Magister Orion's footsteps echo against the floor of my cabin as he circles for the tenth ti. The sound matches the thrum of anxiety in my chest. Each ti he passes behind , my shoulders tense.
"Please stay still." His deep voice carries notes of concentration.
A warm breeze tickles my scalp as he places his hand near my head again. The sensation reminds of warm sumr days spent out in the sun—pleasant, but unremarkable.
"I apologize, but I must try once more."
My legs itch from standing so still. "Take your ti."
His frown deepens with each pass. The wrinkles around his eyes beco more pronounced as he squints, as if trying to see through fog.
"I cannot detect what you're describing." He lowers his hand. "The ability to inspect a soul is not a magic we use among the Fae. I sense nothing unusual about you." He then adds hastily, "I'm not doubting your word. Whatever this magic is, it's beyond my understanding. Beyond my sight."
Damn it. With Magister's obsession over reading all things magic-oriented, I'd hoped… "I see. Thank you."
Magister Orion's expression softens. "This simply ans we need a different approach. Sister Miriam might have better answers for you."
My shoulders slump at the ntion of her na. "I haven't heard from her in months. I don't even know if she's okay."
"Ah." He strokes his chin, his swirling, blue-black eyes distant. "It's likely dangerous for her to attempt contact outside the New Order at present."
She's alive. My heart thumps; while she isn't on my mind daily, I've been worried about her for quite so ti. "Why?"
His gaze fixes on mine, then slides away as he walks toward the couch to take a seat. "Sister Miriam has worked her way into the bosom of the New Order. The cost was... significant."
It's unusual for his body language to be so evasive. The corners of my lips tug down before I can stop them.
Grimoire murmurs, She likely had to sacrifice allies. It is understandable she wouldn't risk contacting those she wants to keep safe, then.
His opinion is like an unwelco jolt in my head. Sacrifice her allies? She wouldn't do that.
Grimoire goes silent in response, but Selene has no such qualms. A dhampir is not like us, Ava. Their favor is fickle.
I shake my head. The accusation doesn't sit right with . Sister Miriam might be cryptic and strange, but she doesn't seem the type to sacrifice others. She's helped us so many tis, demanding little to nothing in return. "What do you an by cost, Magister?"
His massive form shifts on my couch, the furniture creaking under his weight. A weary hand waves through the air. "That's a story for another day, child."
"But—"
"I have contacts among the vampire communities." He cuts off my protest to change the subject. "Though none I'd trust with your secrets. For now, we must wait for Sister Miriam herself."
Grimoire's grumble echoes in my mind. The sound reminds of thunder rolling across distant mountains.
Why don't you co out and speak with him directly? I ask Grimoire. Between the two of you, maybe you can figure sothing out. They're both masters of theory, after all.
I have no interest in becoming his next obsessive field of research. Grimoire's tone drips with disdain. Have you seen how his eyes light up at the re ntion of new magical knowledge? I've seen him in your mories. No, thank you.
The ntal image of Magister Orion hunched over Grimoire's book form, scribbling notes with fevered excitent, is enough to understand where he's coming from.
Selene rests her head on the Magister's leg, allowing him to pet her head and ears as she sits in front of him.
Magister Orion's fingers trace the outline of Selene's ears; she's long been a source of fascination for him. "Still so fascinating. A wolf spirit residing in a husky's form. How is this possible?"
"Your guess is as good as mine." My shoulders lift in a half-hearted shrug. "We stopped trying to figure it out months ago." A pang of guilt stabs through my chest as I add, "Her mories have disappeared, too. Not all, but a lot."
His swirling eyes narrow as he pinches Selene's ears together, then releases them. She doesn't even twitch at the contact, content to bask in his attention. "Disappeared, you say? I wonder." His massive form leans forward, causing my poor couch to protest. "Does your companion have access to her soul? Perhaps she bears similar wards."
Grimoire? I direct the question inward, where his presence burns like a banked fire. Can you check?
His response crackles with irritation. My bond lies with you, not her. I cannot access Selene's soul any more than I can access the soul of that tree outside your window.
The acid in his tone makes wince. He'd talked about getting to the bottom of her missing mories, so I'd assud—
Her mind and mories are not the sa as her soul. Linked, but not the sa. A soul cos with its own protections.
"I have no idea," I tell Magister Orion truthfully.
Magister Orion's fingers still on Selene's ears. "Your souls are connected, yet you sense one and not the other? That seems... peculiar."
My heart skips; Grimoire doesn't want Magister Orion to know about his existence, but he's exactly the reason I know this information. "Well, I—" Heat crawls up my neck. "I had a dream about my soul. That's how I knew about the wards."
Smooth, Grimoire drawls. Very convincing.
Shut up.
"A dream?" Magister Orion's swirling eyes fix on my face; there's no way he doesn't understand that I'm lying. "I see."
I clear my throat, desperate to redirect his attention. "What do you know about soul wards in general?"
"Ah." Magister Orion shakes his head. "Soul magic is not sothing we Fae dabble in. The soul is sacred—ant to be untouched, the purview of the gods." His fingers resu their gentle strokes along Selene's ears. "Though that hasn't stopped so from trying."
"What do you an?"
"There are always those who seek forbidden knowledge." His swirling eyes darken to pure black. "The obsessive. The desperate. Those who believe they can master powers beyond mortal comprehension."
My skin crawls. "Did they succeed?"
His lips press into a thin line, and he finally leans back, dropping his hand from Selene's head. "We don't know. Their research was destroyed, their nas struck from our histories."
"But so survived?"
"In secret, it's likely. And there are vampires. They understand more about the soul than any other race. Their very existence depends on it—the transfer of life force, the manipulation of death itself. But they don't share such information with others. It is, after all, their weakness."
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