Page 95 of Give the Dark My Love

“It’s my appointment time.” Grey looked around him. “But I guess it’s true.”

“That Master Ostrum was arrested? Yes.”

“For treason?” Grey asked. He searched for an oil lamp, finally finding one on Master Ostrum’s desk. “That’s the rumor anyway. That he was secretly performing necromancy.”

Grey turned away from me and lit the lamp behind him, the steady flame providing more light than his feeble candle. His backstiffened. He didn’t look up at me as he asked, “That’s not what he had you doing, right?”

“No.” My tone remained neutral, my face remained in shadow.

“Because the rat—”

“I have not raised the dead,” I said. “Nor has Master Ostrum.”

He mumbled something.

“What?” I asked.

“I said, you can’t know that for sure. About Ostrum, I mean. They say the Emperor himself decreed his arrest.”

“Master Ostrum isn’t a necromancer,” I insisted. “And we couldn’t perform necromancy even if we wanted to. We don’t have an iron crucible.”Not yet. “But, Grey,” I added, “you know that the plague is necromantic, right? A necromancer started this, and it will take a necromancer to finish it.”

“Have you ever wondered,” Grey said, looking around the smashed office, “if it could be the same necromancer?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Ostrum is one of the best alchemists on Lunar Island. He could be showing off. Start a plague... then end it. Be a hero.”

I stared at him for several moments. “That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said,” I snapped.

“You’re too close to him,” Grey protested. “He likes the fame. The prestige.”

“Yes, that’s why he became a teacher. For the lucrative pay and the respect.”

“Nedra,” Grey said. “While you were gone, Ostrum presented at the court. He talked about his legacy, he rambled on about the importance of preserving history—it was weird, to be honest. The Emperor started an inquirybecauseOstrum was dancing around the subject of necromancy. In court. In front of everyone. Like it was nothing.”

“Master Ostrum.”

“What?”

“MasterOstrum,” I repeated, subtly stressing the word. “Show some respect.”

Grey shook his head. “We’re going to be reassigned,” he said. “Probably Professor Pushnil. Or Professor Xhamee. That would be better. More connections.”

“Sure.Connections,” I said, my voice hollow.

Grey crossed the room and, for the first time, seemed to actuallyseeme. “Oryous’s stars, Nedra, what happened?” He stroked my ratty hair, his fingers falling to my face. I could feel the dirt and grime that stood between us. “Is this berrilias powder?”

“For lice,” I said as he wiped the white dust from his fingers.

“Lice? What happened in your village?”

“I was at the hospital for that bit,” I said. “After—”

“But you said—” Grey frowned. Ihadn’tsaid I was all right, that my family was fine. He’d just heard in the silence what he hoped to be true. “Nedra, whathappened?” His question was gentler this time, his attention finally focused.

It was too late.

He wrapped his arms around me in a hug I didn’t return. “You’re safe now,” he whispered into my dirty hair. “You’re home.”

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