightening his shirt. He looked nervous, which mademenervous, and I tried to smooth some of the wrinkles out of my sweatshirt. Only the cat was unperturbed.

“Sir,” Ash said, words spilling from his mouth. “I didn’t see you. Not that you’re not allowed to—that is, I was just going to find you. Cory’s awake. I mean, you can see that. I was going to tell you, but then Cory was asking about—well, I wasn’t sure what I should—”

“Relax, Ash.” The man’s voice was cool and measured, but the corner of his mouth curled up in the tiniest hint of amusement. “You did well. But I need to talk to Cory now. You’ll see him again tomorrow morning.”

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