Becoming Magical [2]

C H A P T E R - 3 1

"Am i interrupting something?" Grady asked, peeking through her doorway.

Sophie scrambled to close her notebook as he made his way into her room. "Nope. Just . . . doing homework."

She'd actually been listing the pros and cons of all the Councillors, trying to figure out who was the best one to ask for help finding her journal. Something the Black Swan didn't want her to know was in there. Maybe it would tell her what they were really about.

Grady sat on the edge of her bed. "Edaline said things got a bit tense at Everglen today—or that was what Alvar told her."

Sophie looked away. "It's fine. I was expecting it."

She figured he was going to give her some long lecture on patience and forgiveness, but all he said was, "I'm sorry."

"Me too."

He tugged at the collar of his cape. "I really hate wearing these ridiculous clothes."

He unfastened the pin securing the two ends around his neck and let it slide off his shoulders to the floor. Then he undid the laces on his jerkin, and the top button of the collared shirt underneath. "We all have to do things that are unpleasant sometimes. Which is what I wanted to talk to you about." His eyes dropped to his hands. "Bronte's planning something very difficult for your session tomorrow. Something the Councillors and I . . . well . . . He says it's necessary. And there's a chance it won't even work, but I want you to take this with you tomorrow in case you need it." He handed her a small vial filled with a milky white liquid.

"Dex and Kesler made it just for you. They said this one was especially hard to do without the limbium, but they found a way. It won't be quite as effective, but it should help you clear away any darkness."

"Darkness?" Sophie could hear the tremble in her voice.

He didn't clarify. Just squeezed her shoulder and told her that Elwin was there for her if she needed him. Which only made her more nervous. What was Bronte going to do to her?

"Get some sleep," he told her as he grabbed his cape and left her alone in her room.

She stared at the tiny white bottle in her hands.

Yeah—like she was ever going to be able to sleep now.

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"Told ya you should've named this place the Foster Center," Keefe announced as Elwin handed Sophie a bottle of Youth to drink.

Master Leto had insisted on helping Sophie down the tower stairs—even though she'd told him she felt fine after she'd taken the elixir. He kept mumbling that she was far worse than she realized, and when he brought her to Sandor, he demanded that Sandor rush her to the Healing Center. Not that Sandor needed an order to freak out and become overprotective about her safety.

At least it got her out of lunch detention—though she'd have to make it up the next day.

And it gave her something else to think about besides Bronte's words, which were still swimming around in her head, making her queasy every time she tried to process them.

What was he going to tell the Council?

"I think I should start a pool to see who can guess how many times you'll end up here this year," Keefe said, leaning back in his bed. "I could make a fortune."

"Hey, you're a patient too," Sophie reminded him, pointing to his cloth-wrapped hand.

Keefe shrugged. "It was easier than ditching."