The Lupines
Vastly heartened, I catch up with Aislinn in the White Hall after History.
“Fallon’s in my Metallurgie class. And Yvan Guriel’s in Math,” I breathlessly say to her then relate all that’s happened, desperately relieved to be back with my newfound friend. Scholars pass every which way around us on the way to their next classes, sunlight streaming from the dome overhead.
I tell her about Fallon’s ice.
Aislinn knits her brow in concern, hugging her books tight, a heavy bag slung over her shoulder. It seems like my archivist friend is always lugging around a small library, enough books to weigh down a sturdy mule.
“You need to stay away from Lukas Grey,” she cautions once again.
“Well, that’s rather difficult,” I counter, “seeing as how Aunt Vyvian has made it her life goal to see us fasted.”
Aislinn shakes her head. “Elloren, Fallon’s really not to be trifled with.”
“She froze my ink,” I blurt with outrage. As if that’s reason alone to defy her to the wall.
“That’s not all she’ll freeze if you don’t stay away from Lukas,” Aislinn warns with deep concern.
I blink at her. How do I explain to this friend of mine who abhors kissing what it’s like to kiss Lukas Grey? And that’s not the point, really. Why does Fallon get to bully everyone in sight?
“I’m from just as powerful a family as she is,” I grouse. “More powerful.”
“Not anymore,” Aislinn reasons, sighing as if I’m a child who just won’t listen and keeps putting her hand in the stove fire. “And she might be the next...”
“Black Witch, yes, I know.” I cut her off petulantly, frustrated by my damnable lack of magic. I take a deep breath and look back at Aislinn. “My Metallurgie teacher’s a Snake Elf.”
Aislinn’s eyebrows go up. “How can that possibly be?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know, but I’ll be studying with him directly.” The Snake Elf’s bizarre appearance reverberates in my mind. “He’s covered in green scales. They look like jewels.”
“I’d transfer immediately,” Aislinn states emphatically. “The Alfsigr Elves keep the Snake Elves locked underground for good reason.” She gives me a significant look.
“Well, I can’t transfer,” I grumble. “There’s no room in my schedule to move. So I’m stuck with a potentially demonic Snake Elf as a professor, and Fallon Bane torturing me through every class.”
Aislinn gives me an appropriately pitying look, which makes me feel a tad better.
“How’s History?” she finally asks.
“Fantastic,” I tell her, fishing a small, napkin-wrapped bundle out of my pocket. “There’s an overabundance of cookies. It’s the one bright spot in my life right now. That, and new friends.” I smile gratefully and hand her an oatmeal cookie.
Aislinn laughs and gives me a sweet smile before taking a dainty bite out of the cookie. “C’mon,” she says, hoisting her bag, “we’ll be late for class.”
* * *
I follow Aislinn back toward the Scientifica Wing, keeping a close eye out for Fallon as we go down through a series of lamp-lit underground tunnels, up a staircase and through a long, arching hallway toward the Chemistrie Guildhall.
Outside our laboratory classroom, groupings of scholars linger—mostly Gardnerians, with a smattering of Kelts and Verpacians, but no Fallon Bane anywhere.
I breathe a deep sigh of relief.
Some scholars sit on stone hallway benches, some stand in tight clusters. All of them appear agitated, their hushed conversations full of distress. They look to me with some surprise, but my presence is clearly overshadowed by some dark happening.
A conservatively dressed Gardnerian girl passes by, clearly upset.
“What’s happened, Sarill?” Aislinn asks, confused. “Where are you going?”
The girl pauses, her eyes lighting briefly with recognition at the sight of me. She attempts a wavering smile, then turns back to Aislinn. “The male Lupine,” she says with a flustered wave toward the laboratory entrance. “He’s in there.”
Aislinn blanches. “He can’t be.”
“Oh, he’s in there, all right,” she insists darkly. “And I’m leaving. You should too, Aislinn.” She looks to me. “Both of you should.”
The girl rushes away, and she isn’t alone. Groups of Gardnerians and a few Kelts, most of them female, began to peel off and make their escape from the science hall.
I peer through the laboratory’s open door.
They’re both there. The blond Lupine twins. Talking to Professor Astrid Volya, the tall, tattooed Amaz professor with the pointed ears. Actually, the female Lupine is doing all the talking, her hand haughtily placed on one hip. The young Lupine male stands by, watching the two of them with his wild eyes.
I turn back toward Aislinn. She looks like she’s about to cry.
“Aislinn?”
“This can’t be happening.” She stares at the Lupines, her eyes glassing over. “It just can’t be happening. I have to take this class. I can’t finish my archivist studies without it.” She turns to me, her voice gone small and dazed. “I can’t take a class with a Lupine male, Elloren. Father’d never allow it. He’ll make me leave University.” Her eyes dart around as if searching for a way out. “I can’t leave before year’s end. They’ll make me fast to Randall. I have to finish my studies before I fast to Randall. If I don’t...he’ll never let me come back.” Her lip starts to tremble as she tries to swallow back the tears.
I place a hand on her arm, concerned for her. “Oh, Aislinn...”
