Tarot Academy 4 - Sarah Piper Page 0,90

energy that chills the very blood.”

“Do you think they’ve got any connection to the so-called Soldiers of Light?” Doc asks.

“I have no idea, Cassius. We don’t even know whether the Soldiers exist or are merely a ploy by the true terrorists to further incriminate witches and mages. We don’t know whether Eastman and his men are involved with them or with the attacks at large. Everything about this is a mystery—one that grows darker and deeper with each passing day.”

“So that’s it?” Ani smirks at her, pacing beside the couch like some kind of criminal prosecutor about to roast the star defense witness. Nothing about his demeanor feels familiar to me. He’s almost a different person, his ordeal in the dream realm stealing more than just time.

Behind me, Kirin squeezes my shoulder, and Carly shifts closer to me on the sofa, as if they both can sense my unease.

If only Ani was as perceptive.

“That’s all you’ve got?” he presses. “A mystery that grows darker and deeper every day?” He barks out a harsh laugh, one so uncharacteristic, so unlike our light and happy Sun Arcana it makes my skin crawl. “Someone is burning cities to the ground, incinerating children, destroying cultural landmarks, and blaming it all on your fellow witches and mages, and that’s all you’ve got to say about it? You don’t know this, you don’t know that… Honestly, Headmistress. With such a profound lack of knowledge, it’s a wonder you achieved such an esteemed position at the Academy at all.”

“Do not presume, Mr. McCauley, that you know anything about my knowledge or experience, in this matter or any other. Classes may be on hold for the foreseeable future, but I am still your headmistress, and I demand your respect.” She takes another sip of her tea, her hands rock steady. But despite her cool demeanor, her energy has shifted, the ice fracturing just enough to reveal a hint of real emotion beneath.

Fear. Uncertainty. Regret.

Not a combination I’ve come to associate with the headmistress, that’s for sure.

But as much as Ani’s one-man, trial-by-fire circus act is giving me an ulcer the size of Arizona, he’s kind of right to question her.

If she doesn’t know anything, what the hell is she doing here?

“Headmistress Trello,” I finally say, “I appreciate you returning the books to me, but Ani has a point. If you don’t know anything, there’s nothing left to discuss. So if you don’t mind, I’d really like to get back to my evening.”

I mean, really. What did she expect? That she could just waltz in here after months of cold-shouldering me, wave around my stolen books, and I’d drop to the ground and kiss her feet?

I stand up from the sofa and collect her teacup and saucer, hoping she’ll take the hint and see herself out. But Trello just keeps glaring at me like I’m a petulant, ridiculous child.

“You’re wrong, Starla,” she says. “There is infinitely more to discuss. So much, in fact, that I’m having trouble knowing where to start.”

“How about your so-called undercover partnership with Professor Phaines?” Carly says. “The so-called agreement that went bad enough for you to murder him.”

Trello exchanges a quick glance with Casey, who nods for the older woman to continue.

“You owe them an explanation, Anna,” Casey says. “You owe me an explanation too.”

Anna sighs, then gestures for me to return to my spot on the sofa.

“Starla, this is going to be very difficult for you to hear,” she says. “And I know you have little reason to trust me. But I need you to sit back down, and I need you—above all else—to listen.”

I reach out for her energy, scouring it for any signs of treachery.

Again, I find the same mixture of fear and regret, this time topped off with a deep sorrow, an old loss from which she’s never recovered.

I look into her eyes, and for a brief moment, her walls come down, revealing a sad, broken woman carrying a lifetime of pain. Of grief. I can practically feel it rolling off her body in waves, a dark, familiar ache I’ve lived with ever since my parents left this plane.

Trello lowers her gaze, and the connection between us breaks.

But I know what I felt, and that shared pain—however brief—was enough to buy her a few more minutes of my attention.

I drop back onto the couch and gesture for her to continue, settling in between Carly and Isla, knowing—deep in my bones—that I’m going to need all the support they’re able to