Page 70 of An Arcane Education
He nods. “Thank you again, Vivian. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I think we both have classes to get to.”
The clock on the wall indicates that there are ten minutes until eight, and my class is across campus in the castle. Shit.
“See you tomorrow.” I hold eye contact for a few seconds too long before I turn and rush across campus to make it to class on time, and the entire walk there, I can’t help but feel like I’ve just set something unstoppable in motion.
CHAPTER 29
On Tuesday, Alaric shows up to class with dark circles beneath his eyes, wrinkled clothing, and a lack of the usual sharp intimidation factor he usually has. He loses his train of thought mid-sentence multiple times before recovering, and he cancels our lab with the excuse of not feeling well. Thursday is the same, and he instructs us to write a research paper about environmental light quality and photosynthetic adaptation, providing us with the prompt and requirements before dismissing us ten minutes early.
AJ makes more than one joke under his breath about how “Dr. Vale must be getting some gnarly hangovers,” but I ignore him.
I’m consumed with worry about Alaric, as he’s grown more and more distant with each passing day this week. It’s clear he’s not sleeping, and I’m certain I know the reason why.
I don’t linger after class, instead using my time to form a plan and put it into action. It takes me an hour to getwhat I need, and I come to my tutoring session on Friday prepared.
But when I show up to Alaric’s office, he’s not there.
I check the greenhouse first, but the doors are locked and there’s no light emanating from inside the glass structure. Heading back into the building as a last-ditch effort, I make my way down the dark, empty stone hallways toward the science labs just past Alaric’s usual classroom, and sure enough, there’s one door with a sliver of light spilling beneath it onto the dark stone.
It’s locked, so I knock. When there’s only silence on the other side and no indication that the door’s going to open, I call out, “It’s Vivian.”
A few seconds later, the lock turns and the door opens a few inches. Alaric peeks out, his expression bordering on manic. There’s a coffee stain on his shirt and stubble on his cheeks.
“Are you alone?”
“Of course I am. I’m coming in,” I say, pushing past him.
He opens the door just enough to allow me to squeeze through before shutting and locking it again. The blinds are drawn, and all the tables are empty aside from one that holds a microscope, the mushroom jar (only one of which is inside), a notebook, and a microscope slide.
“What are you doing here?” he asks.
“It’s Friday. You’re supposed to be tutoring me.”
He sighs, closing his eyes for a couple seconds before looking directly at me for the first time since I’ve been here. “Shit. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, but you do need to take a break from this. Have you been sleeping at all?”
“A little.”
I glare at him, and he launches into a barely intelligible explanation about his research on the mushrooms, explaining how he used a spell to slow the decomposition rate substantially so he could study it longer, then rambling about the organization of hyphae, the spore ornamentation, and his running theory about magical energy potentially being distributed through the mycelium networks. Even despite my advanced mycology course, I can barely understand what he’s saying, partly due to the content and partly due to the sheer incoherence of his rapid-fire speech.
As grateful as I am that he’s sharing information with me after being so secretive, I’m more concerned by his current mental state than anything else.
“Put your stuff somewhere safe. I’m taking you out of here,” I tell him, leaving no room for argument.
He deflates, exhaustion marring his features. “Okay.”
I wait as he cleans and returns the microscope to its place and gathers up the rest of the items. We stop by his office so he can hide them in a locking cabinet, then he looks at me expectantly.
“I’ll be honest, I haven’t prepared anything for your tutoring tonight.”
“I know. Good thing I anticipated that. Put on your coat and follow me. Try not to be seen.”
He furrows his brows, but I don’t explain as I lead him out into the night and hug the walls of the buildings as we walk toward the library.
When we reach the small door tucked away near the back, Alaric stares at me. “Why are we at the library? It closes early on Fridays,” he adds, as if I can’t already tell that by the dark windows and the fact that we’re standing at a locked door.
“I have something specific in mind that I’d like to work on tonight, since I knew you wouldn’t be in the right mind for tutoring.”
