"Have you made any friends yet?" Yvonne asked me over her cup of morning tea. Though her smile was friendly, there was a sparkle in her eye that was positively devilish—the kind women get when they go fishing for gossip.

I sighed and unfortunately resigned myself to my fate. It was the end of the week, and I had no classes to escape to. Though, surprisingly, I was a little excited to begin my sampling classes. I took a delicate sip and instantly regretted it as the tea burned my lip. Sputtering, I set my cup down and wiped my face. "Not particularly," I said. "I don't see the point. I'm there to watch, not make friends."

She hummed to herself in what I thought was disbelief, but she was busy taking another sip. Much more delicately than me, I might add. "Are you aware you can be quite difficult?"

"I've been told." She said it jokingly, but it did sting of that night in the theater when I was hardly myself and behaved a fool. "You don't have to be friendly with me either. I know you only do it so that I will let my guard down and be more willing to share information. Well, it doesn't matter. I'm duty-bound to tell Elias everything I learn, and so far I've learned nothing."

That was only partially true. I'd been semi-threatened by an anonymous source and hadn't told him, meaning there was at least something fishy happening at the academy. I kept it to myself because it seemed more related to my quest for the grave than my being a spy. On that front, all was quiet. I didn't think anyone knew of my identity as the late-king's bastard daughter either. I was no one. Just another ghost wandering the halls.

However, because of the threat, I had begun to take my suspect list more seriously. Before, it had been rather blank because I hadn't met anyone of particular note. Now, I knew someone in that classroom or at the school that day was watching me, which was a very small pool. There was Vesper, of course, who was annoying and did strike me as a guy with ulterior motives, and he had been in the seat next to mine, so I'd put him high on the list. Partially out of spite.

There were the other students there whom I knew nothing about, as well as the professor who had administered our paper exam. I didn't even catch his name. Then there were the five professors who were the judges of my magic prowess. I doubted the culprit was any one of them, unless they'd sprinted across campus while I was walking with Bren.

Finally, there was Bren. It was somewhat odd that he had been at school at all, but I did believe that his professor had asked him to come. After all, none of them were surprised when he showed up with me, and they had trusted his word on our lateness. He had been helpful to me too.

But I also knew he was, on some level, watching me. He had seen me in the library. If he was clever at all, he might have been able to piece together what I was looking for based on the books I'd browsed.

It made my skin crawl to even consider him, so I pushed the whole list aside. I didn't have enough motive for anyone present that day, nor did I have evidence of anything. It might have even been a prank. The best thing for me to do was continue as if nothing had happened.

Yvonne looked somewhat wounded when I returned to the present and reached for my scalding cup again. She traced her thumb over the rim of her cup in solemn silence. We sat that way, sipping our tea, until the anger inside me unraveled to reveal a glimpse of something uglier beneath, and I regretted again the sword that was my tongue.

I had every right to be angry, of course I did. I was just growing so weary of it. I didn't want to be angry.

I had to, though. If I wasn't angry, I was vulnerable. Placid girls got buried alive and stayed there dying; vengeful girls clawed their way back up.

"You should not let yourself be alone, Celestine," Yvonne finally said, a mere whisper in a storm. "You've been isolated from everything you know and everyone you love, for whatever reason. You must know that is no accident."

"And I've been dropped into a den of snakes. Forgive me for not befriending them."

"Metaphors are not my strong suit... perhaps it is not the snakes you should seek to befriend but the people outside the den who are able to pull you out?"

My fingers dug into the arm of my chair. "What, like you?"

Her face fell. "Whomever you decide is worthy of your trust."

It's nearly impossible to decide that, I wanted to snap. What good was trust in this sort of world? But I said nothing, save to thank her for the tea. I left behind an almost full cup when I rose from my chair and fled the parlor. Someday, she would understand there was no one worth trusting because no one wanted to save one girl from the snake pit.

It was for the best. Left there long enough, I'd probably become a snake too, indistinguishable from everyone around me. Angry. Spiteful. Merciless. If someone came to save me after it was too late, I was sure to bite.

I would get out before then. Perhaps it was time I set a trap.

In my room, I found my schoolbag haphazardly thrown onto my bed and my books spilling out from its open mouth. My charm book was open to the page I had left it on, the threatening note stuck in its spine as my bookmark. It was an unfortunate thing, but I needed it breathing down my neck if I was to stay alert. Let the grave rest, it still said. Like I was going to do that.

The page detailed a complex and highly advanced spell called shadow step, one that would supposedly allow me to mask my presence entirely. In its completeness, it was too hardcore for me to utilize at my current level; however, when I broke it down into its components, there were things I could borrow. If I could walk without sound, disappear into darkness, and make myself near impossible to spot at first glance, I'd be able to make far greater progress with less risk, for I would truly be unnoticeable.

"Try and stop me," I said, taking up the book and calling my power to myself.

<><><>

I waited at the crack in my door until soft snores were all I could hear from Elias and Yvonne's room. Around me, the house had gone dark and quiet as night fell. A clock chimed somewhere in the hall. Midnight. I slung my bag over my shoulder, climbed up to my window, and pushed it open. I hung there on the sill, staring down into the courtyard in a familiar paralyzing trance. My leg throbbed with a phantom reminder of the last time I had done something this stupid.

