“Try me.”

Paul tilted his head to the side, a humorless smile curving his lips. “Here I thought we were going for the honest approach.”

I scowled at him, infuriated by his words. I wanted to slap him for real. I wanted to …

My anger eased off as I realized he was right. I wouldn’t believe him. No matter what he said. That trust had been broken.

I exhaled, annoyed to be seeing things from his perspective. “I guess you’ve got a point.”

Paul nodded, a forlorn look in his eyes. He folded his arms over his chest. “So here we are.”

“Yep. Here we are.”

He took another step toward me, and I tensed. It was almost painful to be this close to him again. His voice came out a husky whisper. “Is there anything I can do that will allow you to believe me?”

I closed my eyes, my head fuzzy with emotions and memories rising to the surface. I found myself remembering all the kisses we’d shared and the way his body had felt pressed to mine.

I swallowed and forced my eyes open. It occurred to me that he might be using his siren powers on me, but I dismissed the idea at once. I knew he wasn’t. Not yet, anyway. Or if he was it was so slight that he might not be doing it on purpose. I remembered all too clearly what it felt like when he was doing it on purpose.

“Take it all back,” I said, my voice tight with emotion. “Take back all the things you did.”

Paul looked down. “You know I can’t do that, Dusty. Nobody can change the past. Not even magickind.”

Would you even want to? I wanted to ask him. Would you change all of it or just the part where you got caught?

I kept the question to myself. I could guess the answer he would give, but he was right—I wouldn’t believe him.

Paul took one last step toward me, this one putting him close enough we were almost touching. Then he did touch me, laying his hands on top of mine where they still clutched the book.

“Read it,” he said, pushing The Atlantean Chronicle toward me. “Search it for clues and secrets and all the worst things you think of me. And when you don’t find anything, give it back. Deal?”

“Deal,” I said, my voice catching.

He stepped away from me, his hands sliding off mine. He turned and started to leave, but paused after a few steps. He looked over his shoulder at me and said, “I’m sorry.” Then he turned back and disappeared into the shadows at the end of the hallway.

* * *

I felt better once I stepped inside my dorm, safer. Physically at least. I locked the door, including the dead bolt. Too bad I couldn’t turn a lock in my brain and block out all the thoughts. There were so many things to think about—the Senate Hall dream, Paul, the stone plinth and what the new letter might be, Paul, The Atlantean Chronicle, and Paul.

Yet more pressing was the sudden realization that I was alone in the dorm room. Selene was gone. Again. I walked into the bedroom and switched on the light to be sure. Her bed wasn’t just empty, it was still made.

But when I came back into the living room I spotted a handwritten note propped against my eTab.

Hey Dusty, went out for a walk. Don’t wait up for me.—Selene

Glad we had progressed to the note-leaving stage of whatever secret she was keeping, I sat down and pulled my eTab out of its cradle. I didn’t want to write a dream journal, but I didn’t dare skip it. Submitting them late—or not at all—was one of Lady Elaine’s biggest pet peeves. Even if what I wrote was garbage, just getting it in would save me a lot of trouble. Mostly I didn’t want to write it because I wasn’t ready to face the implications of that dream and what all those dead people meant—myself included. I shivered.

At least I could leave out the part about the stone plinth. I would do as I promised Eli and get Mr. Deverell’s help, but there was no reason to divulge my secrets to Lady Elaine and whoever else in the magickind government read my journals. I had a right to some privacy, same as anyone else.

I switched the eTab on and as I moved to open the dream journal app, I saw an instant message waiting for me. It had arrived more than an hour before from OracleGirl, Lady Elaine’s online handle. I clicked on it, read the brief message, and then started to grin. I might be overwhelmed with questions right now, but at least one of them would be answered very soon.

Britney Shell was awake.

17

Sympathies

I slept in later than I’d wanted the next morning. When I rolled over to check the alarm clock I saw it was almost eleven. Crap. I wanted to try and get to Vejovis today to see Britney, but securing a pass and finding a ride would take time. School policy stated only a parent or legal guardian could sign out an underclassman from Arkwell. I’d asked Lady Elaine if she could bend the rules for me, but she shot me down. Focus on Paul, she insisted—Britney wasn’t my main concern anymore and she needed time to rest.

Oh, well, at least I’d had a good night sleep for once—no dreams or nightmares about flesh-eating crows or the stone plinth. I yawned and stretched and slowly sat up. Across the room from me, Selene was still in her bed. I was glad to see it. When I finally passed out last night, she still hadn’t come back yet.

As if she’d heard me thinking about her, Selene stirred and rolled toward me.

I gasped when I saw her face. “What happened to you?”

Selene’s eyes fluttered open, and she blinked stupidly at me for a second, too drowsy to understand the question.

“I mean your face.” Scratches and welts ran down one side. She looked like she’d picked a fight with a thorn bush and lost.