Her hand shaky, she fishes a handkerchief from her pocket and dabs at her eyes. “I’m the only female in my family to have ever attended University, Elloren.”
“I don’t understand why you need Chemistrie to become an archivist,” I say, defensive on her behalf. Archivist studies is all literature. Books and more books.
Aislinn sniffs back her tears. “Book preservation. Chemistrie’s required. It’s useful for us...” She trails off, gazing sadly at the classroom. “Well, at least...it would have been.” She turns back to me, her expression full of open longing. “I love books, Elloren. I love them. Sometimes I wish...” Her voice trails off, and her face darkens as if she’s admitting to something scandalous. “I wish I didn’t have to get fasted.”
I’m shocked by her admission. But then I grow sad for her, and this serious dilemma she’s in.
“What would you do,” I ask her gently, “if you didn’t have to?”
A spark flares in her eyes. “I’d work in the University archives. I’d curate the old books collection. Oh, Elloren,” she says, a hungry passion in her voice, “the Alfsigr archives are having an exhibit of the Rilynnitryn botany series. It’s the most amazing work on botany on all of Erthia. The Elves have this painting technique...it allows them to capture light in a three-dimensional way. You have to see it.” Aislinn makes a gesture with her hand, like a flower blooming. “It’s like you can pick the flowers off the page. They’re that real. They just...leap off the page.” She stops herself. “Oh, Ancient One,” she says, chastened, “don’t tell anyone you heard me talking like this.”
“Why?” I question, confused.
She stares at me as if it should be obvious. “Because Elves are heathens, of course. It sounds as if I’m...glorifying their culture.” She gives me a wan smile. “At least, that’s what Father would say.”
I’m thrown by the strict rules her family holds her to. Uncle Edwin has never been so narrow-minded with my brothers and me.
“Aislinn, I’m sure we’ll be fine if we go in. Professor Volya looks scarier than they do. And the male Lupine, when Fallon set her magic on me...he was so kind.”
“You shouldn’t let your guard down because of that,” Aislinn counters, unmoved. “They’re viciously strong. The male alone could take down the entire class. Easily.”
She’s right. Lupines are supposed to be incredibly strong. And immune to wand magic.
Aislinn peers over at the Lupines through narrowed eyes. “Did you know that Echo and Fallon are being forced to lodge with the female?”
“You’re kidding.”
Aislinn shakes her head. “Paige, too. Echo told me about her. She said...” Aislinn pauses. She looks toward the Lupines uncomfortably, her cheeks flushing.
“What? What did she say?”
Aislinn leans in, her brow tight. “She told me,” she says, her voice low, “that the female walks around...naked.”
My mouth falls open. “Completely?”
She nods. “They’re wild, Elloren. Like animals. And the males are immoral and dangerous. I don’t know what to do.”
I take a deep breath, considering this. “Well, I don’t have a choice. There’s no room in my schedule to take a different section. Not with my kitchen labor. I have to take this class, Lupines or not.” I glance over at the laboratory entrance, sure that the Lupines can’t be anywhere near as bad as my Icaral lodging mates.
The remaining scholars are filtering in. I turn back to Aislinn. “I think we should just sneak in and take a seat near the back. I doubt the Lupines will even notice us.”
Aislinn casts a sidelong glance toward the twins, deliberating.
“My father’s away for a few months,” she says, staring over at the wolf-shifters as if calculating the risks. “By the time he gets back, the class will be over.” She turns back toward me with shaky resolve and wipes the tears from her eyes. “All right, Elloren. Let’s go in.”
* * *
We creep in as unobtrusively as we can, sliding past Professor Volya and the Lupines, making our way toward the back of the room. We’re soon approached by a young Elfhollen apprentice, the Chemistrie Guild crest hanging from his neck.
“Names?” he asks with cold formality, his pen poised over a class list. We quietly tell him who we are. He checks us off and moves on, blessedly ignoring my pedigree.
There are a series of distillations on the long tables behind us, the sound of their steady bubbling soothing to the ear, and I find myself instantly fascinated by the equipment. The end product, an oily yellow liquid, is giving off a sour smell that’s mildly sulfurous. A set of arching windows on the opposite wall are partially blocked by rows of shelves. They’re stocked with vials and bottles filled with substances in every state. Lab tables are set about the room, covered with a kaleidoscope of glassware and burners, the metallic tang of Bornial flint on the chemical-laden air.
By now, most of the scholars are silently standing along the walls, their eyes fixed on the exotic Lupines. The Elfhollen lab assistant walks around the room, quietly directing people to their seats, two to a table.
“This is completely unacceptable,” the Lupine female is saying to Professor Volya, her voice all haughty arrogance. “Why can I not partner with my brother?”
Professor Volya is staring daggers at her with coal-black eyes, and I’m sure that look would make most people back down. She’s very intimidating—almost a head taller than the Lupines and of a solid, strong build. Her numerous piercings and heavily rune-marked face only add to the effect.
“Diana,” she says through gritted teeth, “you and your brother will not become integrated here if you only speak with each other.”
