Rory Blackwood's Arc

Chapter 4 of 13

Aphrodite's office smelled of beeswax and old paper. Rory sat in a hard chair. Kael stood by the window, hands in his pockets. Void curled on the rug, tail flicking. A man in all black waited by the door, built like a soldier, no braid on his coat, no name given. The Headmistress folded her hands on the desk. "You went where you were not invited," Aphrodite said. "Twice, if I count the cat." Her eyes moved to Rory. "You will attend every class. You will sleep in your bed. You will not wander." She tipped her chin at the man by the door. "He will make sure of it. Ten paces behind. Always." "For how long?" Rory asked. "Until I decide otherwise." Kael's jaw shifted. He said nothing. Aphrodite's gaze cut to him. "You will keep to your own corridor, Mr. Evenmoor. Am I clear." "Clear," Kael said. By noon the Watcher was a shadow at ten paces. Rory counted them in sigil theory. She counted them down the stair to herbalism. She counted them at lunch, where Luna slid into the seat across from her and mouthed, *he's still there?* Rory nodded. Void sat on the bench beside her and watched the man watch her. She needed Kael. She needed to know what her grandmother had written on that wall and why. Every time she got near him in the hall, the Watcher's boots kept pace. Kael passed her at the library door and didn't look up. He passed her at the fountain. He passed her again outside potions and his fingers brushed hers, quick, and something small and folded pressed into her palm. *East cloister. Third pillar. After bell.* At the bell she walked the cloister slow. The Watcher followed. She turned the corner at the third pillar. A hand caught her wrist and pulled her sideways into a gap between stone and stone. Shadow closed over them like a shut door. She heard the Watcher's boots stop, then move on, then stop again, confused. Kael's shoulder pressed against hers. There was no room to stand any other way. His breath moved her hair. "Say it fast," he whispered. "The word on the wall. Convergence. My grandmother wrote it. What is it?" His eyes were black, holding the shadow around them. "It's not a place. It's an event. When two lines of power meet in one witch. The old covens killed for it. Yours knew." "Am I it?" "She thought so. So does Aphrodite." Her hand was on his chest. She hadn't put it there. He didn't move it. For one breath the corridor was only him. Outside, the Watcher's boots came back. Closer. "Go," Kael said. "Left, not right." She slipped out. The Watcher's eyes found her at once. He said, "You lost me." His hand rested on the hilt at his belt. "That won't happen again."