Page 81 of Foresyth Conservatory
There were only two people I could count on to help me figure out how to imbue something with magick. I weighed my options carefully before landing on the fairer Tree.
It didn’t take long to find Sequoia. She was humming in the sitting room, her legs draped across the chaise, a small book in hand. She looked up as I entered and smiled. The entire room became a few lumens brighter.
“Dahlia, there you are. How are you feeling?”
“Much better, thanks.” I offered her a cracked smile in return. I should be as cautious of her as I was of Aspen, but that smile of hers was so disarming that I let go of my suspicions almost entirely. Almost.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said during Circle the other night,” I started, rounding the chaise so I could take a seat next to her. “About how I ought to tap into Sophia’s powers.”
“Yes?” She closed her book, her eyes widening. The look on her face confirmed that I had found the right avenue for this misadventure.
“Well, I think it’s a good idea. And I was wondering if you’d help me.” My stomach curled at my deception, Aspen’s accusations of me being the manipulator echoing back in my head. I swallowed my guilt down as I approached her.
She reached out a delicate hand and placed it on mine. Her skin was as soft as lace and smelled faintly of lavender. I wondered if she picked it from the garden outside the House.
“I’d be honored to,” she said. “After you helped me and Aspen, I can’t think of a better way of returning the favor.”
I blinked. “Wait, what do you mean I helped you and Aspen?”
“You know, saving me. It’s given us perspective, and we’ve put all the Julian nonsense behind us. There’s nothing morearousing to a man than almost dying.” She chuckled at this. Something hot and bitter was rising in my throat at the mention of Aspen. “Besides, the whole deal with the Tower in your reading was right.”
“It was?”
“Yes, of course—it predicted my soul flight. Dying was like falling out of a Tower. That’s how I knew I was dying; it was the falling that convinced me of it. And you and Aspen were there to catch me.”
Her hair was pulled back to reveal the delicate flesh of her collarbone, sprinkled with a constellation of freckles. I distantly wondered if Aspen connected them to read her birth chart.
I understood, then, what Aspen found so mesmerizing about her. There was something so magical about holding on to a thing that could so easily break, that could crumble in your hands. She was like a paper mâché doll set next to a scalding hot furnace.
The potential of her destruction was awe-inspiring.
“I’m glad that it helped,” I said, trying to keep my tone casual.
“It did. We haven’t quarreled, and he hasn’t been able to keep his hands off me since,” she cooed. Heat rose to my cheeks, my heart sinking. I thought of Aspen’s lips on me the day before: enthusiastic, lingering. Had all that been another one of his tricks? I turned away, embarrassed by my swell of jealousy. I was foolish to suspect anything besides his trickery. Trusting him, even for a second, had been a mistake.
“I’m glad it’s all worked out,” I lied through my teeth. But my tone didn’t have the uptick of the earnestness it neededto be convincing, and Sequoia’s eyes furrowed. I reached for her hand, quickly changing the subject. “And I’m glad you’re in a better place now to help me channel the magick of the cards.”
The fine line of her lips turned upward, and I sighed internally in relief. “Of course. We should start as soon as possible—tonight.” Her eyes flickered back to mine with a gravity that was not lost on me. “After Circle, so we don’t have any interruptions.”
“Tonight,” I agreed, swallowing hard.
*
I don’t know what possessed me, but I decided to wear something nice. I found my finest, non-threadbare pair of slacks and a bright white blouse that fit me properly. It may have even accentuated what little feminine curvature I had. I even tried to tie my hair back—my mother always said I had lovely cheekbones hidden behind my curly mat of hair—but it didn’t look quite right, so I let it down again. I couldn’t help but feel insignificant next to Sequoia in so many ways. Perhaps by dressing myself up, I could feel less like a sack of potatoes. I never thought such things would matter to me.
But then again, a lot had changed since I came to Foresyth.
Sequoia and I stole glances during Circle, but I didn’t let my gaze linger too long. I nodded attentively to the Meister, who was guiding us in a discussion on free will, keeping up my cover as the ever-diligent student as I still threatened to unravel his school. I disagreed with the premise of the discussion but wasn’t in the mood to engage in rhetoric tonight, finding it better to save my energy.
“And what about you, Mr. Barlowe?” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aspen’s eyes dart toward me. Anger rose in my chest again, too familiar, too recent.
“Contrary to the beliefs presented here, I actually don’t believe in free will,” he said, relaxing his arms behind him. Of course, he was ever the contrarian.
“And are you going to share with the group your reasoning?”
“There was an Advisor-supported research study in Oxford. Pre-synaptic neural spikes are fired in our brains moments before we commit an action. Our brain chemistry commands us to do things before our conscious thought,” I could feel his gaze burning into my skull, but I kept my expression neutral. Was his double-meaning intending to bait me?
He was dressed handsomely this evening in a crisp white shirt, ironed trousers, and suspenders with his evening jacket resting behind him on the chaise. It was only natural, polite even, to keep one’s eyes on the speaker. His lips curled upright when he caught my eye.