Diana places one hand on her hip, swings her lustrous blond hair over her shoulder and lifts her chin. “What if he’s the only person here worth speaking to?”
Professor Volya pulls herself up to her full height and looms over Diana.
“Miss Ulrich, this is my class, and I will run it as I see fit.” She grabs the papers from her Elfhollen assistant and scans them, her mouth a tight, unforgiving line. “Well,” she announces, “our numbers are reduced, which will allow us to move at a faster pace.” She glares over at the Lupines. “Diana Ulrich,” she says in a deep tone that brooks no argument. “Your research partner will be Mage Elloren Gardner, and Jarod Ulrich, you will partner with Mage Aislinn Greer.”
Aislinn’s eyes go wide, her obvious terror dwarfing my own shock. She opens her mouth to say something, but seems unable to speak. Instead, she stands stone-still, her mouth agape as the Elfhollen points toward a pair of adjacent tables in the back row.
Jarod Ulrich is watching Aislinn very closely with fierce eyes, his expression unreadable, and I think I see his nostrils flare. I feel alarmed, but at the same time, I remember how kind he was—how he helped me up when Fallon tripped me.
I walk back to my assigned table, sympathetic stares following me as I go. Diana plops down on the stool next to me with an annoyed huff, like someone forced to entertain fools. I watch Aislinn as Jarod takes his seat next to her. She’s gone rigid with tension.
Professor Volya opens a large text and begins to read from it.
Watching him out of the corner of my eye, I see Jarod glance over at Aislinn every now and then, his brow slightly furrowed. Aislinn continues to focus straight ahead, her hands clasped so tight her knuckles are white.
Partnered with a Lupine male. This isn’t good.
I turn to my own partner. She’s glaring at Professor Volya, her face tight with irritation.
She’s arrogant, this girl. But her brother was kind to me. Maybe these Lupines aren’t as bad as they’re made out to be. It’s not ideal to be forced together like this, but perhaps it makes sense to make the best of things and try to get along.
“I’m Elloren Gardner,” I whisper to Diana, holding out a hand for her to shake, eager to get the awkward introductions out of the way.
She turns to me, seeming affronted, then glances down at my outstretched hand quizzically, as if she doesn’t quite know what to do with it. She flicks her hair proudly over one shoulder and stands up to face me, her chair screeching loudly along the floor as she does so. She clears her throat ceremoniously. “I am Diana Ulrich of the Gerwulf Pack,” she announces quite loudly. “Daughter of the Alpha, Gunther Ulrich, and his wife, the healer Daciana Ulrich, sister of Jarod Ulrich and Kendra Ulrich, paternal granddaughter of...”
Professor Volya stops lecturing, one long black eyebrow cocked with surprise. I want to crawl under the table. Diana Ulrich goes on and on through three generations, like a queen reciting her noble lineage, until her brother interrupts her, his voice low.
“Diana.”
She turns to look at him, annoyed at the interruption. “What?”
“They don’t do that here.”
“Do what?”
“Establish ancestry as a greeting.”
She blinks at him. “Why ever not?” she finally says, clearly appalled.
“It’s just not their custom.”
She folds her arms in front of her chest and huffs at him.
“Besides,” he whispers, gesturing to the front of the room where Professor Volya stands menacingly still as if she’s contemplating the most expeditious way to murder Diana. “We should probably pay attention now.”
“Why?” Diana asks like a spoiled child.
“Because,” he says, raising his eyebrows at her meaningfully, “lecture has started.”
Diana frowns at Professor Volya and then at everyone else before finally plopping back down into her seat next to me. Professor Volya shoots her one more stern look before focusing in on the rest of us and resuming her lecture on distillation techniques.
I’m surprised when Diana turns to me and starts whispering. “I have already read this book,” she complains stridently. “I do not need to listen to her rehash it. It is a waste of my time!”
I don’t know what to say. Besides, it’s so hard to resist staring at her flashing amber eyes. The color is mesmerizing.
“The forest is beautiful today, is it not?” she says wistfully, looking toward the line of windows and the orange-and-gold-tipped trees beyond. She sighs longingly. “I love how the trees smell this time of year. And the dried leaves, so sweet. I wish I could be out there now. Such a day for hunting. Do you hunt, Elloren Gardner?”
“No,” I reply, still trying to get my mind around the fact that I have a wolf-shifter for a research partner. “But my older brother, Rafe, does.”
“Does he?” she asks, seeming curious.
“He’s an excellent archer,” I whisper. “Do you have a bow?”
Diana laughs at this, a little too loud, causing Professor Volya to shoot her a quick, irritated look. “I don’t need a bow,” she says, grinning incredulously.
“What do you hunt with, then?” I ask.
She fixes her wild amber eyes on me. “My teeth.” She smiles widely, displaying her long, white, glistening canines. The hairs on the back of my neck go up in alarm.
“Oh,” I say, swallowing nervously. “You mean when you turn into a wolf?”
“Not necessarily,” she says, still smiling dangerously.
Holy Ancient One in the Heavens above.
I gulp and turned back to face the front of the room.