until Monday,” I mutter.
“You can’t hide here forever.”
“Watch me.” I glance out our little window. Darkness fell an hour ago, the snow a slow drizzle. By now I can tell the difference between the dirty gray half-light that means it’s daytime, and the full, foreboding darkness of night.
Lights flicker in the distance. There’s a bonfire near the lake of sorrows that rages Friday and Saturday for the festival, and twinkly lights are strung through the evergreens and oaks. Through the frosty windowpane trickle sounds of celebration.
Of fun. Whatever the hell that is. I’ve literally forgotten.
Laughter draws my attention to the open door. A group of human girls pass in the hallway carrying streamers of green and gold—Summer Court colors. Usually on the weekends the campus and dorm clear out, but everyone is here for Samhain.
Mack lifts up on her tiptoes, a thing she does when she’s excited. “We’re going out tonight. You should come.”
“It’s not the bonfire, is it?” I ask warily. “Because the answer is a hard no.”
I’m not in the mood to be stared at and whispered about. Everyone knows about the Nocturus tomorrow, and I’m suddenly back in the spotlight.
“Ick, no.” Mack makes a face. “Only first years and dweebs go to school sanctioned functions.” I refrain from adding that we are first years. “All the cool students go to the Ice District in Everbrite. They usually only let fourth years shadows in . . . but Rhaegar told Basil we could come.”
“What’s the Ice District?” I ask as Evelyn flings open the closet door and starts rummaging around Mack’s clothes.
“The row of bars along Pixie Street in Everbrite? You’ve never heard of that?” Evelyn glances over her shoulder as I shake my head. “It’s famous . . . and basically the coolest place in Everwilde. The who’s who of Fae are spotted there all the time.”
“Why’s it called the Ice District?”
Mack finishes zipping herself into a skintight red dress that highlights her tawny complexion and hourglass figure. “The bars are all owned by the Winter King.”
“Count me out.” They try to change my mind, but I refuse to leave my bed. The idea of visiting a club owned by the Winter Prince’s family makes me physically ill.
“Suit yourself.” Mack leans down and tweaks my ear. “But, for Fae’s sake, get your head out of that book and do something. It’s Friday night. Walk the grounds. Watch a movie in the commons with the other first years. Make out with some nameless—but hot—fourth year boy toy. But you need to leave this room.”
I cringe. If Mack, the most studious girl in our academy, is telling me to get out and do something, I probably should.
But the only thing I want to do is find something, anything, that will help Rhaegar win me tomorrow for good.
Once they’re gone, I throw on my jeans and my old Dallas Cowboys hoodie.
I’m pretty sure when Mack suggested I get out and have fun, she didn’t mean going to the library. But that’s exactly what I plan to do as I summon poor Ruby and slip out the front door. The frigid wind assaults me the moment I shove open the heavy mahogany door.
With a yelp, Ruby dives into my hood.
“I think . . . I might be . . . sick,” she moans.
“Maybe next time don’t steal my candy and gorge yourself on it,” I scold.
She gives an aggrieved scoff. “You left it out. Right in front of me. What was I supposed to do?”
Rolling my eyes, I start down the path toward the main academy building. A deep, unsettling cold has taken hold of the campus grounds, and I shove my hands into my jeans. If the cold becomes too unbearable, I’ll slip into my gloves.
By the time I make it to the main campus, I’ve lost all feeling in my nose. It’s not much better inside. Like most weekends, the fires are low, the corridors dark and empty. A chilly draft permeates the halls.
“Ruby,” I say. When she doesn’t answer, I call louder. “Ruby!”
She jerks awake from where she curls, snoring, in my hood.
“Find the library.”
She drunkenly swirls around my head, her arms crossed over her chest and tiny face twisted in annoyance. “Hmph. Do I look like the Fae version of Alexa?”
“Please?” When she refuses to help me, I sigh and add, “In addition to my eternal gratitude, I’ll throw in a thimble-full of brambleberry wine.”
Her eyes brighten, and I know I’ve won.
My footsteps ring hollow against the