That was then. Shifting my weight, I freed my left hand and tugged back the sleeve of my tunic with my teeth to reveal a scrawl of spells up my wrist. One detailed instructions for a spell that would slow my descent just enough to prevent injury.

It took a painful few seconds to find it in the mess of ink, but it was easy enough to draw up the power once I did. I surrounded myself in the thin veil of my hollow magic then, rocking forward, I leapt out of my window. My stomach dropped, but the wind didn't rake me to pieces. I didn't smash into a broken pile of Celestine on the ground either. Instead, I drifted as slowly as a leaf, lowered gently until the toes of my boots touched the grass. The veil popped like a bubble, and my full weight slammed into me. Unnerved, I toppled over, nearly eating a faceful of dirt—I managed to catch myself at the last second, but the impact still rattled me somewhat.

Flustered (and mostly thankful there was no one around to see such a blunder), I rose and dusted myself off, then began to carefully make my way out to the streets. I had a long, brisk walk before me to the academy with only the hazy, overcast sky as my companion. The low rumble of thunder rolling across the expanse promised rain too. I hurried on, tugging my sleeve lower over my precious scrawl of inked spells to protect it from incoming rain, though it never fell.

As I approached the towering spires of the academy, its shadow stretched long and dark across the street. At night, it was even more foreboding than during the day, its halls eerily quiet and empty. Even the streetlamps around it seemed dimmer.

I shuddered and climbed the steps up to the large doors. They were shut tight and refused to budge when I tugged one. I huffed, planted my feet, and pulled until all of me strained with effort. The door creaked open then, unlocked but just stubborn.

Darkness enveloped me as I snuck inside, tugging the heavy door shut behind me. Every fourth sconce was lit with a dim flame, which made me frown. What was the point of leaving any of them burning when no one was here? If this was the doing of the lamp lighters, it was poor work. Though... I didn't know why I cared. If the school burned down, I'd be home free, right?

It would probably get blamed on me somehow. Then I'd face my second execution. The blade in my chest. The cold steel. The blood seeping out around me.

A shudder went through me, horrible and violent. For a moment, I couldn't move, couldn't feel anything but myself slipping away and the agony of a long-gone wound. Then it passed, and I was alive again. The flower of Death hummed dutifully at my waist, an ever-present boon with me.

Sticking close to the wall, I snuck down the long, winding, overly complex halls. Even with my bells, my steps were impossibly silent, soft as the tread of a delicate predator. Magic moved around me, breathed with me, and I was enfolded within it. The silence was powerful. I couldn't deny that it went straight to my head and had me hurrying before long.

I set my trap in the library, among the very same stacks that I had wandered before and had no doubt been spotted in. If I'd told Elias my plan, I was sure his head would have exploded at my stupidity. Using myself as bait—confirming that I was something of a nosy, threatening girl—was undoubtedly foolish, but I had to show that I would not be cowed. If I could force my stalker to drop the façade and confront me, this whole mess would end in a snap.

And so it was that I went about, pen in hand, scrawling my message everywhere I thought a weasel might look and anywhere that was plain. It was obvious. It was loud. I will not rest.

I was only partway done when the library doors hissed open and lantern light bled in across the shelves. Footsteps whispered through the silent room. My heart caught in my throat. I scrambled to the end of the shelving and crammed myself into a small nook between two corner bookcases. There I held my breath. I hadn't the time to fiddle with any magic; more than that, my prior enchantments had broken in my panic.

The light crept closer. The figure stalked the rows of books. Closer. Closer. Green robes inched by. I squeezed my fists until my nails dug deep into my palms.

It was the professor of the green track who had been at my exam, the very same Elias had spoken to. Ghostly, he drifted by, unaware of my presence. He stopped a few rows down, muttered to himself, slid a book off a shelf, and padded out the way he came. The room fell to darkness again, and the walls and I breathed in relief at his absence.

I didn't dare move for several more minutes, afraid he would return again for another book or maybe a second glance about the room. Nothing. When I was safe enough, I crawled—stiff and thoroughly spooked—from my hiding place of shame. It was well past time to leave.

And leave I did, with my bait in place. I retreated all the way home unbothered, giddy at the thought of what I had done. Soon, I would have my target, and I would be home free.

Only after I had climbed back up through my window, washed the ink from my arm, and flopped into bed did I notice something amiss. My spell had dropped, yet the sound of bells around me had lessened. I pushed up from the bed, half-jingling, and sought out my mirror. I removed one earring, and all was well, but as I turned to the other I realized with great horror that the bell was missing.

Then indeed did I feel the weight of my own carelessness. I told myself over and over that it meant nothing. It was likely in the street somewhere, or maybe the garden from when I had first jumped out the window. It couldn't be in the library or in the halls of the school—even if it was, what did that mean? All would be well.

But I did not sleep that long, dark, foolish night. I could only lie in agonizing wait for the morning.

I constructed an outline right before this chapter and then immediately threw about half of it out the window after finishing this. So that's nice.

Celestine the silly goose that you are...