Page 45 of Foresyth Conservatory
I stacked the books from my satchel in the order I planned to read them. Even though I could manage nearly a hundred pages an hour, it would take most of the afternoon to get through the stack I’d set for today. Preparing for the Councilmeant immersing myself in the history and lore ofThe Book of Skorn—the rare text Julian had been researching.
If academic rigor was what they valued, I was determined to deliver it. The magickal devotion, however, was where I was at a loss. How could I experience something I didn’t believe in? Perhaps I’d ask Nina for advice when she returned.
A few hours passed as I combed through the books, jotting down notes. I found a steady rhythm and was content to stay there for the rest of the evening. But just as I was getting hungry for dinner, Nina came bolting down the stairs, several dead pheasants in hand.
“Dahlia, oh thank goodness you’re down here!” she exclaimed, her excitement evident as she dropped the pheasants right onto my workstation.
“Hey, you’re going to get that all over my notes,” I said, pushing the feathered creatures aside. I looked up at Nina and noticed she was covered in dirt. Dark smears of mud ran down her cheeks; some was even caked in her hair.
“What on earth have you been up to?”
“Field research,” she replied, plucking the pheasants off my desk and moving them to her brine baths. “That card scrying trick of yours worked. I finally found those grounds! Aspen is going to eat his words.”
“Do you find them dead, or . . . do you kill them?” I asked, wrinkling my nose at the birds. “Actually, never mind. I’d rather not know.”
“Once I put these away, you have to come with me. You have to see it for yourself,” she said, her voice high with excitement.
“Out there? It’s raining. And we aren’t allowed out after dark. Plus, it’s almost dinner time.” I began stacking my books back into my bag. I hadn’t spent much time outside since arriving at Foresyth save for this morning with Sequoia. The weather had been inhospitable, and Richard had mentioned that landscaping wouldn’t start until March. “Maybe tomorrow, when it’s light out.”
Nina grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me. Despite her lanky build, there was a surprising strength in her grip. Her short hair was plastered to her head with mud, but her eyes were wild and determined.
“No, we have to go tonight. I need to make sure what I saw is real.”
There was something in her tone that made me uneasy. What did she mean,real? What had she seen?
“Fine, but let’s have dinner first. You missed lunch, so I know you must be starving. Besides, if we sneak out after dinner, it’ll raise less suspicion than if we’re both missing now.”
Her grip loosened as she considered. “Fine, but you promise we’ll go out afterward?”
“Yes, I promise,” I replied, already wishing I’d held my tongue.
*
Dinner was uneventful. Richard was serving a vegetable dish, so luckily there was no risk of eating pheasants. Everyone was at the dinner table, including Leone and the Trees. I made easy conversation talking about the experiments Leone and I ran the other day.
“It worked like a charm. I didn’t believe it at first, but that box works like magick. Plus, Dahlia’s analysis itself was impressive,” Leone said, raising his wine glass to me. He was in a jovial mood after I had resolved his timeline dispute. A swell of pride rose in my chest. This feeling of acceptance was new to me.
“How do you know it worked?” Aspen injected. “I mean, how do you know the sample that Dahlia said is the oldest, is actually the oldest? There’s no way to verify it.”
“That’s why it shouldn’t be the only method of dating. Leone has other conventional ways of dating the maps, such as the ink colors used or other markers,” I defended. Why was he always so contrarian?
I stole a glance at Sequoia, who sat quietly twirling her fork through a nest of spaghetti, her expression unreadable. Despite the closeness we’d begun to share, something always shifted when Aspen entered the room—a subtle distance, as if I were intruding on a language only the two of them spoke.
I needed to make progress on the case—not just to find the truth, but to fulfill my promise. To get her away from him.
“Why don’t you just run an experiment where you already know the answer? Date two pieces of paper that are separated by a known time period to confirm the method works,” Aspen continued. “That way you can be sure that it works.”
I hated to admit it, but it was actually a good idea. An additional control. But it was also adding to my pile of work, which was already overflowing. Was that his intent, to overwhelm me with more work so I would stop following him as a suspect? I eyed him carefully.
“I’d need two pieces of paper with dated ink.”
“That should be easy. We all keep yearly journals don’t we? I know you have a few to spare.” He winked. He was referencing Julian’s journals just to irk me.
“I have my own I could test on,” I said, ending the conversation there. The rest of the dinner went on without further qualm, but I couldn’t help but notice the rhythmic shaking of Nina’s leg under the table. She had washed and changed for dinner, but there was a nervous energy about her. Whatever was out there, I wasn’t looking forward to seeing it.
*
“Are you sure we need to do this tonight?” I asked, my last plea to get out of whatever Nina had in store for us.
