Page 30 of Alchemy of Souls

I type into the thread.

Me:Not yet. Things are complicated over here.

Sage replies almost immediately.

Sage:So basically, everything went to plan on my end… and you’re a mess? What else is new?

I laugh.

Me:Mess? Never. I think the word you’re looking for is Perfect, capital P. Save your worrying for your sword arm.

Sage:My sword arm could skewer you to a tree.

Sage:Seriously, though, should I be worried?

Me:I’ll be in touch to meet up soon. Can’t get away just yet. Can you come to me?

Sage:Let me see what I can do and let me know when you’ll be at your house.

Me:I’m on it. Also, I’m leaving a bag for you.

I unzip my backpack and take out a sealed plastic bag of magical medicines. I tie it to the branch in the usual spot and then illusion it to look like a cluster of leaves.

Then I slip back through the wards and the woods, smiling as I reach Mrs. Kelly’s café—one of the few people in this town I go out of my way to see.

CHAPTER 18Eloise

As my eyes squint open against the early morning light, I catch sight of my still-packed duffel bag on the floor. My heart immediately clenches as I’m hit with a wave of homesickness.

Maggie—I need to find her.

I pull on my uniform so fast I half trip out the door while yanking up my boots, my hair flowing wildly around my face and down my back in waves.

But as I rush into the hallway, I run smack into Grayson’s chest.

He smiles as he catches my arm to steady me.

He’s wearing his charming smirk, something I’m coming to realize is his resting everybody-loves-me face. “Making an escape, Claws?” he asks nonchalantly.

“Claws?” I repeat, my eyebrows shooting up my forehead. “Did you just give me a nickname?”

He shrugs. “Your eyes are sort of like a lioness. And, well, I’m fairly certain you’d scratch me up if you could, soooo…”

“You’re not calling me that,” I say. “And for clarity, I most certainly can scratch you up.”

“Eloise is a nice enough name, don’t get me wrong,” he continues, “but it doesn’t really capture your feisty personality.”

And now my stomach is doing things that feel like betrayal. “Call me Claws and I’m calling you Casanova.”

A rumbling laugh bursts out of him. “You think I’m the world’s most charming man?”

Just then, the disembodied Gran voice echoes through the halls.All first-years to the dining hall if you plan to eat before training. If not, it’s on you.

I clear my throat. “We don’t have time for this.”

“Oh, I think we could spare a few minutes.”

He leans his shoulder against the wall, crossing one ankle over the other. Which is when I realize his boots are fully laced and his uniform is in order. In fact, he smells like coffee and buttery croissant. It suddenly occurs to me that’s why he’s being so friendly—this jackass is trying to distract me.