Ru was sprawled on the carpet, doodling mindless sketches of the artifact in the margins of a notebook. She glanced up, blinking. “Yes, if you’re making it.”
She turned back to her notebook. Lyr had brought Gwyneth and Archie to her room in the night, both wrapped in theirdressing gowns, eyes wide with confusion and obvious fear. Ru told them about Simon’s letter, explaining that she was in likely danger, though she wasn’t certain about the manner of the threat. The three had talked for hours, conjecturing about the palace, the regent’s involvement, and Simon’s new mysterious patron.
Their only conclusion so far was that Ru was safer at the Tower than anywhere else, despite Lord D’Luc’s presence.
“I thought he stopped demanding demonstrations out of fear,” Ru had said, around half past four in the morning. “But… maybe it has to do with whatever's going on at the palace. He's waiting for something.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Gwyneth added. Her usual cheerful demeanor had faded in place of tightness around the eyes, a faint line between her brows. Her blonde curls were in slight disarray, the ribbon holding them in place having slipped loose sometime in the night.
“Sounds as likely as anything,” Archie said. Like Gwyneth, he was a picture of exhaustion. “Perhaps a breakthrough here, before whatever plans he’s laid in the palace can come to fruition.”
“Or the other way around,” Ru said. She couldn’t help but imagine Lord D’Luc like a spider in its lair, legs curled in anticipation.
Suppressing a shiver, Ru reread the notes she’d made in her notebook. They were messy and read like the scribblings of a madwoman.
“The artifact responds to emotion,” Ru said slowly. “Strong emotion.”
“Yes, we know that,” said Archie, from where he was setting up the teakettle over the fire.
“Before the demonstrations, Lord D’Luc was asking me about… love,” Ru said.
“A bit too philosophical for my taste,” Archie said. “I thought he planned to use the artifact as a weapon. Now he wants to bring love into the mix?”
“I think he’s losing his mind a little,” Ru said. “Or, more likely, he wants me to lose mine.”
A sudden rap sounded on the door. Before any of them had a chance to respond, the door swung open.
“Ah, you’re awake,” said a strangely dull voice. “Come with me.”
It was Professor Obralle.
CHAPTER 5
Ru, Gwyneth, and Archie followed Professor Obralle through the corridors in stunned silence. The academics shot glances at one another as they went, the professor walking ahead of them, looking as healthy as ever. Even her hair was fluffy and pink, as always, and had been styled to look like a pumpkin on top of her head.
But something was wrong with her. The usually bright-eyed and talkative professor was subdued, her pace steadier than it had once been. Her eyes were glazed. And though Ru tried to think of reasons that might be — the professor had been sick, she would be tired, she would be recovering — Ru knew this had been no normal illness. And she recognized that horrible, emotionless gaze. She recognized the single-minded stride, the unsettling determination.
Ru and her friends had been too shocked to question and had simply followed the professor with sleep-deprived awe. But now that the sun had begun its ascent, now that breakfast smells wafted up from the mess hall, they began to murmur questions at one another, shrugging and making faces.
They passed one or two early-rising academics, whose wide-eyed gazes caught Professor Obralle and then Ru, Gwyneth, andArchie, all dressed in their sleeping clothes. Ru wondered what new rumors would spread from this strange procession, what new ire might spring up.
“Where are we going?” Gwyneth asked as the small group turned and began down a wooden staircase.
“You’re looking, uh… shockingly spry, Professor Obralle,” Archie added. “Are you feeling all right?”
The professor did nothing to indicate that she had heard them and continued on.
Ru remained quiet, puzzling it out. She was so distracted, she hadn’t noticed where they were going. Not until the dungeon door loomed large before her. That door led to a place heavy and shadowed inside her, to memories she wasn’t ready to face head-on.
“Wait,” Ru said, stopping in her tracks. Archie and Gwyneth nearly walked into her, skidding to a halt. Ru didn’t want to admit to her fear, so she said, “Where are the other professors?”
Obralle halted and turned, too slowly. Her eyes were like glassy orbs, as if sharply focused on something far away. “They are well.”
Archie, Gwyneth, and Ru all shared a long look. The voice that came from Obralle’s body was her own, but the tone lacked expression.
“But… you’ve all been sick,” Gwyneth said as if she could set things right by saying rational things.
Professor Obralle blinked. “Nonsense.” She turned to continue down the hall, but Ru and the others stood their ground. Obralle stopped and turned, gazing over her shoulder. “Come,” she said.
